If it could be like this... just like this, forever... then that would be alright. Wouldn't it?
Her skirts ruffled in the breeze as she watched them from the front door-- Misha and Higuchi Kotarou. Her two dearest-- only-- friends. They were rushing, fussing and laughing, as they hurried to class, the obento that she had made for them held tight in their hands.
Something squeezed in Shia's chest.
This would be enough.
Even though he wasn't there by her side then, the black cat that had become her shadow, trailing her everywhere during her travels on earth, she could still hear his voice scolding her-- her black-hearted conscience, trying to keep her from getting too involved, from getting too close to them. But Shia was beginning to realize that it was foolish to even think that she could keep her distance from them. Those days were heaven; cleaning after the angel that, for reasons even Shia was unsure of, cared for her as if she were family, cooking for Higuchi-san and his friends, laughing, belonging, being. They were a very strange family-- scattered and then united, all confused and lost, searching for something, and none of them were quite sure what. Higuchi-san was the key to her own... but what good was a key if one wasn't even sure what the lock was shaped like? Or what it was locking away?
She blinked, starting out of her thoughts. A lock...? What a strange thing to think of. What could possibly be locked away from-- a sudden pang of throbbing pain shot from her head down to the soles of her feet, and she whimpered, sagging against the rail. For a moment, she was almost winded by it, her lungs raw and empty-- and then it was gone, just that quickly. It was as if she'd brushed over a bare nerve ending. She collected herself, slowly, carefully, and made her way back into the relative safety of her shared apartment, closing the door behind her. She pressed her back to the door, her hand to her chest; and, for a moment, the weakness of her own body frightened her.
She was running out of time. But what if she didn't want to find it after all? Would it take her away from them?
She put it out of her mind. After all, she had dishes to do.
Shia | Pita-Ten | Not reserved
If it could be like this... just like this, forever... then that would be alright. Wouldn't it?
Her skirts ruffled in the breeze as she watched them from the front door-- Misha and Higuchi Kotarou. Her two dearest-- only-- friends. They were rushing, fussing and laughing, as they hurried to class, the obento that she had made for them held tight in their hands.
Something squeezed in Shia's chest.
This would be enough.
Even though he wasn't there by her side then, the black cat that had become her shadow, trailing her everywhere during her travels on earth, she could still hear his voice scolding her-- her black-hearted conscience, trying to keep her from getting too involved, from getting too close to them. But Shia was beginning to realize that it was foolish to even think that she could keep her distance from them. Those days were heaven; cleaning after the angel that, for reasons even Shia was unsure of, cared for her as if she were family, cooking for Higuchi-san and his friends, laughing, belonging, being. They were a very strange family-- scattered and then united, all confused and lost, searching for something, and none of them were quite sure what. Higuchi-san was the key to her own... but what good was a key if one wasn't even sure what the lock was shaped like? Or what it was locking away?
She blinked, starting out of her thoughts. A lock...? What a strange thing to think of. What could possibly be locked away from-- a sudden pang of throbbing pain shot from her head down to the soles of her feet, and she whimpered, sagging against the rail. For a moment, she was almost winded by it, her lungs raw and empty-- and then it was gone, just that quickly. It was as if she'd brushed over a bare nerve ending. She collected herself, slowly, carefully, and made her way back into the relative safety of her shared apartment, closing the door behind her. She pressed her back to the door, her hand to her chest; and, for a moment, the weakness of her own body frightened her.
She was running out of time. But what if she didn't want to find it after all? Would it take her away from them?
She put it out of her mind. After all, she had dishes to do.