summer marks the dying of a child she once knew as akio. he will be remembered only as a faceless bully. the news do not mention him by full name, nor do they mention the true cause of his death; the circumstance of what led him there. despite herself, her blood begins to simmer. his face is the only coherent thought in shams' head, a gaping wound that won't stop bleeding. everything else is a blurry, dizzying mess: the sound of his cries and the way he stood. it won't leave her. it's in her mind and her memory. she tastes his death in the back of her throat, and the world sickeningly laughs at the decay. his blood is on her hands despite never having laid a finger on him— guilt by inaction, by looking away, by trust. the casual cruelty of it all is dehumanizing in its efficiency. and it will simply repeat itself until someone puts a stop to it. it should ignite something. fear. rage. the basic drive to react. no, all she feels is pure shame.
it's winter now. the trees have already changed shade from the vibrant greenery of summertime, their branches no longer full and weighty with the flourish, blossoms no longer bursting and coating the courtyard in soft pinks and whites: only in the outskirts of where she stands are the sweltering flowers, behind the train station thirty minutes over by foot, swaying its thousand eyes in the haze of what little remains of the heat, which is none. the air smells of pinetrees and residual smoke. sunshine gone to rot. she lets out a short breath, because she knows she's not alone. in front of her stands @zetsubocho and she cannot help but believe her terrible gut feeling. if what she thinks is true, then there's blood on both of them now, the same cursed line that binds them to this place, to this case. it occurs to her, with the bitter clarity of the already - damned, that if kuwana truly had something to do with his death, then he will be the last thing the memory of akio will offer her. and for once, she feels like she does not want to speak, or else a dam will break.
why're you here? you should know by now i'm not going to tell you anything.
kuwana's voice is flatly acknowledging. he must have tired of feeling her stare prickle at the side of his throat. must have sensed her the moment she stepped onto the field, waited patiently for her to make her presence known. ❛ my bad. i'm pretty good at finding people. ❜ she tilts her head. silently questioning, coaxing his lips to part again. it's an old habit she has never really wanted to get rid of, knowing it becomes useful in her line of work. usually, with the teachings she's received in the mafia, she can find her way out of them without issue, but it's difficult not to linger, not to trace the imaginary walls with her fingertips (she can feel it when she closes her eyes; every room is empty. the silence stretches out beyond her, haunts a ghosting touch behind her ear). she hums. ❛ i'm not easily fooled, i'll have you know. i could stand here and devote my time in trying to understand your twisted sense of justice and how you seem to use it to rid yourself of the guilt you know stems from your inaction. i could speak about the justice you parade, as you hide behind the people you've put in harms way by using the one thing they could never forget. i could tell you how shameful it is. ❜
how shameful you are. but she won't. she's here for a different reason. ❛ you know something. something i'm very interested in. ❜ kuwana seems to be good at waiting. she's better, that's all. and truly, despite both of their conflicting natures, she doesn't need to wonder what kind of life it takes to become that kind of person, to be surprised when loathing begets loathing. she's lived it, hasn't she? how could a counter - attack ever be unaccounted for? that is a lovely way to think if this was not real life, but it is, and she knows this will change nothing. crimes will continue and people will grieve their loved ones. ❛ and i don't need to say it. you know what my question is. and you probably know the answer. ❜ a pause as she smiles, but it does not reach her eyes. ❛ i'll wait. i have all the time in the world, after all. ❜
gummygunk
dailybridgerton
yousharknotpass
blakekathryn
andulkaphoto
