𝐕. ʜɪᴇʀᴏᴘʜᴀɴᴛ.

sure as the sun sets && the horrors of what singular hour lay betwixt the twelfth hour; he’s here after all. be it a blessing or curse the flow of time is indiscriminate as it was cruel ( she stops for no one ) imposing ‘pon others during their darkest. be that as it may, they’ve at least garnered enough experience with supernatural matters despite the others including herself still maintaining a steadfast adjustment.

they were quick learners, something she’s always been thankful for && with what surely remains in shrouded wait there was no being too careful regardless of the scenery. even if it was relieving as ever a sight to see. but even she of most imperious can sense this was a delicate moment, something she almost feels she’s imposing on if not for the lap of waves serving harsh reminder. for all seemingly imposing nature, those who knew him beyond the walls could tell he’s always worn his feelings on his sleeve like a patchwork heart embedded into the shredded seams of a sees armband.

they weren’t here to relax, that much is true. && while she’s certain this was merely one of many island eccentricities she can’t help but feel a sense of longing for the past that inevitably seeps into their soon-to-be future. a single step further, two && she’s stilled to a pause just some distance behind with a fold of arms. enough to stir the salt woven into sea-soaked sands as the last of another sunset fades into reminiscent pastels of more familiar days. although the circumstances aren’t exactly ideal there is a festering fondness in the ability to be 'together’ again. those of them who’ve somehow made it onto the island, that is.

❝ i’ve finally found you. when one of the passing elderly mentioned a broody-looking man who looked ready to cast himself out at sea, i came immediately. ❞

       THE PEACE AND QUIET was short-lived anyway before she got here, and it was only a matter of time before someone finds him anyway. better her than minako or akihiko right now--- he's not sure how much longer he can watch them lie to his face, and avoid whatever it is they’re trying to hide. it comes as both a small relief and a disappointment to him, her presence here. you too, huh, he thinks, before it melts away to a quiet acceptance. she's within reach of the others, and that's what matters. 

       he scoffs away the other's remark, angling his head aside just enough to refuse her eye contact. 

               “  why? were you gonna try save me?  ” he replies, a modicum of levity softening his tone, “  tough luck--- i don’t plan on walkin’ into the ocean any time soon.  ”

       he had other plans anyway; things to do, people to protect, and wrongs to make right.

If he looks up at Shinjiro without tipping his head, it probably looks like he’s glaring at him. That’s just how it’s going to be since he can’t get himself to quit staring: out of fondness, relief, worry, a mix of all three- who knew? 

A lot can be said in palatable silence, but the longer it holds, the more tempted he is to break it with a flurry of cheap shots. Verbal or physical in nature he hasn’t decided yet. He doesn’t get to decide though, for better or worse, since Shinjiro’s nice enough to veer conversation into oncoming traffic. 

Answer normally. Don’t overthink it. 

“Hinako’s mere.” 

Fuck. Whatever, play it off. 

“Haven’t found them yet but word is that a few more familiar faces are around.” 

               “  huh?  ” a faint hue of incredulity pierces his tone as shinji quirks a brow aside, but it ebbs away when akihiko seems to continue despite it.

       “ hinako ”? did he mean to say “ minako ”? well, whatever--- he shrugs it off and looks away. with a faint hope kindled that minako was indeed here as well as the others, the tension seems to fade from his expression slightly. the words are poised at his lips; take care of them, he wants to say, and absolve himself from their pursuits... but it isn’t that easy anymore. he owes himself to their mission--- to ken.

✩ “Catch.” She at least waited for him to look at her before tossing a plastic bag his way. One full of several dishes wrapped up in plastic and paper. Takeout she’d collected from a nearby Italian place. Lumine kept a second bag to herself.

“You were looking for something to eat, right? I ordered a little too much out of habit, and it’s better to give it to someone than waste it.” She’d observed him a little bit before coming to this conclusion. Spacing out and accidentally ordering for Paimon too was her mistake.

       NO SOONER HAD HE SPARED THE VOICE A GLANCE before something comes flying his way. he catches it, albeit awkwardly--- a bag, containing various meals prepared for take-out. studying it, shinji peers at the stranger skeptically. what’s the catch, he wants to ask, but refrains, and takes it at face value for once, though not without a passing remark first.

               “  ... that’s pretty observant of you.  ” he answers wryly, lowering the bag to his side.

       furrowing his brow, his eyes speak a wordless caution--- before he turns away, resuming pace along the sidewalk. after a moment, he withdraws the bottle, contemplating it aloft in his palm... before flicking back the cap and swallowing back its contents. that should do it for now.

The grip clasps upon her wrist like a shackle, detaining her to reality. Never ending gospel sings her requiem, chanting her shortened morality. Akihiko’s blessing burns her mind “GETTING TOO COMFORTABLE ANYWHERE IS ASKING FOR TROUBLE”. Minako tempted the hands of fate once, what will happen if she chooses to deny again?

“Shinjiro-Senpai,” her voice quivers, not out of fear, but hesitancy. Shinjiro carries enough on his broad shoulders. The blood of one, how could he bear another? She casts down her gaze, too nervous to lock eyes. Must she endure suffering as death idly waits by?

