The second piece for Lost Small World. The original text is provided by .
K ~ Seven Stories: 24 Pieces
Piece 14: Yata Misaki (The distance Where the Voice Would Reach)
by Kabei Yukako
Yata crushed the confiscated PDA underfoot right before the temp green clansman’s eyes.
“Aaaaah…! My pooooweeeeer…!” the clansman screamed in despair.
“Your power, my ass. It ain’t even something you can be proud of or something that gives you any real bonds; taking away your PDA is all takes for your power go over and out.”
The green clansman hung his head in misery, and Yata looked down at him with contempt.
The power of Homura that Suou had given him and Anna kept alive was nothing like what this pathetic guy had, its significance and weight worlds apart. Homura’s power was Yata’s pride.
“I almost had enough points to level up… I had more points than anyone else in my class…”
Still, seeing the guy pitifully weeping and mumbling heartbroken complains
made guilt claw at Yata around the stomach, just a little.
Maybe guys like the one here felt dissatisfied with their small cramped world, too, resenting it. Unable to stand it. Wanting to get back at it. Longing to break free… Maybe their desire for power was the result of all those suffocating feelings they had inside.
“…Keh! Don’t ya ever dare set foot on Homura’s turf ever again!”
Spirits dampened, he left the green clansman with a threat, and when he turned around, he became aware that there was a car with the Scepter 4 ensign on it parked on the other side of the road.
Among the Blues going about their work in an orderly and disciplined fashion while talking over the intercom, there was Fushimi; he stopped in his tracks and was now staring at Yata.
“What? You got a problem with me or something? From this street down it’s the Shizume town, duh! And don’t you Blues dare meddle in our business!”
Without thinking, Yata yelled at the top of his lungs as was in his habit.
Now that he thought about it, he always ended up shouting every time he ran into Fushimi after the latter left Homura. Well, his voice was naturally loud to begin with. And it hardly could be helped anyway, seeing as the distance was such that his voice wouldn’t reach without shouting.
Smoky wind carrying exhaust fumes billowed along the road lying between the two, making the hem of Fushimi’s blue uniform flutter.
Fushimi said something curtly, maybe to Yata or maybe into the intercom pinned on his lapel.
Yata couldn’t friggin hear his quiet murmuring from this distance.
Before, he was sure he would always hear Fushimi no matter the distance, but now he just couldn’t…