S E I J I
The shadow crossing her features is unmistakable. He cannot name it precisely — sorrow? guilt? shame? or something else? — but he understands it. Seiji's expression cools as regret pools in his stomach. He should not have asked. A cruel question. An overly familiar question. He had simply been excited.... but that is no excuse. He wants to comfort, but can think of no words for it. So he allows the silence to rest, his eyes focused on her and full of soft concern. Maybe he is lucky, to remember nothing. To feel no guilt. No terror. Only hope and a burgeoning determination.
It must have been a dark place she came from. Of course — to make her so fierce. To turn a girl into a bird of prey. "Sorry," he murmurs at last. He thinks of reaching out to her, but even in his mind the gesture feels too familiar. He abstains. The momentary silence between them feels heavy.
Then she returns the question, and Seiji hesitates. It seems cruel, again, to reveal his eagerness. His hope. He thinks he must have something to go back to. A good life. Somewhere far from these crumbling walls, this darkening sky. After some thought, Seiji nods. "I should not be here," he responds. "I do not want to be." It sounds selfish even to him, and he winces, surprised by his lack of grace. "Maybe," he adds, "there is somewhere better. For you, too."
The shadow crossing her features is unmistakable. He cannot name it precisely — sorrow? guilt? shame? or something else? — but he understands it. Seiji's expression cools as regret pools in his stomach. He should not have asked. A cruel question. An overly familiar question. He had simply been excited.... but that is no excuse. He wants to comfort, but can think of no words for it. So he allows the silence to rest, his eyes focused on her and full of soft concern. Maybe he is lucky, to remember nothing. To feel no guilt. No terror. Only hope and a burgeoning determination.
It must have been a dark place she came from. Of course — to make her so fierce. To turn a girl into a bird of prey. "Sorry," he murmurs at last. He thinks of reaching out to her, but even in his mind the gesture feels too familiar. He abstains. The momentary silence between them feels heavy.
Then she returns the question, and Seiji hesitates. It seems cruel, again, to reveal his eagerness. His hope. He thinks he must have something to go back to. A good life. Somewhere far from these crumbling walls, this darkening sky. After some thought, Seiji nods. "I should not be here," he responds. "I do not want to be." It sounds selfish even to him, and he winces, surprised by his lack of grace. "Maybe," he adds, "there is somewhere better. For you, too."
The rain is full
of ghosts tonight
of ghosts tonight
