"Mmph..." I murmured sleepily, completely inaudible on account of my face still being smooshed up against father's chest, rising and falling steadily in sync with his breathing.
''Just five....'' My head was lifted upwards weakly, rubbing at my bleary, sleepy eyes right before rolling left with a small exertion of effort in an attempt to settle in a nicer sleeping position, because while his chest was infuriatingly comfy, it was still dense and hard muscle.
''More....minu- AH!'' And just as the murmuring had begun trailing off into barely comprehensible mumbles, was exactly the moment in which it seems I overestimated just how much father there was to roll around on top of.
THUD
Which led to a rather predictable outcome, me falling onto the carpet face first with a loud thud.
''.....Mmmmmm.'' Could barely even lift my face off the ground, somehow feeling even more tired than just a moment ago, eyelids felt like lead, paired perfectly with the feeling spreading throughout most of my face, which felt like.
''Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck.....''
That.
Then, with all the effort my sleepy self was willing to conjure up, I managed to tilt my head upwards just enough to get a look around the place, continuously rubbing my eyes in an attempt to get rid of at least a smidge of sleepiness.
Now that I think about it...why even lift my head to get a look around if I'm keeping my eyes closed.
Whatever...
I could pretty much tell what kind of day it was outside even without my eyes, nice and sunny, bathing me in a soft glow that presumably spread throughout most of the room, good, the lights here annoyed me, and that's coming from someone who used to have a hole in his celling for lighting.
Anyway, opening these peepers would've been a hell of a sensory.....well, hell anyway. My face was getting a good portion of the sunlight, felt warm, like that water I managed to set on fire yesterday. Still shitty for my eyes though.
''Sigh'' My mouth managed to let out that exasperated little noise while my head remained clouded and dizzy, the effort of trying to stay awake becoming increasingly harder, paradoxically to the fact I was rubbing the sleepiness away like a maniac by this point. I swear I could just melt into the floor right this second, didn't even think it was possible for a carpet to be so comfortable to sleep on.
You know what actually? Why shouldn't I.
Opening an eye confirmed that father was still asleep, softly snoring and hugging a pillow tightly to his chest with a small smile on his lips.
''Yeah, he's...not gonna be waking up to bother me anytime soon.'' Especially so considering that he thought the pillow was me, poetic, only in his dreams do I succumb to actually letting him wrap his arms around me while sleeping.
''And it's like...10 in the morning so we aren't gonna be getting robbed or anyth-''
''...''
''Wait what was I thinking about again...?''
I gave the back of my head a light scratching.
''Something about sleep I think....''
''Eh.'' My shoulders slumped after a small exhale. ''Whatever it was, probably wasn't importa-''
''GAH!'' And then immediately after I was clutching at my head in agony.
Oh right, hangovers exist, forgot about that.
''Man....hurts like a bitch....'' I muttered to myself sulkily, sniffling slightly. Didn't make the persistent throbbing any less painful of course, I'm about half sure it was making it even worse, lucky me.
''Ugh.....'' With my hands still massaging my temples, I rolled over until I was staring up at the celling, deciding it was finally time to open my eyes, barely being able to see anything past my fingers, did confirm my hypothesis though, the apartment had a nice golden glow to it.
''Mhmmm...'' Dangit why did this hurt so much, I've had plenty of hangovers before, what made this one any different...
''Was it the quantity...'' If memory served me right I drank no less than 20 bottles that night.
''...''
''Eh'' Just for a split second did my hands stop massaging while I uttered that. ''Probably not.'' Before going right back to it.
''Ugh...'' That massage had transitioned into a general face rub, which didn't help the hangover and only made my face hurt on top of it, fantastic.
Peeling myself off the floor slowly and lifting my arms over my head, I began walking towards the kitchen counter, making soft thuds against the carpet with every footstep.
''Ngh-'' Went back to massaging my head, with a little more fervor this time, less so to stave off the headache and more so to try and remember what helps with hangovers again. ''It really does hurt like a bitch...''
Not soon after had I made it to the kitchenette, slamming the fridge door open hard enough to rattle, peeking inside revealed all the stuff that was bought yesterday, not sure why I expected some miracle anti hangover medicine.
Gave the fridge's interior a grumpy look, as if it were somehow responsible for my sufferings, right before slamming it shut again decisively.
''Sigh, I'll just have some toast I guess.''
Standing on my tippy toes, my hands reached for the cabinet, taking out a bag of pre-sliced bread, and right as it was being taken out to be placed into the toaster.
''Gah-'' Did my head throb again, more incessantly this time, I don't even think a hole in my head could make it feel better at this point, let alone some bland food.
Whatever, I'll live, into the toaster that bread went.
While waiting for that to be done, a dozen or so more minutes of furiously attempting to soothe the hangover away wouldn't hurt.
I swear those 5 minutes of waiting for that fucking toast to warm up felt like slow motion.
