At the other end of that gigantic basement, a battle on a completely different level from Mochi's was unfolding. Kotone propelled herself into the air just in time; the ground where she had been standing a moment ago was crushed with brutal force, leaving the imprint of a gigantic hand engraved into the concrete.
That clash had dragged on much longer than Kotone ever imagined. Not only had she been unable to find the slightest opening to penetrate the enemy's defense, but the anomaly was adapting to her style at an alarming rate. Every technique and onslaught Kotone deployed seemed to serve only to teach her opponent how to decipher her movements and defeat her.
Barely had her feet touched the floor again when she was forced to make a second evasive leap to the side to dodge a new assault directed at her, feeling frustration begin to erode her composure.
"It seems that girl finally finished her fight... If I hold on a little longer, with her help I'll be able to defeat this anomaly," Kotone thought in a flash of desperation. However, she immediately shook her head to drive such a thought away: "No! How can I be considering asking for her help? I don't need her at all! I can finish this on my own, I just need to pour out all my power." But putting it into practice was not so easy. Looking down at the hand holding her giant brush, she noticed it was visibly trembling. She had to grip it with her other hand, squeezing with all her strength to suppress the tremor in her fingers.
"Enough!" she scolded herself in a broken whisper. "That won't happen again... I'm different now."
"What are you doing, shorty?!" a shrill shout suddenly rang out.
"Huh?" Kotone exclaimed, disoriented.
It was not until she heard Mochi's voice that Kotone realized what was happening. Absorbed in her internal conflict, she hadn't noticed that the Zashiki-warashi had already destroyed every last one of her ink servants. Now, the creature was pointing its small hand directly at her, locking its extended index finger on her.
She berated herself furiously: how could she have committed a blunder of such magnitude by zoning out in the middle of combat? She saw the anomaly's face contort into a chilling smile and, an instant later, felt an impact on her side. However, it was not the creature's invisible attack, but something very different.
It was Mochi, who had thrown herself in a desperate leap to tackle her and shove her out of the strike's trajectory. An instant later, right behind where they had been standing, the concrete wall was pierced by a perfect cylindrical hole, as if a huge invisible spear had impaled the structure.
Both of them rolled across the floor until coming to rest under the shelter of one of the thick pillars supporting the ceiling, whose shadow temporarily hid them from the anomaly's sight.
Kotone fell heavily onto her back against the ground, and Mochi landed right on top of her. A bitter mixture of rage and intense humiliation erupted in the girl's chest. Nothing in this damn promotion exam was going as she had planned! She had gotten distracted, she had paralyzed in the middle of the confrontation, and to make matters worse... she had to be saved. Again. For a second time, by that wild and undisciplined girl.
"How long are you planning to stay on top of me?! Get off already!" Kotone shrieked, her voice cracking with anger and trampled pride.
She tried to shove her off roughly, but the moment her hands pressed against Mochi's torso, Kotone froze completely. The girl's garment was not only shredded, but soaked in a thick, viscous, and alarmingly hot liquid.
Kotone looked down out of pure reflex. As she gazed at her own hand, all color drained from her face, and her pupils contracted in terror. Her small, white palm was dyed entirely in a brilliant crimson color.
"Blood!... It's... it's her blood..." she thought, terrified.
Panic activated her survival instincts before her mind had time to process the crushing guilt. Noticing that the Zashiki-warashi was already charging its next strike, Kotone raised her giant brush and, tracing a frantic and desperate circular motion, drew a massive stroke of ink around them both.
Black ink gushed into the air, instantly rising like a curved wall that closed over their heads, shaping an impenetrable, opaque dome.
CRASH!
That emergency shelter was erected at the last moment. Barely had it finished sealing shut when a colossal, heavy impact—the force of a gigantic invisible slap—echoed violently against the outside of the shield. The destructive shockwave made the concrete floor tremble, and a network of fine cracks began to branch out along the thick ink wall, threatening to collapse the barrier at any moment.
"You're not going to break it!" Kotone hissed through gritted teeth, clenching them so hard her jaw hurt.
She channeled a massive amount of ether directly into the barrier. The ink took on a life of its own, gushing like a dark torrent that sealed the fractures instantly. The dome regained its impenetrable solidity, plunging the interior into a heavy gloom and a deathly silence, completely isolated from the danger outside; with a simple snap of her fingers, a small glowing sphere materialized above her, illuminating the interior and allowing them to see clearly.
Safe for the moment behind the wall of ink, Kotone dropped her giant brush to the floor and bent down abruptly over Mochi. Every trace of arrogance and composure had vanished from her face. Her hands trembled uncontrollably as she adjusted the girl with extreme care, slowly laying her down on the cold cement of the basement floor.
It was at that moment that the brutal reality of the situation hit her head-on.
The fabric of Mochi's uniform was completely shredded and soaked in a deep, dense crimson. The anomaly's devastating attack had struck her full-on right at the moment she threw herself forward to shove her out of the way and save her life. Blood gushed at a steady, terrifying pace; within seconds, a dark puddle began to form and expand rapidly beneath the catsith's limp body.
With fingers numb and stiffened by terror, Kotone pulled back the soaked shreds of fabric covering Mochi's torso. As she removed the destroyed garment, the atmosphere itself seemed to hold its breath.
Beneath the red tide, a grotesque sight was revealed: a deep, terrifying wound began near her navel and ascended in a painful diagonal until disappearing beneath her left breast. The gash, nearly half an inch wide, gaped open to the sides like a gloomy bloodstained smile. Through the relentless stream of blood, Kotone managed to make out the pale layer of fat beneath the skin and, deeper inside, the exposed muscle tissue, whose shade reminded her with horror of raw meat.
The outside world seemed to fade into nothingness. The constant thudding of the Zashiki-warashi's blows against the ink dome turned into a distant, insignificant rumor.
That viscous red... that open flesh...
Suddenly, a rush of distorted images burst into her mind with the violence of a gale, unearthing traumatic memories she had fought fiercely to forget. She saw the wooden floor of her home buried under dark puddles of blood once more. She saw her uncle lying in the exact same position again, his clothes torn to shreds and his life slipping away through an identical laceration, while she, being just a helpless child, stood paralyzed with terror, completely unable to move a single muscle or utter a word.
Kotone let go of Mochi's shreds of fabric and brought both hands to her head, digging her fingers into her jet-black hair as she curled up into herself, trembling convulsively. A primal, childlike panic completely seized her vocal cords.
"It's my fault... again," she began to hyperventilate, her dilated, wide-open pupils fixed on the red puddle. "Because of me... It's all my fault!"
"No... it's not your fault..."
The voice, broken with agony yet tinged with a baffling firmness, abruptly snatched her from the abyss of her memories.
Kotone blinked, returning suddenly to the ink dome. Mochi had half-opened her eyes; her features contorted in a grimace of unbearable pain, but her pupils looked at her with unconditional warmth. With a superhuman effort that made her shoulders tremble, Mochi offered a tiny, clumsy, and sincere smile.
"You don't have... any reason to cry, shorty," Mochi whispered, her breathing growing weaker and faltering. "I'm... okay."
Kotone froze completely. Her mind took several seconds to process the meaning of her words. Cry? Her, the prodigy of the illustrious Sumizome family?
Out of pure reflex, she brought a trembling hand to her face. Touching her skin, she discovered it was completely soaked: thick, hot tears flowed silently down her cheeks, mixing with the traces of fresh blood staining her fingers.