starter for @rctio! apologies in advance for any flub in canon orz
I tried a few new things with the formatting on this one! I wanted to try a different style of writing, too. I kind of went with my gut on this one; I hope it’s okay! \o/
i’m actually really proud of this post ngl
Minato Mirai 21 was abnormally busy at this time of night. As Yokohama’s primary business district, the strip was extremely crowded, despite the time ticking away at the wrists of citizens who had decided that they wouldn’t work themselves to death in their tiny offices this evening. Men and women dressed in freshly-pressed suits raced up and down the bleached sidewalks, heels clicking incessantly as warm bodies wove and maneuvered through the commotion in hopes of making the last train for the evening at the station up ahead. The full midnight moon was perched high above the anything-but-dreary district, but it was almost impossible to decipher amid the flashing lights and quickening pace of central Yokohama.
With as busy as it was, it was a wonder that anyone could miss the stumbling girl or ignore the scent of sea salt and coagulated blood that stuck to her skin.
(she was happy to not feel those thousands of gazes)
In truth, the witch of the seven seas was hardly familiar with this land. Though the salty scent of her dear Pacific wafted gently with the breeze and an acquainted moon hung high in the sky, Wadanohara could feel no further connection to this “Minato Mirai”. And even though the bits and pieces of language she managed to put together in the organized chaos seemed to be a tongue she could recognize, it did nothing to quell the fear and utter bewilderment that swirled and crashed against the walls of her chest like a hurricane. Truth be told, a smaller side of her usually relished in such vivid and convoluted exotica, but now the dizzying lights stabbed at the centers of her eyes and made her stomach turn.
Perhaps she should have not followed that weary traveler, the one who had lent his ear to her story in the peace of a few short hours ago.
It was a wonder that her concealing spell was holding water to begin with, with her plummeting stamina and the severe blockage of her moon. She could thank only the magical capacity (or lack thereof) of this world for the success of her most basic -- and currently, only functioning -- spell. Even as she trudged past the other citizens of this sleepy yet sleepless world, though, she could feel the magic in her veins snapping and crackling, like electricity cutting violently in and out in her blood. Yes, her moments of invisibility in this world were strictly numbered, ticking away like the seconds on the wrists of the businessmen surrounding her.
In her haste, Wadanohara had not even been allowed to piece together the tragedy to which she’d bore witness. She could see the images, carmine wreckage that flashed in strobe-lighted mayhem behind her vision. She could feel the way the air surrounding her had changed, the pungent stench of death and coagulated, stagnant blood clinging to her lungs. Not only that, though, not only that --
(she could feel him, leather digits pressing against her windpipe, leaving crescent indents on her throat as warm breath and airy chuckles danced along her cheek -- “my sea, my sea
mine, mine, M I N E “)
Even that split second of focus that had drifted away from the task at hand had completely incapacitated Wadanohara, and she cried out weakly as she fell to the floor with a deafening thud. She had reached her hands out just in time for her palms to take the majority of her fall, scraping roughly against the pavement. She began to cough violently, sanguine rivulets dripping haphazardly from the corners of her mouth as she felt the last of her remaining magic evaporate from her body and back into Mother Moon above. Anyone who was paying attention to something other than their path ahead would see the beaten, bruised, tattered witch, shoulders shaking and chest heaving with retches, sobs, and blood.
(how will you save your sea now, wadanohara?)
