#fakematou

“Ah-!” She’s turned on him! Curse this sudden but inevitable betrayal.

stares at curiously... leaves one (1) whole apple pie near...

“Sakura-chan!” It’s him, of course, now that he’s gathered the strength to commandeer his own body. He runs to meet her, though the staggered jog can’t really be called ‘running’. Either way, she’s met with a firm embrace, bony arms and all the care in his body around her shoulders.

Kariya leans into her, because she’s his family, and family is supposed to feel cared about. (In the end, one of the last people he could smile for.) 

    “... Do I?” He sighed, his gaze trailing off, to avert meeting hers. He was afraid of facing her, afraid of speaking to her, afraid of accepting his own failure. Shouldn’t he be happy, being able to meet his friend again, but...

    ( If he had accepted her back then, if he had taken her hand,       where would they be right now? )

     But this girl was not the Sakura he used to know, and he was not the Senpai she loved. Eventually he turned back to her, now a weak, albeit gentle smile on his face. “You know, you shouldn’t call me like that, I am not the Shirou you know after all.” Because the Sakura he knew was dead.

various starters

meme|accepting

@fakematou

Something is wrong with him. It must be. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen this girl, no, he couldn’t have, and yet... and yet something about her face makes him want to scream, folded into himself on the floor sobbing. An apology? For what?

Koschei locked his humanity away with the vessel’s death, all this living man’s memories buried deep, locked and drowned where they shouldn’t bother him again.

And yet, every heartbeat and shuddering breath he takes is now: save her save her savehersavehersavehersavehersavehersavehersaveher

He doesn’t know who she is, and yet Koschei is filled with the profound heartbreaking certainty that he has horribly, horribly failed her. Something squirms in his guts and the taste of blood wells up in the back of his throat. The failings of this vessel. Everything should be purged, and yet phantom pains remain. Parasitic. (And him, and him, he has to save her, he has to--)

Koschei looks at her, the stunned, lost expression of someone seconds from bursting into tears. “Do--” his voice breaks, cutting off. Inhale, try again. His hands are shaking. “Have we met before...?”