Gave me some time to think at least, on what to do with the remainder of my morning, and brainstorm possible hangover solutions.
A bath sounded nice, but I am not risking the sleeping beauty on the couch awakening from his perpetual slumber and then insisting on joining me.
Maybe more food? That helps with hangovers...but then again, walking all that distance didn't sound so pleasant.
I clicked my tongue a little, rocking back and forth, what to do, what to do....
''Mhm...'' For some reason my throat felt sore on top of all of this, one hand moving down from atop my head scratch at my neck, which helped solve the problem at about the same degree the massaging did for the hangover, fuck all.
''Mmph...maybe I'm just thirsty.'' Coming to that conclusion was only logical at that moment, couldn't recall when the last time a drop of water had touched my tongue.
And so, I stood tippy toed once again to reach at the cabinet, take out a glass of water, fill it to the brim, and take several long swigs.
''Ah~'' Wiping my mouth with a satisfied sigh once I was done.
...It did absolutely nothing to make my throat feel any less dry.
''Ah for FUCK'S SA-'' My body was already in a perfect pitching position to chuck that glass at the nearest wall, before stealing a glimpse of Byron's still sleeping form in the corner of my eye.
Wisely choosing to gently lay it down on the countertop instead.
Also happened to be when that distinctive clink reached my ears, seemed like my toast was done, even if eating it didn't sound so pleasant at the moment.
But, alas, another migraine made me reconsider, because if I had a choice between dealing with the hangover or a sore throat, the latter was getting picked any day of the week.
Especially with a hangover this bad..
My hand plucked a piece of toast from the apparatus, which I placed in my mouth and bit down on angrily, mellowing out the migraine, barely.
''...''
And not soon after did my shoulders slump, jaw relaxing enough for the toast to drop out, allowing me to sigh.
Now, that sigh didn't come from any place of relief, but yet a reluctant acceptance of my fate.
''Alteast this day can't get any wor-''
KNOCK
KNOCK
Never mind, clearly it fucking can.
I peeked around a corner to glare towards that stupid door, like it was responsible for disturbing me and not whoever was on the other end.
Seems like I've been getting angry at inanimate objects a lot this morning...could just be losing it.
The thought of my rapidly diminishing mental state was a worry for later, for in the now, an index messenger was probably at my door, ready to get me to do even more of his annoying errands.
With dull thuds against plush carpet, the bare feet of a second kindred walked over towards that door.
As I did so, I could hear an impatient tapping on the other end, against concrete.
''Weird, by now he'd normally be attempting to kick it down.''
I firmly placed my hand on the knob before turning, fully expecting to see the familiar index messenger.
''What do you want this time Bisho-''
''...''
''-p?''
And, it was anything but that.
Instead, a dozen or so grizzled looking men, all unclean and unkept, the picturesque image of rowdy backstreets fixers, dressed in dark grey uniforms, rhomboid accessories lining their arms around the elbows, straps were scattered around their outfits here and there, completed with a cartridge belt holding an unidentifiable set of liquids, brandishing large spiked hammers.
Currently with the quickest headcount I could manage, there were five of them before me, but with all the chatter I could easily tell their numbers totaled to far more than that.
Again though, problems for later, those current five were holding the aforementioned weapons in their hands, which were being doused in some sort of chemical from a vial taken from the cartridge belt.
I knew who these people were, and why they were here, I wasn't stupid.
And yet, maybe it was my grumpiness that caused me to cling onto some mad semblance of hope that this could be resolved peacefully.
Staring up at the man's gaze, which looked down with a mix of contempt and disgust, I spoke those magical little words.
''May I help you?''
''...''
''...''
''...Is that a ye-''
''GET HIM!''
''Sigh.''
Why even bother...?
But then again, a strange feeling came over me upon seeing the first two charge ahead, hammers raised with the intent to turn my head into a pinata.
Like a voice in the back of my head had just gone silent, if that made any sense.
''Oh, now I get it.''
A brief look was cast upon the nearest fixer, and with a quick adjusting of my sleeve.
SQUELCH
I planted my feet firmly into the floor, dashing straight ahead, hand in the shape of a claw, dodging his clumsy hammer strike with complete ease, then jamming the index and middle fingers into his eye sockets, thumb into his mouth, and the ring and pinky into the side of his face.
Didn't even have a second to react, lucky him, this would be relatively painless.
And so, my hand yanked upwards.
The consequence being immediate and violent, his head nearly coming off his shoulders with a mix of sickening squelches and tears, blood spraying out the various holes in his neck like a geyser
''I was just thirsty.''
His body fell to the ground, limp and lifeless, very unfortunately staining that precious blue carpet with his blood, no matter though, they were all gonna die soon anyway as repentance, didn't exactly matter.
It was a little confusing that even after that sight though, they didn't stop charging at me.
