#kaneki01

Naki found the highest point in the junkyard he could. Even if his bearings were lost, even if his memories were a mess, there was a single thread of blood that kept him going. He had to follow it, even if it made his eyelids dark, his eyes raw, and stained the suit Yamori gave him. That was right.

“Yamori.” 

  The start of the thread. His fault for getting captured. He sat in the dark and screamed his boss’s name for strength so many times, but not enough. He was sitting cross legged, and his shoulders hitched suddenly. The first uncontrollable sob, he tried to wipe it away with clumsy fingertips, because he felt if he started crying now, he would never stop, and he still had so many more to get through.

“Udo. Kumaji. Soratou.” His fault again, he didn’t remember to take out the Ukaku types first. When Miza yelled at him, three wee already on the ground, shards jammed into their bodies. Naki wasn’t smart but even he could realize that they had fallen in front of him, and the trajectory they would have taken had that not happened.

“Chuu. Hajihei.” 

  They wabaanged when they should have bashoomed. If only he could have planned more carefully.

“Notta. Hamo. Noru-noma.” 

  When they were all caught in a traffic jam in a halway, because ten of them got overexcited and they all wanted to beat up the three doves that were shooting at them, three immediately folded in front of Naki and soaked up the RC bullets like sponges. 

“Gagi. Guge.” 

  The two of them lying down in front of him. He begged them not to go. 

“Why do you all keep going somewhere I can’t follow? Why always for me? I’m not my big bro, I’m just his underling.”

From afar Naki could hear, an unintentional listener to this whole scene disturb the silence of the moment, shattering it like glass. Because the moment Naki gave a cursory glance out of curiousity, all of his grief burned into rage in an instant. The tears in his eyes may as well have evaporated into steam. He stared full force ahead, eyes bloodshet, glowing a harsh red in the dark as every vein in his forehead threatened to pop from his skin.

PROPHECY 01: 2/2.

     EREN’S becoming is still fresh in his mind, raw like the soul he thinks would slide between each row of teeth. All he knows is that it went from a possibility to a must, transition abrupt and almost violent. It’s not a game of when and where anymore; those witches have upped the ante. He can’t hesitate if an opportunity presents itself. 

     Oh, and present itself, it does. 

     The scent is unbearably distinct -- his memory of the prophecy’s initial half still ringing clear. Hunched over a wounded, open corpse in the empty fields is a boy with silver hair. Winds tear at his will, prompting him to turn around and run. He can only assume that the other’s motivation is just as persuasive as his own, and conclude that their circumstances are similar enough to make a move. 

     With half of a breath stuck in the chasm of his throat, Eren closes one hand and winds it up. The wound on the inside of his hand has yet to recover completely, wrapped with a makeshift bandage and scarring somewhere below. Presenting his wrist before him (though just barely), body language a subtle offer, Eren furrows his brow and tries to get a closer look. It doesn’t seem like he’ll stop without warning, so he may as well speak up and grab his attention properly.

She frequented this electronics store quite often, her face and name being well-known to just about every employee in the place. As a result, she was also familiar with the products, and when she saw the guy beside her pick something up from the rack, she ended up blurting something out.

“I wouldn’t--” she started, only to clamp her mouth shut, regretting talking at all. Why was she tossing out random remarks to strangers anyway?

...God, she was so socially stupid sometimes. The sentence was already halfway out, she might as well continue.

“I wouldn’t...get those,” she mumbled, tilting her head towards the headphones’ box. “The sound quality’s awful, and the plastic’s cheaply made...”