â  âââ  Weather  sat  there  in  stillness  taking  in  what  his  cellmate  had  just  attempted  to  make  sense  of.  It  unfortunately  was  something  himself  couldnât  advise  on  or  even  begin  to  figure  out  how  to  help  with.  He  didnât  even  have  any  of  his  own  memories  from  before  a  certain  point.  Maybeâ  if  he  did,  he  could  find  some  instance  in  his  past  he  could  use  to  relate  to.  Yet,  no  matter  how  many  countless  nights  laying  awaking  trying  to  bring  back  a  figment  of  anything  was  met  with  pitch  blackness.  A  void.  It  internally  frustrated  him,  but  this  wasnât  about  him,  this  was  about  Anasui.
            The  somber  expression  on  his  face  and  the  way  he  folded  over  like  a  child   told  him  everything  he  needed.  He  wasâ  no  is  a  lost  soul  in  need  of  affection  and  assurance.  That  inner  child  needed  to  be  told  heâs  loved  and  that  his  fascination  with  disassembling  was  (  in  a  way  to  him  at  least  )  his  venture  to  fix  it  back  up.  Anasui  is  looking  for  love  in  the  wrong  places  in  order  to  fix  his  disassembled  heart.  That  is  what  he  came  to  in  his  conclusion. Â
            â  Anasui  â  â  Weather  hesitated  for  a  few  seconds,  searching  for  the  right  words,  but  the  simple  ones  were  the  best,  â  Youâre  not  broken.  â
       when you went through your life believing a certain thing, it was difficult to grow out of it as an adult. & even more, when everyone around him validated his own beliefsâthose of not being normal, of missing something, of having a âloose screwâ, or several, as many of his peers referred to. it was engrained in his mind as a permanent part of him. the only thing fixed in his life, as he heard it even in his adulthood. anasui never felt insulted by it, because even he recognized it as a fact, but rather, was left hopeless about the future. would this follow him like a permanent cloud above his head? grey skies & rain pouring down with such force that they might as well be bullets piercing his skin. it was a constant feelingâto always feel under the weather, metaphorically & literally in this instance, as he felt weather report hover too close for comfort for anyone, but the inmate. both of them lacking this concept of personal space, it seemed.
    his head is raised, but only enough to peer up from behind folded arms. his stare is fixed on the other to take in every subtle change in his expression as he spoke. on the surface, it may seem as if there was none, but to anasui, someone who spent a dangerous amount with his cellmate even outside of this room, even the tiniest of wrinkle was noticed.
     â...â at first, he doesnât respond. teeth biting down on the remark that he was about to say, not because he was one to hold back & not speak his mind, but because there was no need in the aggressive tone that threatened to escape his lips. anasui looks up, then to the side. head sinking further between his shoulders with a sigh. âi get what youâre trying to do, but are you the right person to say so?â a momentâs silence follow, only lasting a couple of seconds before anasui added, now going back to staring at the man. âwould you not say youâre also broken for being unable to remember?â
