Mel might kill me :'D
Technocracy AU
Drabble. 387 words.
Mostly Kirihara.
"Where's Kirihara?" Niou asked. They were supposed to be en route to pick up Alice. Or what was left of Alice anyway, if that message was to be trusted.
Yuuta shrugged. "He said he had something to do, and he'll catch up."
Hiyoshi scratched the back of his head, looking a little irritated. "You guys-- really," he said with an exasperated sigh. "He went to that place. It's been a year since.. you know. That happened." He was surprised that Kirihara remembered, actually. Hiyoshi thought Kirihara would have forgotten by now. He tried so hard to make him forget about... Hiyoshi sighed again. "Stubborn ass," he muttered under his breath.
"We need to go," Niou said. If Kirihara said he would catch up, then he would catch up. For now, they would let him pay his respects to the dead.
--
Kirihara found himself standing by the tree he stood by almost a year ago, during the funeral. He thumbed the ring on his finger-- He wanted you to have it. To help you Focus, he said. --and it felt heavy and cold. His chest felt tight. A year ago, no one let him near his grave. They blamed him. Who wouldn't blame him? Kirihara was there. He could have saved him. He could have--Just go! I can handle them! You need to survive, Kirihara. Go!--but he felt so helpless.
Kirihara took a deep breath and put one foot forward, and then the other, and then the other, until he found himself in front of his grave. There were already bouquets of flowers and lit incense all over it. Kirihara had half the mind to destroy them, looking at his own offering (two stalks of higanbana, the reddest he could find), but he was sure he wouldn't like it.
Kneeling in front of the grave marker, Kirihara placed down the flowers in front of it, moving the others aside-- they weren't worthy of his attention anyway. The hand wearing the ring moved over the marker, fingers tracing the characters that spelled out his name. He closed his eyes and pursed his lips and tried to stop the memory from coming--stop stop stop stop stopstopstopstopstopSTOP.
"I'm sorry," Kirihara whispered, voice coarse as a sob threatened to come out. Last year, he promised not to cry, and he was breaking the promise today. "I'm so sorry, Sengoku-san."
I'm so sorry ;A;
Drabble. 387 words.
Mostly Kirihara.
"Where's Kirihara?" Niou asked. They were supposed to be en route to pick up Alice. Or what was left of Alice anyway, if that message was to be trusted.
Yuuta shrugged. "He said he had something to do, and he'll catch up."
Hiyoshi scratched the back of his head, looking a little irritated. "You guys-- really," he said with an exasperated sigh. "He went to that place. It's been a year since.. you know. That happened." He was surprised that Kirihara remembered, actually. Hiyoshi thought Kirihara would have forgotten by now. He tried so hard to make him forget about... Hiyoshi sighed again. "Stubborn ass," he muttered under his breath.
"We need to go," Niou said. If Kirihara said he would catch up, then he would catch up. For now, they would let him pay his respects to the dead.
--
Kirihara found himself standing by the tree he stood by almost a year ago, during the funeral. He thumbed the ring on his finger-- He wanted you to have it. To help you Focus, he said. --and it felt heavy and cold. His chest felt tight. A year ago, no one let him near his grave. They blamed him. Who wouldn't blame him? Kirihara was there. He could have saved him. He could have--Just go! I can handle them! You need to survive, Kirihara. Go!--but he felt so helpless.
Kirihara took a deep breath and put one foot forward, and then the other, and then the other, until he found himself in front of his grave. There were already bouquets of flowers and lit incense all over it. Kirihara had half the mind to destroy them, looking at his own offering (two stalks of higanbana, the reddest he could find), but he was sure he wouldn't like it.
Kneeling in front of the grave marker, Kirihara placed down the flowers in front of it, moving the others aside-- they weren't worthy of his attention anyway. The hand wearing the ring moved over the marker, fingers tracing the characters that spelled out his name. He closed his eyes and pursed his lips and tried to stop the memory from coming--stop stop stop stop stopstopstopstopstopSTOP.
"I'm sorry," Kirihara whispered, voice coarse as a sob threatened to come out. Last year, he promised not to cry, and he was breaking the promise today. "I'm so sorry, Sengoku-san."
I'm so sorry ;A;