Whether it was pure stupidity or unbridled hatred, was hard to tell
''DIE!'' The next fixer in line yelled, bringing his hammer down onto me, and the residual smell of antiseptics that came with it.
In retaliation, my arms were raised to block. His hammer colliding with a noise that rung out throughout the room.
First time taking a hit head on, intentionally of course, it didn't hurt particularly badly, mostly taking shape as a persistent throbbing sensation in my limbs.
I was going to try decapitate him with a kick but...he was too tall.
Mentally cursing for the briefest of moments was all that was needed to get back into things, briefly darting my eyes around the room confirmed that those other three fixers weren't close enough to be a threat just yet, but more were pouring into the room at a staggering rate.
And of course sleeping beauty back there was still in his deep slumber on the couch.
''Should probably wrap this up quickly...don't want to wake him up.''
''YOU SHOULD PAY ATTENTION WHEN YOU'RE FIGHTING YOU LITTLE SHIT-''
My hand shot out to deliver a punch into his abdomen. The sound of bones and organs crunching making itself audible.
''GAH-''
Judging solely off of physical reaction, seems like I hit him in the liver, perfect.
Just as intended, he keeled over, clutching at his stomach, weapon uselessly falling onto the floor. I expected it to do a little more damage though, apart from the obvious momentary pain this was still an injury he could walk off pretty easily.
Maybe their augments were better than the kurokumo clan's...[1]
''T-the hell....this isn't a fifth kindred...'' Those words were barely spoken between clenched teeth, even though he came here with an explicit purpose to kill me, the fear in his eyes, looking up at me...
''...''
Just for a brief moment did I hesitate.
Killing fixers huh....
''...'' My brows furrowed momentarily
''You should've picked a different profession.'' I muttered to him.
That pool of blood on the carpet had grown nicely, stretching my hand out towards it, rivulets of crimson liquid gathering towards the palm.
Upon reaching, they stretched and morphed, wrapping around each other in coils until a solid shape was formed, crystallizing and hardening shortly thereafter.
A large staff, about my height, flourished for a moment before being placed atop the man's shoulder.
''...''
''Sorry.''
''I don't need your pity pig-''
With a simple flick of my wrist, a loud bang echoed, his head was blown to smithereens, splattering an ludicrous amount of blood both onto me and everything in the immediate vicinity.
That warm liquid on my face, what a wondrous feeling it was.
I licked my lips for just a second, letting myself indulge in the flavor.
''Hmph.'' The staff in my hand began to shift once more, coagulating into a new shape as I looked at the remainder of the fixers, huddled together by the door, weapons clutched with white knuckled grips and obvious fear on their faces.
''Seems I was right.''
Even more blood flowed from the ground into my weapon, before a shape was finalized, a large hardblood scythe residing in my firm grip.
''I was.'' Which I flourished and spun around for a moment.
''Just thirsty.''
Then kicked off the ground towards the nearest terrified fixer, who raised his weapon in an attempt to defend himself.
SHINK
Which was as successful as you'd expect, I easily sidestepped it, making a diagonal slash against his chest with the scythe's full weight, opening a gaping, gashing wound, he too fell lifelessly to the floor.
The remaining fixers looked down at me with a mix of fear and determination in their eyes, charging with every ounce of strength their augmented bodies could muster up.
Six of them in total, one trying to cave my head in with a downwards swing, two others hitting me from the side, and four still charging in from the doorway, attempting to assist their comrades.
It was the absolute best they could've done in this situation.
And yet...
SHINK
SHINK
SHINK
SHINK
SHINK
SHINK
I swung that scythe around relentlessly, my sheer lack of skill with wielding it didn't make a difference, mildly nudging any of them with it was enough for a decapitation given the ludicrous strength possessed.
Lifelessly, all of their heads slid off their shoulders, blood spraying, innards leaking, right before their bodies hit the floor with the same limpness.
All that remained were 4 more fixers, standing petrified in the doorway.
''Sigh, I'll make this quick mkay-''
''DIE YOU FUCKING MONSTER!'' The man in front charged at me.
SHINK
Scratch that, all that remained were 3 more fixers.
All huddled together with such obvious fear on their faces.
Killing fixers didn't sit right with me....brought some bad memories up.
But if there's one thing I hate in this city, it's a hypocrite.
And so I reformed my weapon once again, this time in the form of a large sword, clutching it in my hands tightly.
And slashing, with every last ounce of strength possessed.
Was enough to cut all three of them in half, their torsos rolling back down the stairs, staining the hallways with blood as well.
''...''
That was the last of them.
I sort of just looked down at their corpses, feeling a mild pang of regret, the weapon held in my hands falling upon the loosening of my grip.
''Sigh.''
''At least nothing hurts anymore-''
''SPLENDID JOB MINE KINDRED!''
And of course, he chooses now of all times to wake up.
[1] The Kurokumo clan wakashu if memory serves me right are around level 30 while an average Fanghunt Fixer is around level 40