[she doesn't care that it's less safe for a woman alone at night. she has no weapons, no money - nothing that's an enticement, and wings ready to snap out and carry her away if she needs. where she wanders, she barely pays attention to, and she ends up leaning on the railing on a bridge, staring down into the dark waters of the Sanzu.
there's been something nagging, tugging at Emily's core for the past few days. even Hibiki can't quiet it, smother it with her name and an order. if her memory is so patchwork that she forgets entire people (or not, or sees them otherwise), then what else has she lost? who has she lost? and why, if one is blessed to forget, she can't forget the worst of it? these scars that never fade.
wisps of her hair have fallen from her bun, and she feels like she could scream, takes a big breath-
it won't come out. it's not allowed. it's only when she looks to the side and sees a familiar form coming nearer that her melancholy lifts slightly.]
september.
there's been something nagging, tugging at Emily's core for the past few days. even Hibiki can't quiet it, smother it with her name and an order. if her memory is so patchwork that she forgets entire people (or not, or sees them otherwise), then what else has she lost? who has she lost? and why, if one is blessed to forget, she can't forget the worst of it? these scars that never fade.
wisps of her hair have fallen from her bun, and she feels like she could scream, takes a big breath-
it won't come out. it's not allowed. it's only when she looks to the side and sees a familiar form coming nearer that her melancholy lifts slightly.]
Please tell me that's not your blood.