What. Early WUIG? Indeed, indeed it is.

---

Your knees threaten to give out beneath you and wobble as you try to bring yourself through the haze of pain to the bathroom. Your entire body is wracked with similar shudders as you try to focus your pain-clouded vision at the exit. The bathroom. Medical supplies. Something to alleviate the pain. Anything to stop the pain. The only thing at the forefront of your mind, beyond the confusion at how this ended in such bloody violence, at Mokou's overreaction, and at why part of your abdomen now looks like it was burnt on a backyard grill. Your head is swimming, and you can barely feel your feet shuffling along the spotless wooden floor, making an irregular noise compared to normal footsteps as you stumble haltingly. Distantly, you realize your hands are gripping at the walls and you're leaning against it for support. The pain doesn't get any better as a pallid, sweaty, hand of yours grips at the door, attempting to open it haltingly. Your right hand. The one that gripped the knife as you dug it into Mokou. A slight layer of reddish brown is under the fingernails where her blood managed to get under them.

You killed her.

You killed her.

You killed her.

The thought echoes in your head as you scrunch your eyes closed, and can't help but cough, leaning over into the room before opening your eyes. The image of her doesn't go away in your mind as you desperately look for what might pass for a medicine cabinet- There. There. There it is. Your goal in sight, you pry yourself from your support, currently the door, and practically fling yourself at a relatively large cabinet, and with a fervor born of need and panic, you throw it open, your eyes scanning the contents. You can't read a thing. You can't read a thing. Your vision is so blurry. You see something that might contain a salve... Glancing over, you also see tub. With plumbing. Rudimentary. But cold. Cold water. If burned, you should submerse yourself in cold water, shouldn't you? Deciding quickly, your left hand snakes out to grab the ointment, although you're not sure if it's for burns or not. It looks to be the best option, however, and shakily lower yourself into the tub and turn the faucet. Your uncontrollably spasmodic hand can't help but grip tightly as you feel the sensation of cold metal, still chilly water, and move your other hand to cup some of the water and throw it onto the burn. The contact is both soothing and even more agonizing. Urgently, you try to displace more of the water onto the afflicted area, and slowly you lose track of time, just trying to abate the pain for now. For a while, the ointment sits on the edge of the small tub, your disconnected mind not even thinking of it for a while as you preoccupy yourself with the water.

After a while, it feels less painful. You think. Or, maybe you've just gotten used to it. Your pants and remnants of your shirt are soaked. You vaguely realize you remembered to take off your shoes and socks at some point, so they aren't drenched like the rest of you currently is. Your eyes drift slowly, as though cobwebs blocked them to the jar at your side.
Nobody has come.
You haven't heard anyone.
Why isn't there anyone?
You don't know.
You don't know?
You are a murderer.
You killed someone.
It was in self defense.
They'll come back.
But you killed someone.
Groaning, you can't even put a hand to your head and just shake it drowsily. Ugh. The more rational part of your mind easily defends you. You were merely defending yourself. Mokou attacked you, and was obviously bent on lethal intent herself. You had no other choice. Had you attempted to debilitate her in any other way, it would be YOUR corpse on the kitchen floor at this very moment... But it still doesn't change the fact there IS a corpse on the kitchen floor. Why is there? And why didn't she sound upset? There is nobody to answer your questions. You break yourself from your reverie. This has been your loop of thoughts for the past... How long? You don't know. There are no windows in here. Just unlit incense, and the open door allowing light in. It is a small, well cleaned bathroom, simple as that. A minor thing that catches your eye is a small, decorative blue and green patterned vase filled with flowers. Beautiful, white flowers. Keine. You think of her. Cirno. You think of her. Where are they? Why did they leave? Suddenly, you realize you have a choice.
You can wait here. Try to get better on your own. You can make it. Become stronger. You have to learn not to rely on them.
Or, you can look for Keine or Cirno, and hope they can help you. You might not deserve it, but you still want to live.


[ ] No. I have to make it through this on my own.

[ ] Keine. She has to forgive me. She has to help.

[ ] ... The nineball. She's a fairy of ice. She'll trust me. At least I think so. She knows people, and can't have gone too far. They might be able to help.