𝘚𝘛𝘌𝘗𝘗𝘐𝘕𝘎 𝘚𝘛𝘖𝘕𝘌.

          “ komaeda-san … sorry, i’m a little busy. “ busy, by her definition: absorption into pixelated canvases dotted with enemies of various colors. she looks so determined over something quite insignificant when compared to their situation. “ can i get to a save point first ? “

            ❛   Haha …   Y o u      c a u g h t      m e.   ❜

            The screen   distorts   as it flickers to life.   Her laughter skews with it,   spliced through with  STATIC,   a ghostly echo of something that was once   girlish,   something that used to be   HUMAN   ;   Junko Enoshima,   the girl,   the   ghost,   the   martyr. 

  ❛   Y’know,   senpai,   there’s this small little thing about being omnipresent… it’s   BORING.   Even when I’m dead,   I’m bored,   bored,   bored   out of my mind  !   IT   REALLY   IS   HOPELESS.   ❜

           Her smile is still the same   ;   it blooms across her features   pixel   by   MISERABLE   PIXEL

            ❛   Can I count on you to keep me on my toes  ?   You know how much   I   HATE   IT   when everything goes exactly as planned.   ❜

       AND ALL AT ONCE,   heaven   opens its   gaping maw.   there she was             she, who was more ravishing than anyone else  ;  she, who was more repulsive than anyone else             there she was, there she was, there she was, th— -   . . .     he places his right palm to his chest, scouring his jutting ribs for...   there.   erratic, like a bird BLUDGEONING itself against the bars of its cage:   a heartbeat.     he's almost surprised.

              ❛  you're relying on me?  ❜   the corners of his mouth, sallow as the rest of his thinning skin, curl upward.   lovingly, tenderly, as if she could truly touch her, he traces the pixelated outline of her jaw.   ❛  ah . . .  if that's the case, if you truly want this miserable RAT to entertain you . . .  then i shall.   for you, and only you, i will spread despair upon despair, enough so that a mighty hope, capable of ending this world, will shine.   ❜        HIS SMILE DROPS within an instant.   he leans closer to the screen, to her, and its dim light accents just how gaunt he's become.   if he were only to sit still, one would think him dead.   but that was just it, wasn't it?

 SICKLY , UNHEALTHY . a patient right out of a novel that was DOOMED to die !  —— came the first thought within her , until she recognizes the ‘ haunting ‘ figure that stood to compliment her prized possessions . he was one of the DESPAIR RIDDEN , the people who were puppets played by ENOSHIMA . distaste wiped her features && phalanges curled tighter ‘round the crafted slicers she’d obtained years ago . 

 ‘ I’M SUUURE the craftman would be HONORED by your compliment . juuust kidding !!! i’m afraid i can’t take compliments from you. ‘  THE WORDS came out in spite , venom licking at her tone as plum brows furrowed with a snide GRIN .

     she’s not nearly as calm in the face of a minor slip-up, worry manifested both in expression &posture. arms curl in towards body, form becoming small as the regret kicks in. “ i – i’m sorry. i wasn’t looking where i was going, & i just was running —- “

     apology slips reflexively from mouth before his assurance registers fully. a mental battle of accepting what has happened & letting regret swallow her whole over something so minuscule, she chastises herself for not listening once again. “ i …. can buy you a new one ? “ nervous titter, palm finding purchase against nape. “ i-it was my fault anyways, so it’s only fair, right ? “

       ❛ Fifty-two blue —- ? ❜ 

She hears nearly everything: the spaces between decaying whispers, energy itching to curl underneath her palms —- every subtle breath escaping from open throats praising the concurrence of holy fire in the form of echoed voices.  A medium she is, but a live wire to sound will keep her tethered between vacuums of anything human and celestial; scathing in all of its glory with a golden chain around her ankle.

 In but a moment, her footsteps have hesitated against the sidewalk —- precarious —- in attempt to find a quick and evanescing reading. Her shoulders are low, leaving a rosen mouth to press into a finer line against the steady hum of consistent feedback:  

      ❛ The name doesn’t ring a bell —- my apologies. Are you looking for someone? Something? ❜

❛          i see.  ❜      a sudden change in air: desolate, as if the ground they stood upon was GODFORSAKEN. he alone has this efficacy       he's something of a vacuum; he's something of a void.        ❛  how disappointing.  ❜      the coda  (  terse & cold  )   fractures the silence.    ❛  i overestimated you. to be frank, i expected better from someone as smart as yourself.  ❜      he folds his arms over his chest and reclines against the nearby wall, now avoiding eye contact. he instead looks to his shoes, eyeing the zippers he'd placed in lieu of laces. — an exhale. ❛  fifty-two blue is the name of an individual whale. it gets its name because it calls at the unusual frequency of fifty-two hertz.  ❜      he continues speaking as if he hadn't just insulted her.      ❛  because of the abnormality of its call, it can't communicate with other whales, leaving it to wander all by its lonesome.  ❜

          “ uhm —- “ nervous titter only just escapes the constriction of throat, timidity a horrid burden to bear. she flounders quite prominently, with arms waving faster than ever necessary. “ s-sorry,sorry ! i – “ & her sigh releases through clenched teeth. if only her movements were not so …awkward.