Preservatives

Author: Seth

"It won't bring them back, but maybe it will let them move onward."

Everything in life needed tending.

It was a lesson that she hadn't so much been taught as slowly come to realize as she moved through life. Oddly enough this comprehension came to her not from the, admittedly rough, care of her father, nor from her time she spent with her friends, but during a late night spent carefully nursing her array of poisons.

Some lasted months, even years without aid, but even then they still needed to be renewed every once in a while. Others would last but a single day if she didn't carefully preserve them.

Slowly, as she put her toxins in order she unconsciously started comparing them to those around her.

The lovely clear one to her right; quiet, unassuming, lasting practically forever and always there for her when she needed an efficient hand. Senma.

The light red one in front of her; used in small amounts to dull pain, inducing a sense of giddiness that would send the receiver laughing to their graves if they overdosed. Haru.

The temperamental little green one a bit below the first; needing constant upkeep and failing as often as it succeeded. She only even bothered with it because when it did succeed, the results could be quite… entertaining. Fuu.

The deep black one to her left; simple, blunt, to the point. A single prick and the victim would be dead the next second. Nobu.

And so she continued, tending to each of her poisons, assigning each to one of her comrades until all the matches had been made.

As her friends die, one by one, she adds another needle her pack, each dyed a different colour to.

Everything needs to be tended, and her grudge is no exception. It grows slowly but surely, preserved with each needle she introduces to her arsenal, and she won't let it die until every one of the tiny needles have been spent.