@bereaval
She was saying something to him, her arms waving about with the theatrical flair he had come to associate with her, but he wasn’t really listening. He tuned in and out like bad reception, eyes focused on the hair clip he held delicately between his thumb and index finger.
Chiaki Nanami, class representative of 77-B and symbol of hope, was dead: fact. Her death... bothered him, caused a distinct and suffocating feeling of loss he hadn’t experienced ever before: fact.
She had proved her hope to be a worthy rival to Enoshima’s despair: fact.
Izuru returned the clip to the inside pocket of his jacket. “You insist hope is harmony and despair is chaos. Is it truly that simple?”











