|| 茜 || :: “You’re saying you’re not the same as other humans? Then tell me… how are you different? Do you even feel the least appreciated that I stopped that demon from tearing your throat out that night? Or even realized I fought it to keep it occupied so it wouldn’t hurt you?” Honestly, she had never been someone to judge another person without knowing them well. Of course, she didn’t know anything about this person next to her except for the fact that he was human. But it was his actions that defined what she thought of her. “All you think.. is that I’ve ruined your life… Did you ever think that I was risking my own trying to make sure that demon was unable to harm you?”
His current state had proved her point. He wasn’t even scratched by that demon. Not even a bruise quite she shifted a little, long crimson strands fell from her shoulder in reveal of faint scars akin to wounds from animal claws. The injury she attained just recently from that particular demon. But of course, he didn’t care she threw herself at that malicious being as long as he was safe, didn’t he? Her skin was decorated of them, scars littering like maps of China.
“Because… I wish someone, anyone… would remember me.” His question was no longer being replied in an angered manner but in a whisper so quiet. Seemingly, the topic was much too sensitive for her to get riled up about. Ashamed and embarrassed that she had to admit being so weak in front of this stranger who just wanted her to be out of his life forever. Eyes cast down as she curled herself up as well, pushing her knees to her chest and tucked her chin.
“Pathetic, isn’t it? But no one ever know who I am. Just like you, they don’t care who I am. Every single human I’ve saved didn’t care if I’ve saved their lives. If I’m a monster or a God. They don’t know and they don’t ever wanted to know. All they want was to have a normal life. Free of worry. Let others worry about things.. not them.” Why was she being honest with him? Right. Because she was going to erase his memories either way. He didn’t want to remember, so why would she keep herself inside his head? An ironic chuckle. “Why am I even talking about this with you…”
“Come here. I won’t hurt you, you have my word. You want to forget, right? I’ll make everything go away. You won’t ever remembered having met me in the first place.”
All at once, Haru’s throat feels far too narrow; he gives a labored attempt to swallow only to fear he might choke on her words, as though they hang in the air about him. And how they do, how heavy her air has become, transforming into such an oppressive weight helped along by her rightful accusations. Loathe as he would be to admit it given his intense opinion on the matter, he had spoken too hastily -- and maybe even entirely out of turn. Pale gaze falls especially on the scars though he dare not allow his eyes to linger there too long; he of all people understands better than most that such marks tell stories ripe with emotion. Maybe she gave up trying to hide hers long ago... if her story could really be believed.
( But how could it not be? The display that night, her display, in all her radiant and courageous splendor. Could someone’s bravery be given a true and visceral light, a presence? Because if so, how he felt its touch upon his skin: far too hot and much too close. Such a dazzling thing, something almost beyond his comprehension; how could an existence as dull as his hope to even stand beside hers without burning up in a flash of insignificance. )
Silence possesses an innate sort of talent: it self-perpetuates. You needn’t offer it any assistance. It needs no help to continue draping its veil over countless souls, causing them to fall into quiet. And Haru becomes acutely aware of its descent upon them the longer he delays his response. Nothing he could say or do could make up for his snapping at her, regardless of his belief that at least some of it could be justified. The truth threatens to catch him in a stranglehold from the inside should he even dare to utter it, so he fumbles for his words and turns his face away.
How strange a pair they make, how odd a picture, the two of them perched up on this hill overlooking the park and the begin of the urban sprawl just beyond. Perhaps they’re more alike than they’d care to admit, that fact that they spend more time watching the world than involving themselves in...
❝ That’s not...! ❞ Haruka groans and shoves both hands full-force into his unruly mane, ruffling dark locks and scratching with frustration at his scalp. Articulating clearly never was one of his strong suits, and once again it’s failed him beautifully. ❝ Look, that’s not what I meant, okay...? Just that... I don’t care if you’re a human... or not. That sort of thing... I’ve found it doesn’t really matter to me, and that’s why I said it has nothing to do with this. Because to me, it doesn’t. Or at least... it doesn’t make me think... badly of you or something. Ahhh, ちくしょう...! ❞
Talking like this is absolutely embarrassing, and Haru isn’t in the business of leaving himself vulnerable for very long.
❝ I don’t want to be free of worry... I just want to have the same worries as any other guy for once. ❞
The young man blatantly disregards her suggestion, instead shifting the tiniest bit away from her. He shoots her a look of suspicion, one that might even be approaching comical at this point.
❝ ... Didn’t you just say you wanted someone to remember you, and yet you’re so eager to get rid of me-- ❞
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