21st Memory [Future-dated to Saturday Morning][Voice/Possible Action]
[It was the usual day-forgetting something, needing an ear on the matter, and then calling someone. It was when she would typically call someone like Raine, or Ginko. And when she called the Mushi-shi, it fell through.
...
It fell through?
No, that's not right. That wouldn't happen. She must've just... done something wrong.
But then it continues to not ( Read more... )
...
It fell through?
No, that's not right. That wouldn't happen. She must've just... done something wrong.
But then it continues to not ( Read more... )
Comments 130
Ah. Just like that, both of her dads have gone home and left her. Probably forever.
It's his voice that rings in her ears, from a long ago conversation.
You are alive. And loved.
Such a level of devastation is beyond that which can summon up tears. She has nothing left to give. Nothing, not at all. Instead of crying she speaks, and she'd surprise herself if she was capable of feeling any emotion at all. ]
Who are you?
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[It takes a few minutes. Some silence on her end. But she feels like... it's her job, to do this, even if it's slowly sapping her of willpower.]
I am-I'm from Ginko's world.
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[ There is an eerily blank quality to her voice, like what she's saying doesn't matter to her. ]
Did you know he made me cry? Twice. But he gave really good hugs.
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What's your name?
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That's why Miyabi feels almost relieved by the news. She wishes, though, that they could have spoken of eachother's worlds, and stories. Their differing Nippons...she wished Ginko could have learned about her gods, and about Amaterasu. So many untold stories...]
...Thank you for telling us. [She looks out at the sakura tree looming overhead. Even in black and white...the tree looked blacker today. The forest must be sad, too.] I think he'll be missed by more than just people.
[Missed, but not forgotten.]
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[He didn't known Ginko well. But he knows the voice. Knows the hurt. He can try to provide for the ones left behind, at least.]
...do you, um, d-do you need anything?
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...this, um, this isn't something anyone should be alone for.
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She grips the journal, biting her lip.]
... Give me some time. I need time to think.
[And then I'll try to continue everything normally again.]
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[He pauses. Even though he doesn't know this woman, that sob makes his chest constrict with sympathetic sorrow.]
... will you be all right?
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...
But I'll try to be.
[for him
and for those still here.]
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Empathy.
For a moment, somewhere, a connection clicks into place and he lingers on the message. Then the moment passes -- a frown, some forced anger (because he's supposed to be angry?), and hastily, he turns the page before it can sink in too deeply.]
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