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Kanako left the hospital alone. She knew she wasn't actually alone, but the feeling couldn't help but creep her way into her spine. She pulled out her phone and checked her texts. Nothing. She started to text Paule.
>Im sorry for evrything...
She hit send. Paule probably hated her at this point, which was fair, but she had to try. She ordered a ride to her apartment, which arrived shortly.
Making her way home, she slammed her apartment door, leaning against it and taking a few deep breaths. She'd been used to following orders for so long, being truly free made her especially paranoid. Turning around, she saw a crate, delivered just right in the middle of her living room.
Kanako walked back to her armory, coming out with a crowbar, tearing the box open. She peaked inside. It was full of syringes of NM-823. Prophet helped her out probably, shipping it.
Kanako teared the lid off, before grabbing one of the syringes and tearing the plastic wrapper off of it. She pulled the syringe out of the wrapper, before injecting it into her left arm.
>F-Frick-
Kanako stated as the cold feeling entered her left arm. She shook her arm for a few seconds, before walking back over to her laptop bag, pulling it out, and putting the laptop on her coffee table.
Over the next few hours, Kanako looked over many WWA matches and promos. She printed out pictures of various roster members, laying them out on her table. She briefly considered Paule, Noire, and Ash. The dojo girls she still held in regard. The first two probably wouldn't go for it...and the latter had a conflict of interest. Her work drew to a close after another hour. On top of the pictures she printed, three were on top. Hopefully this worked.
>I...think I got what I'm looking for.
