S E I J I
As Kiada turns up the lamp, warm light suffuses the room, chasing out the thickest of the shadows. Seiji feels his breath come easier, his body relaxing slightly. Somehow he feels warmer, too, though the small flame must not be giving off much heat. Cautiously, he pulls his feet out of his wet shoes and pads after Kiada, watching as she works next on the fireplace. Something seems to catch her attention there, and Seiji cocks his head as he studies her back, but she says nothing about it, and he lets the subject rest. Perhaps a memory, but not a pleasant one. Or at least, one best kept to herself. If such is the case, he understands.
He sinks just as carefully into one of the nearby chairs. He is not particularly worried about breaking anything, though. His caution stems more from a general feeling of unease, of being so new to this place and these people. He doesn’t want to give insult with a careless action. He also feels just a little rootless, nothing to cling to. Only the very ephemeral sense of self he carries with him. The clothes on his back. With a sigh, he breathes out and looks up to the fire. “Thank you.” He means for everything and tries to convey it with the earnestness of his tone. Seiji scoots a little nearer the fire, eager to absorb some of the heat.
When next he glances at Kiada, she’s rubbing a spot on her neck. Beneath her fingers, the skin is gnarled and slightly raised — a scar. But in a very geometric pattern, as if it were carved on purpose into her flesh. Could someone else have done that to her? Could she have done it to herself?
But then she speaks, and Seiji nods in agreement. “Much better!” he agrees, a hint of laughter in his voice. “If you need help with anything… I would be happy to,” he adds carefully. “I cannot repay with much right now…” But hopefully some time in the future. Once he remembers who he is and gets his feet under him.
As Kiada turns up the lamp, warm light suffuses the room, chasing out the thickest of the shadows. Seiji feels his breath come easier, his body relaxing slightly. Somehow he feels warmer, too, though the small flame must not be giving off much heat. Cautiously, he pulls his feet out of his wet shoes and pads after Kiada, watching as she works next on the fireplace. Something seems to catch her attention there, and Seiji cocks his head as he studies her back, but she says nothing about it, and he lets the subject rest. Perhaps a memory, but not a pleasant one. Or at least, one best kept to herself. If such is the case, he understands.
He sinks just as carefully into one of the nearby chairs. He is not particularly worried about breaking anything, though. His caution stems more from a general feeling of unease, of being so new to this place and these people. He doesn’t want to give insult with a careless action. He also feels just a little rootless, nothing to cling to. Only the very ephemeral sense of self he carries with him. The clothes on his back. With a sigh, he breathes out and looks up to the fire. “Thank you.” He means for everything and tries to convey it with the earnestness of his tone. Seiji scoots a little nearer the fire, eager to absorb some of the heat.
When next he glances at Kiada, she’s rubbing a spot on her neck. Beneath her fingers, the skin is gnarled and slightly raised — a scar. But in a very geometric pattern, as if it were carved on purpose into her flesh. Could someone else have done that to her? Could she have done it to herself?
But then she speaks, and Seiji nods in agreement. “Much better!” he agrees, a hint of laughter in his voice. “If you need help with anything… I would be happy to,” he adds carefully. “I cannot repay with much right now…” But hopefully some time in the future. Once he remembers who he is and gets his feet under him.
The rain is full
of ghosts tonight
of ghosts tonight