“If I tell you the truth, I’m worried you won’t be happy. If you knew, you’d blame yourself. It’s not your fault– none of this is your fault. You were kind, strong, brave, and you did what was right. What happened to me– it was fate.” Minako lifts up her arm, bringing his hand with her wrist. She cups her hand over his, her thumb caressing his knuckles.

“But if I tell you… you have to promise me you won’t blame yourself. You promise me we will go eat or cook or tell ghost stories, just like we used too. That’s all I want; I want everything to be normal. I want to be stuck here with you, Akihiko-Senpai and Mitsuru-Senpai. Shinjiro-Senpai, if I tell you, you promise me that will we make thousands of happy memories together so we can keep moving forward. Promise me, please.”

       HER VOICE WAVERS AGAIN, disarming him; great--- he’s dug up a memory she’d rather forget for the sake of his own curiosity. that was selfish, and no matter her answer, it won’t be of her own volition anyway. forget it, he wants to say, parting his lips... only to choke back his words when she continues. his fingers twitch within hers, and shinji lowers his gaze to their hands intertwined. her touch feathers tenderly over his knuckles, abating his grasp on her wrist. it wanes, yet lingers despite itself. it’s not as though he’s particularly worried that she’ll run off, or disappear without explanation, but even so, something keeps him holding on.

       nonetheless, in solemn silence he listens, the surprise ebbing from his expression. he can’t help but wonder why she cares so much? why bother with someone so hopeless? but then again, she has a knack for concerning herself where it isn’t necessary. it’s not your fault, she tells him, none of this is your fault--- as if he doesn’t already blame himself. though it’s uncertain what exactly she refers to, it already feels like his mistake to own. there are some gaps here, and she’s offering to fill them in, but... it doesn’t feel right.

       upon her mention of the others, his thoughts are briefly swayed... only to knit his brow at the way she pleads for his promise, whatever that will mean to her. he wants to give it to her, but at what cost? better to put it on his ledger than hers, for she’s actually got something to lose.

               “  ... idiot.  ” shinji reprimands her gently, the colour rising to his cheeks--- what a weird thing to say all of a sudden, “  if you don’t wanna tell me, just say it.  ”

       finally, he returns his hand to his pocket.

       with the added weight of minako’s tears and aki’s disappointment on his mind, shinjiro finds no will to move, standing still upon the shore. the tide barely reaches the toes of his boots, he notes idly with a glance, before it recedes back into the sea. he’d like to feel it, just once, but maybe one day, when he’s finished here.

The confusion dressed on his face warns Minako of the misaligned memories. Tragedy wracks her mind, and she falls into the void of remorse and anger. Yet, he’s separated from her, safe from the horror he endured. She gazes up into his eyes, half-wishing he shared her sentiment– yet, if he does not remember, then it’s for the better. 

Minako quickly pulls her arms away, her delicate hands wiping at the tears the pour down her cheeks. Through hiccups and sniffles, Minako tries to hold back. However, how could she not cry for him? She wept thousands of tears in her bedroom after the incident, hugging onto her pillow, and begging for whatever deity that led him into harm to bring him back out. Minako reserved her tears for the privacy of her room, fearful to let the rest of the S.E.E.S. members down. 

“N-no,” Minako whimpers, ignoring the fallen tears that she desperately wipes away. “I’ve got big rocks in my eyes, that’s all,” Minako lies through her teeth. She won’t remind him of the pain; she only wishes for him to smile, and remember the happier times. Minako only wishes she could too. Even if she’s cursed to remember, she recalls Shinjiro’s words: people can go on if they have good memories. Minako lifts up her chin, smiling up at him

“See? No tears!” Despite her proclamation, her fears remain. She pinches his jacket with her fingers, her relentless grip gently pulling. How much does he remember? How long have they’ve known each other? It took a month for him to open up to her, to share each other’s lives. Feeling embarrassed, Minako loosens her grip. “Y'know… there’s some great restaurants here, not at fancy either. Maybe you can learn a few new recipes from them…. if you want. I’ve been waiting forever to try your food again. C’mon, let’s go, Shinji–… Shinjiro-Senpai.” 

The hesitancy in her voice stems from her fear of Shinjiro’s memory. She desires to return to the way they were prior to the symphony of hell that orchestrated her demise. “And I won’t take no for an answer, mister!”

       THE MANNER OF WHICH SHE DENIES HER TEARS only unsettles him further. she was never a very good liar, almost too sincere for her own good sometimes--- it was... endearing. maybe that’s what he liked about her, not that he’d ever say it aloud. however, even the smallest glimpse beyond her smile was enough to dampen what little spirits he had left. something’s wrong, and he doesn’t know how to broach it. no matter how much she tried to bury it beneath the surface, it’s what’s left unsaid, the words not yet given voice, that weigh heavily in the air between them--- and they shout the loudest.

                       what the hell aren’t you telling me...?

       his expression curdles; despite her best attempts to brush aside the truth of her feelings, shinjiro resists. when her grip fades, he catches her wrist in his own, without urgency nor force. perhaps he ought to leave it be, for everyone’s sake, but how is he supposed to just pretend that didn’t happen? why does he care so damn much anyway? this is giving him a headache, but he pursues that thread nonetheless.

               “  hey.  ” his fingers close around her wrist gently, “  cut the crap--- you wanna tell me what’s goin’ on?  ”