Plot: Ieiri Shoko has watched all of her friends die, one by one, and stood there completely helpless, without even the privilege of any blood on her hands. What if she could change this? What if there was something, anything she could do, to bring them back? If only for a moment, whether in broken body or whole, if only to say goodbye? Disclaimer: I know there are some inaccuracies to the series. Do not come for me about those, I'm aware they exist, these are purposeful choices. Intend to update weekly (on Wednesdays!), I'll do my best <3
AO3 Link: Healing
My mother had always taken amusement in how I decapitated my dolls, little dictator, are you?, so I wonder whether the head in my lap would bring the same smile to her lips. Suguru’s hair once fell in a silky sheet, the lights dancing off its ebony surface in pearly sheens. Kenjaku did not care for his vessel the way its long dead owner did. The hair was dull, chopped at random ends, as though in acts of mindless vandalism, and I could not brush my fingers through it without catching in tangles. The heart monitors sneered with their steady flatlines, what, you think he will thank you for brushing your hair when you bring him back? You will bring back a decapitated head, once possessed? What if it is Kenjaku that returns?
“Then I will kill him myself. We mourned Suguru a long time ago, before he had even died. Then we mourned him again. I won’t mourn him a third time.”
Dead skin was more difficult to stitch back than living. The ends were stiff, sticking too well to the gloves’ latex, and my thighs began to ache from the head’s weight. “Suguru would hate these stitches. Satoru would wear them proudly, but Suguru would hate them… His bangs don’t cover the one on the forehead well enough, and he’s not a fan of high collars.” Cosmetics were secondary.
A cold wetness began to pool around my feet,...
Read the full thing on AO3 :) Link to the whole work at the beginning of the post, and link to the corresponding chapter in the last line!
Plot: Ieiri Shoko has watched all of her friends die, one by one, and stood there completely helpless, without even the privilege of any blood on her hands. What if she could change this? What if there was something, anything she could do, to bring them back? If only for a moment, whether in broken body or whole, if only to say goodbye?
Disclaimer: I know there are some inaccuracies to the series. Do not come for me about those, I'm aware they exist, these are purposeful choices. Intend to update weekly (on Wednesdays!), I'll do my best <3
AO3 Link: Healing
Children’s stories describe mortuaries as dark, with a shadowy figure working in between pristinely rotting bodies, painting with blood splatters and cackling maniacally to the buzzing of a stray moth. Dim lights would be more merciful, for these blinding ones of pure white turned the coal black of body bags into diamonds, and still lingering warmth into ice.
The metal tray, tray, they were nothing more than fodder, creaked as it rolled out of the freezer box. Three bodies side by side, while the memory of one haunted the fourth. A fifth grave would have sat pretty, yet instead here I stand, in a mockingly pristine lab-coat, half hoping that if I wore no mask, their unseeing eyes would recognise my face and take comfort in it.
“What comfort? That after everything, you’re the one who survived?”
I answered my own questions, the sound of my voice disgustingly loud in the deathly silence. Three boy soldiers, battered and scarred, bruised and burned. A display for the medical textbooks, really, how many people do you see cleaved in half? How many do you see missing half their face? How many do you see twice dead, beheaded, with lobotomy stitches? I could practically hear my old professor’s voice; Look how the vertebrae is split at the lower thoracic segment, it’s such an unusual death, ha, it’s something you’d see in a horror movie! Ieiri-kun, you’re always so unfazed by all this, it’s so unusual for a girl your age!
I am not a girl anymore, Okamoto-san, and I never was.
“Why am I still alive, huh, Satoru? Aren’t you supposed to be the strongest one? You leave behind all these kids and this, revolution, as you’ve always called it. That would be enough for you to live, wouldn’t it? Live or die, because you did die. You’d be happy to die like this, knowing you left behind a legacy. Well, maybe you’re honourable… I’m not. That’s why I’m not dead. RCT, the hell was the point of it all, huh? Who am I healing?” I perch on the cold table as I used to on wooden classroom ones, waiting for a response to come from my own echoes.
“Why did I keep your body so long, Kento…?"
Read the full thing on AO3 :) Link in the last line and at the beginning of the post!
FINALLY got around to watching season 3 and. Oh my God. The Maki episode. Oh my God. Season 3 episode 4 you are everything to me. I cried. I had to go on a walk after it. I had to process for so long.
THIS EPISODEEEE???? It was so beautifully executed the lost of Mai was so profoundly felt the whole time even after it had passed, like the hole in Maki's heart that she had left. The whole Kill Bill references scene, the music playing being almost cheerful while she massacred them all (huge fan of the music showing someone's mental state, this sort of cheery childlike tune as she's fulfilling her childhood dreams.
The blood splatters being the only visible colour, and them being pink instead of red, the "feminine" colour is the prominent one in the remains of the most horrifically misogynistic clan. The constant flashes of the birds, her loss. I'm ill to my stomach I'm SICK TO MY STOMACH
Nevermind the incredible satisfaction that comes with watching Naoya get beat up in multiple actions in slow motion. And then also stabbed in the back <3 just like his own little self-fulfilling prophecy <3
"Because we're all a little neurodivergent" no. no. Please Shut Up. That is not how it works that is quite literally the opposite of what neurodivergent means; divergent from the "typical". Oh my God.
"Because we're all a little neurodivergent" no. no. Please Shut Up. That is not how it works that is quite literally the opposite of what neurodivergent means; divergent from the "typical". Oh my God.
