pretty little deaths

DISCLAIMER: Iiiii don't own the ~no naku koro ni series, I just wish Gainax would hurry it up with Rei. This drabble is mine, though. AAAAAAGH WHAT AM I DOING, I'M SUPPOSED TO BE DOING THE OTHER TWO MION DRABBLES, NOT WRITING EMO!RIKA. GAAAH.

The first time was a whirl of panic and terror, being roused from a sound sleep by Hanyuu screaming for her to run, Rika, run and not knowing why, stumbling down the stairs and right into the arms of the men who'd come looking for her. The stairs had been painful against her chest and belly, the edge of one step digging into her forehead while her hands and legs were bound. They'd flipped her over, covered her face with a wet cloth, and she'd smelled something horribly sweet and that was it.

And then she was waking up as if it were a bad dream, but Hanyuu was there and told her that it hadn't been. That Hanyuu had used her power to wind time back a bit, try to change things—that was all.

The next time was when she noticed something was strange. It was Keiichi then, withdrawing and looking at Rena and Mion with fear—showing the signs, she realized too late, of a high level of Hinamizawa Syndrome. And then Rena and Mion were dead and while Rika was still wondering what did I do wrong, how did this future turn out so messed up, the men came for her again.

After a few more worlds, a little more understanding, she tried to come up with plans. She could escape from the window, she could use some of Satoko's leftover traps, she could run and run and run and hide somewhere safe, somewhere these people who wanted to hurt Hinamizawa wouldn't find her.

She tried the ritual tool shed, and it was no good. She tried empty buildings. She tried to run through the mountains on little-girl legs, in sandal-shod feet, to the Sonozaki estate. The nightmare men who chased her were faster, always faster. Their steps were always longer and larger and no matter what head start she had, they always caught up to her.

And while she tried to change things for Keiichi and Rena and Mion and Shion and Satoko and Akasaka but never – quite – made it, she tried to save herself. Over – and – over – and – over. A sickening spinning loop, a ride she couldn't deplane from.

Just keep trying, just keep waiting, Hanyuu always begged, until Rika was old enough to be furious with her for it. Hanyuu didn't, couldn't possibly understand how terrifying it was.

Because when her time was up again, she wasn't Frederica Bernkastel or Furude House Priestess anymore, she was just Furude Rika, and all she could do was run – and – run – and – run, a little girl trapped by little girl fear and not a woman trapped in a little girl body.

Her lungs burning, her feet aching, her skirts slowing her down, Hanyuu crying, the sickly smell and taste of chloroform. Over and over and over, pretty paper links in a chain that weighed her down until she was sure she was never going to escape.

An endless string of neat little failures.