Remaining Mind

Past experiences help shape who we are currently, how we see the world. Send in a symbol and I’ll write a drabble of one of my muse’s memories. 

–

❥ - a childhood memory

♣ - a fading memory

✂ - a vivid memory

✖ - a repressed memory

✈ - an eye-opening memory

✤ - a memory that involves romance/love

☤ - a memory of death/loss

✍ - a memory of their mother

☽ - a memory of their father

♘ - a memory of their sibling(s)

✌ - a memory of a relative

↕ - a memory that may or may not have happened

♚ - a memory of something paranormal

✓ - a sexual memory

She lowers her arm and releases the handle of the blade, straightening up just as the dim light rolls past. “Oh, I’m sorry!” Mei exclaims after a moment to the faint silhouette in the darkness. The girl was just about to brush past him, continuing onwards before she realizes—she’d dropped the map in the jump scare (and at this time of night, it’d be impossible to find that scrap of paper; among the gravel paths filled with weeds and stones, how was she supposed to find a tiny map no bigger than her palm?)

Shifting in his spot, Kiku returned the weapon back into the shade that hid from the light. He continued to observe the other, noting every minute action and mannerism. Since he was called into attention, he needed to make sure that his focus was singular so that the night can close properly with him in bed by the end.

“No, look, I know we probably didn’t start off on the right foot last time, so I just wanted to say that if you never need anything just…” 

He becomes very easily distracted and trails off in the middle of this sentence,  wondering why Kiku’s eyes were shifting so suddenly, it wasn’t a normal thing to do, or so he told himself. Once his eyes follow to where the other kept glancing at, immediately forgetting about what he was going to say in the first place.

As much as he wanted to, Kiku could barely shift an inch, as if he had been shut down from his own motor controls. Ever since he arrived, he finally found a place where he could calm that horrid primal instinct. The very thought embarrassed him; he never really did like acting without thought, and it was only now that he realized the hostility that grew upon him. First impressions were thrown away, here is his second. Maybe his gut feeling was right, and so he drew a breath and complied to stillness.

Eventually, Kiku found his voice again.

Alfred perfectly earned a grimace.

The room in which he found himself in was completely barren of any personal belongings, as if it was never occupied in the first place. All the furniture was in its original place, many things were untouched, and the only things to grace such a room was its owner, the "intruder”, a small bag in the corner, and a bloodied sword lain across a towel on the floor.

He was in a cabin without a partner, most likely, like most of the community. A quick peek at the cabin list was the solution to finding this mysterious Kiku Honda, the man he’d awkwardly met some time ago and was procrastinating in getting him what he had asked for before his last run. 

The cloth was gray, though it was new, Alfred had found an unused set of four micro fiber clothes and was now bringing them to Kiku per request.

After a couple of days of holding on to the cloth, he finally sought the courage to face him once again. More than anything, though, it was curiosity on what he was using a microfiber cloth for, It really wasn’t like people cleaned much, at least he didn’t. 

He was not exactly surprised (since he did request for such an item), though being in denial was an easy catch for his part. At least Kiku would be able to get his hands on the cloth; he had been pondering over the thing for quite a while.

“Please leave it by the door,” he replied, merely shifting in his spot without much of a change. The tone of his voice remained reserved just like last time, regardless of the slightly higher volume.

“Cabin Eighteen,” she muses, looking at the slightly rumpled paper in her hand as her feet crunch along the gravel-lined paths. “Wonder where that is?”

Her steps lead her along rows of small, compact cabins and a few larger buildings, the occasional lamp lighting the night streets and warning away the dark. They remind her of the bright city lights (and for a moment, sepia memory and monochrome sight flashes over the rustic settlement—and hell, it hurts, and not the head.) Mei admits she misses home, as far as it may be in both time and distance.

Shuffling along the shadows of the cabins, he figured it would be about time to head back from his nightly scavenging. Having been so focused in the usual ticking of his cerebral gears, Kiku mindlessly found himself stumbling into an unknown being. Catching his footwork, he instinctively leaned to the side and jerked back, a blade drawn out and dangerously close to the instigator before he would have to think.

Bold which hobbies your muse has.