A make up kit, the size of a small handbag, red with little white flowers, of a glittering plastic. It wasn't an article commonly seen at the hand of the green-eyed young woman walking between two courses. If it wasn't for her mother had liked it, she would have thrown it long ago, the object being neither particularly pretty nor useful.
In addition to this kit, Makoto wore thick black pantyhose under her skirt, cotton gloves, a think mask of make up slightly less clumsy than the previous day and a touch of a heavy perfume that would have done better with more moderation. Her heavy, joyless pace carried her to a washroom on the first floor who, due to its distance from most classrooms and its unsubtle smell, was generally deserted. Keeping an acceptable appearance was increasingly demanding.
She touched up the area around the eyes where the make up was affected by the drops she used to moisten her eyes, and had to use a wet Q-tips to dislodge some mildew who enjoyed the moisture. She refilled her water bottle and took a small sip, not more not to feed the stench well her stomach was becoming. Her last meal was rotting in it, inflating it with gas probably awfully painful to one who would still feel his body.
She took off her gloves and inspected her fingers. Her wounded hand had grown thinner, the flesh quickly dehydrating, otherwise there wasn't too mush change. Her arms pretty much the same too, except for the white dots, who had not hatched into horrible little squirming worms. She almost screamed and, without daring to look, soaked a towel with alcohol and vigorously scrubbed. Most of the worms were dislodged or poisoned by the alcohol, but the earliest were already under the skin, making a feast of the putrefied flesh.
She pulled down her sleeves, put her gloves back on and picked up the assortment of bottles she had pulled from her kit. Without looking up from the floor, she came out and headed to the class, not to be late.

Friday being the usual meeting day for the warriors, Makoto forced herself to get to their usual meeting place. Still wanting to hide the plague devouring her, she had acted normally and prepared the cupcakes she owed to Usagi before school, and a plate of chocolate fudge for Minako, who's birthday was only in a couple of days.
Her presents met their goals, they enjoyed them, but she wasn't blind, not yet at least, forcing herself to smile and maintain her friendships fooled no one. So, when they parted, Usagi held her by the shoulder and invited herself to walk her home to do what Makoto wanted the least, speak.
"I've seen you looking better, Mako-chan.
– I'm a little tired, she lied, I was sick this week. I'm not completely well, I have to wear gloves because the skin thing is contagious.
- Heu… maybe I shouldn't eat these cakes?
- I cooked with my hands in plastic bags, do you think I'm trying to poison you?
- Listen, I worry about you, did you look at yourself? You're all skinny, you hide every centimetre of skin, what is there to hide?
- Nothing. Nothing but what you already saw. Would you show that rash in public?
– I suppose I wouldn't. But I would go to the doctor right away!
- How do you think I knew it was contagious? It's not very serious.
– I feel like… do you think it's because of… last Saturday? Ami doesn't want me to tell you not to alarm you but… you have absolutely no energy! You're using mine, I don't know how though. Maybe you're sick because it's not enough, of it doesn't have the right vibration for you.
– Or I'm a living dead. I might feel better if I roamed the city eating people's brains! hmm… yeah… it's not you who can help me with that…
- Is the entire human race conspiring to mock me?
- Oh no! You uncovered our plan!
On these words she turned her back and ran. Usagi frowned. Makoto had purposely turned the conversation into ridicule before leaving, to make sure she wouldn't insist. She was already worried, and this, didn't it prove her right? Well, tomorrow she would highjack her date with Mamoru to visit her, she felt if she went alone the door would stay closed for her. Her friend had something to hide, that disease was much more sinister than she admitted.

Chapter 7