𝑸𝑶𝑻𝑪:

𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝒐𝒇 𝒔𝒆𝒆𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒐𝒏𝒆𝒔𝒆𝒍𝒇 𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏 𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒐 𝒔𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒅𝒆𝒔𝒑𝒊𝒔𝒆 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕, 𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒗𝒆𝒔 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒆𝒎𝒑𝒕𝒚. 𝑩𝒓𝒐𝒌𝒆𝒏 𝒕𝒐 𝒂𝒏 𝒆𝒙𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒂𝒏𝒚 𝒂𝒎𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 𝒐𝒇 𝒓𝒆𝒈𝒆𝒏𝒆𝒓𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒗𝒆 𝒑𝒐𝒘𝒆𝒓𝒔 𝒄𝒂𝒏'𝒕 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒍 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒋𝒐𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒑𝒊𝒆𝒄𝒆𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒔𝒐𝒖𝒍.

***

Asami gradually opened her eyes. Another night of struggle for death got swept away under the shadows of morning light. The blue walls of her room, with different beautiful illustrations, painted with the finest details, loomed behind brushes of black-red blood. The white and blue fur on the rug covering the wooden furnished floor hardened and stained red with dried blood. Her entire room looked a shade of blue and white, just like the vast sky or the deepest oceans. Perhaps she wanted to fly or swim. Either way, it seemed like she wanted to be free. Free from what? Only she knew it; deep inside her heart was that secret locked up. That was not a dream she had, but a duty, a responsibility she had to fulfil, a responsibility to gain freedom.

Sitting upright, she took a deep breath. A putrid smell filled her lungs. Her room stunk of blood. A week of continuous self-harming, tormenting was over and still, she was not dead. She had tried almost everything; cutting open her stomach, slitting her neck, stabbing her intestines until they turned into grated pieces of flesh, but she didn't die. Regeneration was all it took, mostly in an instant, but sometimes, it took time to get back into a normal state. An intense pain broke her soul, but that was a sign that she had reached a step closer to her death. Probably, she must have hit a weak spot. But what was it, and where was it? That she didn't know. So, she lost it every time, giving result to a burning pain and extreme loss of blood.

Although she was alive, she was not okay. Constant blood loss and starving made her look like a zombie. Dizziness took over her, and her vision blurred. Black swollen eye bags outlines her blue orbs. Two sharp cheekbones bulged out of her sucked-in cheeks. In the last seven days, the silver-head experienced a suffering she never thought she would. Not the physical one, the one that hit her mind and soul. It was excruciating. The pain of seeing oneself turn into something you despise with all your heart, leaves you nothing but empty. Broken to an extent that any amount of regenerative powers can't heal and join the pieces of your soul. The hole she made in the stomach filled itself in a second, but the hole in her heart got wider. The more she realised her true identity, the wider it got.

Her father knocked on her door once or twice, every day. He left her food, which she barely ate. But he never asked her the reason of her being caged inside her room and skipping school. Why would he, when he knew he won't get an answer? All he would get is an insecure glare of eyes gazing away yet still peering into his heart with hatred, which grew even more hateful since that day, as much oblivious he was as he could be to the reason behind that. He felt powerless whenever he saw that gaze. But, he still believed in his daughter, that one day, even if she hated her father so much, she would grow to be a fine lady. His belief was the only thing keeping him alive and dreaming; a dream to see his daughter rising above him.

Asami found a water bottle her father had left last night in front of her door. Taking large sips of water in one go, she felt a little strength returning to her. She looked around. It was 05:27 a.m.; she had time to clean up this entire mess. Finally, she knew no matter what, being dead was impossible for her, at least, the way she was doing it. She thought about eating poison, an idea worth trying. But what if she still doesn't die? Will she have to wait for old age to die? A life with no dangers to oneself could have been more enjoyable if not for this situation.

Asami dragged her feet to the tiled bathroom. After all the consequent proceedings of self harm, she wanted to see how she looked, but she had shattered the mirror in her bathroom. She pushed up the lid of the silver tap on her white, marble basin, as water gushed into her palms, stuck together side by side. Water hit her face, little rivulets trickling down her white skin. She wiped her face, rubbing her gentle palms over her cheeks and forehead. But no matter what, she could not erase her identity. Only if, she could disappear.

