#helpfulhands

“ at this rate, i would half expect this to be your boundary compared to the bathrooms, “ the boy says softly, a feather-light step leading him further into the room. ingredients are scattered about to and fro, some spilled from a clearly obvious case of non-corporeality. “ i didn’t know that ghosts could get so hungry. if you had been craving something, i would have been happy to go out to the store to get something for you. “ he says it with full confidence in knowing that she would refuse it ( at first that is, whether or not a second or third prod would work depended on the day ), because ‘as one of the heralded wonders of kamome academy, she had to be able to fend for herself’. despite the strut in his gait, his motions are completely silent, as if the child known as amane yugi had never existed at all. 

rather ungracefully, however, is amane looking over hanako’s shoulder without any warning or request to do so in advance. what amenace, wouldn’t you say?

“ what are you making? “

    remnants of her death fade away; a hell she lives in, yet it offers a semblance of kindness in how a hell is never solitary. no, it is for every inhabitant, for each and every lost soul to view, to hear, to etch into already weary minds. and burn it into she does, as suffocating heat catches in her throat when she hears it: beeping. a mechanical, repetitive sound that is so eerily misplaced in a world of heavy silence. she follows the sound, the pounding of her head ceasing as the lost hero focuses on this one thing. 

   and then she sees him. she sees him, and feels frustrated. no, not frustrated. shocked, perhaps ? angry ? she isn’t sure ( because all she’s felt for so long is loneliness and mourning, and so detached is she that she can’t easily place a name to the clench in her chest upon seeing her dear upperclassman ). a mix of spiteful emotions churn in the pits of her stomach because why ? why is he here ? she glances to the left, to the right, sees the IVs hooked to this one, single gentle boy and she can’t help but utter his name, voice hoarse from lack of use.

    ❝ h... haruka-san... ? ❞

rp w/ me too