𝑰𝑻 𝑰𝑺 𝑨 𝑪𝑶𝑵𝑻𝑰𝑵𝑼𝑶𝑼𝑺 𝑪𝒀𝑪𝑳𝑰𝑵𝑮 𝑶𝑭 𝑨𝑮𝑶𝑵𝒀 , 𝑪𝑳𝑰𝑵𝑮𝑰𝑵𝑮 𝑻𝑶 𝑭𝑨𝑫𝑬𝑫 𝑾𝑯𝑰𝑺𝑷𝑬𝑹𝑺 & 𝑷𝑯𝑨𝑵𝑻𝑶𝑴 𝑱𝑶𝒀𝑺 . Everything in him begs for him to turn to her , to gaze upon her like he once had ( it feels so long ago , the soft touches & warming breath against each other’s skin ) . Paths once wound together , abruptly rendered from their shared trails , colliding once more into an infinite line , but now run alongside one another , PARALLEL . He doesn’t dare reach out for her , knowing all too well how it would result in their RUINATION .
𝑩𝑼𝑻 𝑯𝑬𝑹 𝑽𝑶𝑰𝑪𝑬 𝑴𝑨𝑲𝑬𝑺 𝑯𝑰𝑴 𝑺𝑬𝑪𝑶𝑵𝑫 - 𝑮𝑼𝑬𝑺𝑺 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑫𝑬𝑪𝑰𝑺𝑰𝑶𝑵 . 𝑪𝑶𝑵𝑽𝑰𝑪𝑻𝑰𝑶𝑵 𝑮𝑰𝑽𝑰𝑵𝑮 𝑾𝑨𝒀 𝑻𝑶 𝑫𝑶𝑼𝑩𝑻 . This isn’t the first time he’s felt it well up within him . Countless days he drifted within the muddled memories & the present . He hasn’t forgotten the warmth that would swell within his chest , lodging itself in his heart ( it used to beat fiercely for her , the echo of it still pulsating even now ) . Something in him c r a c k s , lips parting in mute shock as horned crown TURNS TOWARDS HER , as if some spectral hand forced him to regard her .
𝑺𝑯𝑬’𝑺 𝑨𝑺 𝑩𝑹𝑬𝑨𝑻𝑯𝑻𝑨𝑲𝑰𝑵𝑮 𝑨𝑺 𝑯𝑬 𝑹𝑬𝑴𝑬𝑴𝑩𝑬𝑹𝑺 . 𝑻𝑯𝑶𝑼𝑮𝑯 𝑬𝑽𝑬𝑵 𝑴𝑬𝑴𝑶𝑹𝒀 𝑭𝑨𝑰𝑳𝑺 𝑻𝑶 𝑫𝑶 𝑨𝑵𝒀 𝑱𝑼𝑺𝑻𝑰𝑪𝑬 𝑻𝑶 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑩𝑬𝑨𝑼𝑻𝒀 𝑵𝑶𝑾 𝑩𝑬𝑭𝑶𝑹𝑬 𝑯𝑰𝑴 . It is the shattered expression that contorts her features that causes an aching GUILT to lance through him , rendering him silent in the face of her words .
i wish to be forgotten ,
but not by you .
𝑯𝑬 𝑪𝑨𝑵’𝑻 𝑻𝑬𝑳𝑳 𝑰𝑭 𝑰𝑻’𝑺 𝑯𝑰𝑺 𝑶𝑾𝑵 𝑻𝑯𝑶𝑼𝑮𝑯𝑻𝑺 𝑶𝑹 𝑯𝑬𝑹𝑺 𝑻𝑯𝑨𝑻 𝑯𝑬 𝑯𝑬𝑨𝑹𝑺 , 𝑶𝑹 𝑩𝑶𝑻𝑯 . She remembered him , holding to a phantom self that would never be again . He cannot bring himself to bring her to harm , be it physically or emotionally ( but a voice cries out against his hypocrisy ) . Fingers extend & curl , sucking in a short breath & holding it prisoner for a short time .
❝ It is not you that has become the stranger , but rather the thing that stands before you . You loved a man with DREAMS & AMBITIONS , for himself , for his family , for his Love . Desires of which are now dead & gone , wrenched away along with his final breath . Allow him to become the stranger in your stead , for it is the dead that should be forgotten , not the living . ❞
allow this to be my final wish for you .
he had always been so careful. him; the shape of a dimly silhouette beneath an open doorway, behind him there was no frayed rope, no in-between, no inflection of another person just … simply him. no disconnection could be seen or felt, it was quiet but not too quiet, not a smothering silence but a calm, gentle and wide. it washed over her like mist poured from silver, turning the edges and lengths of her muscles into foggy moors and her hands to water. umiko did not need to break down pieces of herself in order to be, she simply was. another home build from inside, all around, marking her then making her, then splashing outward: sincerity. affirmation. safety. love. what makes your soul sing a thousand songs.
the threads did not wither, she never doubted them, the strength of their bond, even now it overwhelms her. no, these threads did not rot, they were cut away, quickly and brutally. not another word. that shape of a person flickers until he is gone. another fire-cast shadow never meant to last but she wished this time, truly, maybe this time! ❝ the dead are our shadows.❞ she says together with her heart of hearts, even if she falters beneath those words. her lips tremble, if only slightly. she covers herself in no veil to blur her face, no hesitation marking the twitch of her fingers. once again she is laid bare before him.
❝ we walk with them, we sometimes know their names and remember, until we forget. ❞ umiko shakes her head as she speaks, her gloved hand that lingered just beside her now waits for another. perhaps it is instinct, perhaps it is muscle memory and something far more cruel and expecting. what she knows will never be, but she still knows much. ❝ you have become those shadows and yet … ❞ your name will always be known to me.
she knows she should not desire such a thing, to keep his name forever, never to depart. another painful truth layered upon a painful truth. strange, she had already soothed so many other aches but when it came to the here and now, her own grief, she does not know what to do other than yearn. another time, another place. so she chooses to walk, not far nor near, simply there, a few steps further to him. with her other hand she presses the tips of her own fingers, until its glove is cleanly off. the chilled night air is brittle yet real, it is affirming.
❝ you are more than another shadow. i know why they say your name in fear, i know you have been called back for another purpose.❞ gilded eyes slide back to him, her gaze gently perched upon him, her naked hand still lingering. ❝ if it is so then i — ❞ her own words turn blanched, faltering once again, as if her own tongue betrayed her. ❝ — i wish to have but a moment with your name in my heart, away from all those other voices. even if for a moment. ❞
