((Asuka continued from Mystic River
The finale was over in an instant. Asuka watched numbly as Scout walked forward, flipped Alvaro over, watched as one died and the other became a killer and then the other girl dissolved into tears.
So this is how it feels like to be mentally traumatized.
She had to do something, had to make sure this memory was burned into her head for the rest of her life. Asuka shuffled forward, then half-ran half-stumbled in before her instincts could pull a dirty trick and make her run away. Scout and the other girl were talking and voices were being raised and it was making Asuka want to leave--wasn't that funny?--but her legs were doing their job, taking her closer even as the rest of her body and mind screamed for her to stop. Was it all a misunderstanding? Did Scout kill Alvaro at the worst time, right as the girl was about to talk him down, ending his story as a tragedy right before he could redeem himself? Oh, why had she agreed to this, who was she to decide that telling her story was worth the end of his, fuck you Scout for doing this and fuck you Asuka for not trying to do something to stop her.
The other girl said something that sounded like an apology. That meant everything was okay, right?
Of fucking course not. Don't you dare try to slip out of this one, don't you dare even try to convince yourself that you're blameless here because even if you are why the hell is that your concern right now.
She awkwardly reached out a trembling hand to pat the girl's head, mumbled something like ssh it's okay it's not your fault and it all sounded so dumb and phony but that's why physical contact was a thing, right? Maybe human touch couldn't actually make up for anything that words couldn't say, but it'd tell the girl that something was missing, that she'd meant to tell her something that hadn't been delivered. Because Asuka meant it. Really. She tried to make eye contact with Scout, tried to glare at her, but Asuka had never been able to do that kind of thing and her eyes slid off of Scout's face and onto
That did the trick, the sight of exposed meat dripping out of Alvaro searing itself into her brain forever, and she could look at Alvaro and she could look at the bullet holes in him but now she was taking in both and she felt her stomach clench, the bile rising in her throat, and she was telling herself--not on the corpse not on the corpse not on Alvaro oh god she has to step back she has to unfreeze her legs and uproot her feet and, oh, she felt bad for thinking of it as just a corpse, like he was nothing more than a sack of decomposing meat. Of course it was, even if he wasn't--and that wasn't a him anymore--but it was still imbued with the idea of Alvaro, with the idea of a real person and all the baggage that entails, and that was still something worth respecting because if she didn't then it'd be all too easy to feel less than she already did, because if she stopped reminding herself that that corpse was a person--even if it wasn't--then she would stop thinking of the person it used to be as a person and she knows exactly where that road leads. So no, she couldn't vomit on Scout or Audrey and definitely not on Alvaro, so she took a couple steps back and now the world's spinning around her, she wobbles, falls, ass landing in the pool of blood and she feels her head pitching forward, fucking god why
Her body shook, spasmed, and she gasped for air as she dry-heaved.