when i imagine myself , i am always leaving

止む得ない : 18+ , independent , HEADCANON - FOCUSED , plot - driven , mutuals - only roleplay blog dedicated to the scathing deadpan of SAKAZUKI HISHIMA of squeenix's NEO : THE WORLD ENDS WITH YOU . as judged by MOJAVE . ( 28 , they / them )

@kokorose : "i tried to get a message out to you." PICK UP YOUR PHOOOOOOOOOOOONE HISHIMA

" i wasn't aware , " hishima counters, his voice bland, maintaining the mask of seemingly imperturbable composure even in the wake of ume's naked shock . gently lifting a gloved hand , hishima turns the screen of his phone to face his conductor ---  the unread number beside the messaging app icon is staggering , a graveyard of neglected communications buried in the device . " NEVERTHELESS , ” he adds , “ when your usual punctuality failed , i began to suspect there was reason for your delay . "

in ume's absence , hishima had meandered between lumine 2's shops in an accustomed solitude , looking often but buying little , & after two hours has only a small bag embossed with pavo real's strong serifs to show for it . 

a small shrug graces his narrow shoulders as he stashes away his phone once more , MESSAGES DAMNED TO GO UNREAD . " if it were dire , i expected you would send a warbler . "

@the-composer : "You look fun." He's all unctuous smiles as he sidles up to his new target, looking him up and down. "You belong to the Shinjuku flock, right?" Joshua had only paid minimal attention to the Reapers, so it makes sense he would have overlooked him initially. "Who are you?"

the intruding voice breaks the still face of hishima's thoughts . perched at this remote zenith , the recursive loop of an exterior staircase hung above udagawa's knotted snare of roads & telephone wires , THERE EXISTS NO SUCH THING AS A CHANCE MEETING : he has sought hishima out with a purpose . 

there is no sharp gasp , nor snap-like pivot towards him --- deliberately , hishima straightens & rotates to face the stranger fully , like a stone monolith pivoting about its axis with earth-scraping slowness . " has my reputation spread even among the shibuyan natives ? " he asks evenly , schooling his features into an impassive mask with ease. " I AM HISHIMA SAKAZUKI . & you ... "

now it's hishima who looks with scrutiny , extended gaze scanning over his unassuming figure , finding no trace of malice except for the cloying way his mouth sinks around fun --- but hishima had been quick to learn of the outward antagonism present among the shibuyan reapers , the cat-like pawing at their mark until they can wring no more amusement from it . it's a sentiment that has ceased to trigger his guard .

" ... are unfamiliar to me , " comes his judgement , given flat . " WHO MIGHT YOU BE ? "

@psychreaped : they didn't tell you?

" they may have . i haven't made a habit of checking , " hishima confesses , steering his gaze towards the static-filled sky projected outside the cafe window , over the horizon of a plain porcelain cup . his voice , an amalgam of disinterest & hardened reticence , ricochets off the canvas-lined walls hemming them in wildkat — A STARK , NUMBED ECHO AGAINST THE RICH COLOURS OF THE INTERIOR . " i'm afraid you've sought the wrong reaper for counsel . the fate of the city is of little consequence to me now - your breath is better spent on kaie or susukichi . "

his cup rattles a nonsense melody against the polished countertop , half untasted . there dwells his sombre knowledge that the destruction of shibuya is an event earmarked in hours , not days ; there persists his detached musings of shiba's next prospective target following the obliteration of this city , WHETHER THIS GAME WILL CONTINUE , or if his puppeteers will tire of him once shibuya is reduced to dust . hishima expertly shifts from his perch on the bar stool & directs himself silently towards the solitude of the exit . 

