[In a hallway, somewhere between the southern wing and one of the neutral wings, there is a Kanda sitting on the ground, propped unceremoniously against a wall. Her coat is in tatters around her - oh boy, that's going to leave scars, Dressing Room or not - and she's absolutely covered in dried blood.]
[Her eyes are also open, as if staring at the
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[It's a lot like one of those moments when you're stuck between dreaming and waking. Paralyzed, but partially aware.]
[The next sign of movement is the faint way in which her eyes seem to fall into focus. Any moment now, any moment...]
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[Doesn't seem to mind that he's sitting in the worst of it either.]
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[Her fingers twitch again, as well as her eyes -- and all at once she sucks in a wet, gurgling sort of breath. Choking on old blood? Quite possibly.]
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He tries to walk around the worst of the bits of crusted blood and other stains on the wall and floor to kneel without knees touching the ground.
He rests a hand on her forehead and moves them to close her eyes.]
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[She's almost awake. Almost. There's more (very) faint movement in her fingers - brain telling the rest of the body to wake up and smell the roses.]
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Corpses were supposed to stay cold.
He steps over her body and frowns as shoes get caked in even more blood.]
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[It's followed by a sudden scream; not unlike some poor soul being tortured. As though all the pain of dying and coming back is catching up to the body all at once, Hi! Welcome back to the realm of the living, Yuu~]
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[At the moment, though, the only sign of any kind of life whatsoever is the faint twitch in her fingers. She'll be waking up any moment now, any moment.]
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[... and all at once she drags in a nasty, wet, and gurgling sort of breath. Choking on old blood? You bet.]
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[He's probably not paying attention to that, though, not with the blood everywhere.]
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[And all at once she's bringing in a wet and gurgling sort of breath. Choking on blood? Most likely. Kanda lurches forward, bringing up a nasty mix of blood and whatever else was accumulating in her lungs.]
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[It isn't unlike those times between dreaming and waking when one is paralyzed, but still partially aware.]
[Any moment now, Bookman, any moment now.]
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[All at once she leans forward, bringing up a nasty mix of blood and... whatever else was likely accumulating in her throat. Nasty. It's followed by a rather inhuman scream of pain - dying isn't painless, no matter what they say. And all the pain is catching up to her all at once.]
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