( [voice post / private to self / unhackable] )

[The steady, driving pelt of rain fills the post. A rumble of thunder, and a howl of wind.]

Mmm . . . rain? . . .

[She sounds exhausted and wan, and her voice is heavy with dazed sorrow. An audible shudder.]

Cold . . .

[The crack of lighting.]

Mitsuhide-san . . .

. . .

Mitsuhide-san? . . .

[A shocked pause.]

[There is the sound of ( Read more... )

[The post begins with the rhythmic sound of someone chopping vegetables upon a wooden board.]

[A sigh.]

These onions . . . My eyes hurt already . . .

[Another soft exhale. The steady chopping resumes.]

[A few moments later, a yelp of pain is heard, followed by a hiss. The knife can be heard clattering onto the counter.]

Ow!