She washed off the blood on her walls; along with the blood-stained rug and left it in her bathroom. Her clothes, her bed, her hair, she erased every evidence of what was going on. And then, she dressed up in her uniform, a white blouse with white buttons, a red neck bow tie, with black check markings on it, a similar patterned skirt that reached down to the middle of her thighs. The white skin of thick legs was in contrast with her black stockings, covering up to her skirt. She untangled her wet, white hair, as the water drops ran down the comb and dropped on her wooden floor. She saw herself in her dressing mirror. She was weak, very weak, but she was still beautiful. The blue veins running beneath her white, translucent skin, one of the gem-like blue eyes shining under the cover of her thick white eyelashes, the other covered in a heavy mass of her asymmetrical white hair. Her pink lips, dried because of constant dehydration, like dried rose petal. Indeed, she was like a goddess.

At long last, she appeared in the world outside her room, not even a glimpse of which she had caught in the last week. She walked towards the dining hall. Even with only the two of them living, along with a few servants, the house was enormous.

The dining room was dimly lit by sunlight piercing through the gaps between the curtains. Asami gently drew the curtains aside, allowing the flood of sunlight to illuminate the room. A 2×3 metre wooden dining table rested in the centre, with 6 rarely used wooden chairs around it.

A maid, the cook, entered and started laying breakfast.

"You're up early, lady Asami. Good morning."

𝘑𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘪𝘴 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨.

 She couldn't say it loud. She went along with her and wished her a fake good morning.

"Will you wait for Master Hiroichi, or would you like to eat right now?" the maid said, as she finally finished laying the breakfast on the table.

"I will wait, Misa."

The maid, Misa, nodded and left the room. Asami looked out of the window. It was bright. She closed her eyes in reflex to the light.

Hiroichi hurried to the dining room and gasped when he saw his daughter. The shock of finally seeing his daughter's face after more than a week, moreover, in the condition she was in drained any traces of colour from his face. The once blooming flower, whose beauty was unmatched, now dried, as if it would crumble once touched.

Hiroichi collected himself and faced away.

"G-Good morning, Asami."

In an instant, she replied.

"Good morning, Father." Her voice was gentle again. Hiroichi remembered the night he saw her, shouting her lungs out.

Asami started taking out the sandwiches, laid it on her father's plate and poured him some juice.

Having studied in France, her father got well adapted to their culture and etiquette, while not losing his Japanese essence.

She sat opposite to him and quietly munched on her sandwich. Normally, speaking while eating was not allowed, but today it was necessary.

"If you don't mind me asking, I mean, I do not force you to tell me, but why were you locked up for so long? Is something troubling you?" His fatherly feelings gave in, pushing through his strong armour of a strict leader.

Asami, without saying a word, drank her juice in one go, and poured herself more. Heavy breakfast is a must for healthy living, but today, she really was hungry.

After quite a few moments of silence, she spoke up.

"I am fine. I shall take my leave."

Her father sat disappointed, not growing accustomed to the recent change in his daughter. He knew she hated him, but she usually talked to him normally, at least like a stranger. He also knew something was troubling her but as if he could ask. All he did was a slight nod of going with the flow.

***

A servant drove her to the school in her father's car.

She wondered about her powers as she didn't know much about these POWANs. All they taught her until then, was physical strength and leadership skills, with a brief hint about the key topic. But, if she couldn't get rid of her powers by herself, then she has to find some way to do it. They must have a weakness. If yes, then what was it? Was it vulnerable enough to cause death? The only way to find it was by studying them. But, books and documents on POWANs and everything related to them was confidential information and was not available in your local public or school libraries, or even on internet, if you don't want to learn stupid rumours.

The only place where a suitable amount of such information should be available, could be the P.E.D. headquarters or her father's study, or so she was told.

But her father kept his study locked with a key he carried with him all the time.

She reached the school and got off her car, with just one thought reverberating in her mind.

𝘐 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘬 𝘪𝘯 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘩𝘰𝘸. 𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘵'𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘸𝘢𝘺.