" naively hopeful they remain ; they yet harbour belief that there are words potent enough to reach him . "

@memoreaped : funny. i don't remember falling asleep.

for a fleeting second , HISHIMA STRUGGLES TO COMPREHEND WHY THE TEEN'S APPEARANCE RINGS A BELL ; & is equally puzzled about why someone who looks as though he's just passed his entrance exams ( or not passed , if he were to take an honest measure ) should regard him with such profound perplexity . his recollections of those intense three weeks in shibuya - & those involved within - swiftly receded behind the inviting challenge of restoring shinjuku , & take a moment to be trawled from their depths .

" an astute observation . you did not , indeed , "  once the recognition is drawn , hishima steels his focus on fret with a subtle rise of his chin & a severity that sharpens the edges of his indifferent exterior . " a lack of memory around the events leading to your entry isn't unusual . was that also not the case the last time you played ? I SUPPOSE IT MATTERS NOT . " 

he delves into the depth of his pocket with stone-faced tenacity , retrieving a mysterious object : revealed in his palm as a black pin gleaming ominously under the city's overcast sun . adorning it is a red , dual-spiked emblem . with an air of formal stoicism , he extends it toward him . " once more unto the chthonic breach , furesawa tosai . WELCOME BACK TO THE REAPER'S GAME . "

… the trace of a SMILE , barely perceptible , etches itself momentarily upon his face . " no , i'm merely pulling your leg . "

@hackereaped : I always lived in my head

in the fragrant confines of kaie's shop , nested in incense & old books , THERE IS BALMY SPRING SUNLIGHT - not through the windows , but spilling outwards from the soft-spoken girl before him . hishima takes in her warmth & words alike with his typical unaffectedness , his emotionless facade perched on one of kaie's weathered velvet wing chairs running counter to the SUBTLE DIP OF HIS SHOULDERS at such unfiltered genuinity . she couldn't sour his mood more than whatever kaie deemed important enough to message him about , repeatedly , until even hishima could not ignore the rising notification count , & so the distraction is a welcomed one .

" i see . " he intones with a deliberateness that seems to ponder her even after his acknowledgement . " solitude is a familiar sanctuary . "

perhaps he'll allow himself to linger here a while , in this brief refuge amid the relentless waves of self-aggrandisement & deceptions that mark SHINJUKU & SHIBUYA'S SHARED SWAN-SONG .

@gamereaped : “It was not your decision to make. My life is my own.” / shiba

in their grand meeting place , chandeliers loom high above , crystal-encased flames bathing the daunting backdrop of gilded ebony tables & velvety burgundy drapes in an ethereal , milky glow . amidst this opulence , every utterance dripped from shiba's lips rings with an INSINCERE METALLIC TWANG that claws at the threads of hishima's rapidly fraying patience .

" does thirst for power outweigh your duty so much now , shiba ? " he retorts with terrifying calmness – a storm well-veiled behind ironclad composure . his tone is acrid as caffeine , impassionate as the frozen tundra whistling through the drapes that surround them . " understand that your existence is intrinsically tied to shinjuku’s welfare . SACRIFICING ONE IS AKIN TO MURDERING THE OTHER . "

@krillcount : "there’s no secret remorse there. i simply don’t have it in me." tsuki wakes up and chooses violence every single day

her voice is scarcely more than a murmur echoed in the cavernous tunnel , swallowed by the constant drone of water rushing somewhere unseen . hishima scrutinises her outlined form from his spot on the steep concrete apron of the river's channel , attempting to discern IF THE WORDS ARE INTENDED FOR HIM , a six-metre chasm between them that seems indelibly etched into his psyche — as though the measured physical separation can salvage their RAPIDLY DETERIORIATING emotional divide . 

the steel in her voice triggers a prickling discomfort that ascends his backbone , his teeth grinding against the acid drop of a REALITY CHECK that forms a hard edge against her radiant resolve . it's a sentiment he feels had been plucked directly from his past , parroted far in the future by the peculiar properties of the shibuya river .

" a grudge against Them isn't unique to you , " he retorts , words steeped in palpable cynicism . " & your erasure at Their hands won't be unique , either . "