#purifyingritual

The same dream, the same place, the same woman. Was it even right to call it a dream? Master had suggested nightmares as a better term, but it’s not like it only happened at night...Humans were so arbitrary. Scratching idly at the red paint with a nail, Nikkari let out a deep sigh. He lifted his elbow off the bridge’s railing and stretched himself out in an almost feline manner before rubbing his eyes. A serious drawback to physical bodies: the necessity of rest. Despite that, he now half-wished he’d taken up the offer to be put on the sortie team earlier simply because it would kill his boredom; but, alas, it was too late to change anything.

Leaning on the wooden railing with his arms crossed, he gazed at his own reflection in the water. A stray leaf had fallen into his hair without him noticing. The wakizashi stood upright and lifted a hand to remove it, only to graze against another hand that was already brushing it off.