memoryboxes | 31st Memory [Video/Action]

[Sayo couldn't remember a lot concerning her kidnapping and how long she'd been gone (she never does), but it actually hadn't been long. Felt like a long time, but it wasn't. All she could think opening her eyes was that she had to go to work soon. She tries to drag herself to her feet using a fallen tree, reaching for the journal that had just fallen from numbed hands. The feed starts up staring up at the trees, where sun was streaming through.

And then the sounds of rustling stops. Off-screen, Sayo is reaching behind her ear shakily, under her hair, where a thumping jagged wound—newly stitched—ran from the back of her ear toward the back of her head. About three inches, but enough to scare her. It hurt to the touch, and maybe it was causing this pain thrumming in her head. Was this always there? This painful mark? And then it hits her.

Something's wrong.

Who's this person in her memories? Why is she thinking of these things? She doesn't remember—

"Mom, why didn't you say anything?!"

I just want to forget...

"Mom!!"

She tries to control her breathing, but the flood of images hit her from all sides, and she wraps her arms around herself. These things—she'd forgotten these things, she wanted to forget them.]

No...

[She jars the journal over with her leg, and clutches her head in her hands before she doubles over. She doesn't even remember his name. It's not fair that she remembers the rest of it: Kaji's hand clutched in hers, she fell, and then that was it. She'd forgotten. She'd forgotten what he'd done to her. She'd loved him so much—]

No!!

[Muffled by her kimono she screams at first, and then the tears start, raw and throaty sounds escaping her. Why did they give these back to her? She didn't want them. She was happy just having Kaji and never remembering the rest. She breathlessly reaches over and hits the journal away, and it lands upside down. Black screen.]

Why—why—

I thought I was... I thought you...

[She hadn't forgotten him the same way she'd played out in her mind.

He forgot her.]

[She'll get up and start wearily toward the village eventually. She just wants to get home--Mithos needs her, and she needs to get ready for the day, and... she's not sure what time it is, but she needs to go.]

[Through the first few days, she goes right back to work at the tea shop and the restaurant. She's found working to be... some sort of distraction. Anything is a welcomed distraction. She's not her usual best, but she'll try hard. She might be forgetting things that she wouldn't usually forget; lately, she's had a hard time focusing, so her notes are blurring together for her. She'll serve as usual, though. She'll be a good worker. Or at least a decent one, all things considered.]

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Ah—[But he's already moving, so she just lets him win this one.] Thank you...

[She was pretty parched. How long has it been since she's drank anything? She'd just about grimaced at that reply about remembering, though. She's barely managing to keep herself together in front of him. But she can't keep her hands from shaking in her lap, whether it's from weariness or anxiety.]

[He hands the cup to her, sitting down at the other end of couch. He then seems to change his mind, scooting a few inches closer.]

[She sits quietly with the drink, and remains that way for a long, pregnant pause. She keeps flipping through these memories, in horrified awe at how clear they are, at how sudden they'd came to her. She shakes still, the strength she'd stirred to come home long since gone.

Kaji's hand in hers. She pulls him and he's calling to her.

Mom!!

She reaches over and grabs Mithos' hand, squeezing for reassurance. His hand was around the same size as Kaji's; the thought makes her bite her lip, eyes glazing with tears that threaten to slip down her face.]

[He watches her in unsettled silence, small and powerless in the way a child only can feel when a parent - a protector, a rock - falls apart in front of him. When she squeezes his hand, he covers her hand with his other. His hold is firm, afraid to let go.

He doesn't know what to say. His mouth opens wordlessly for a moment, before he remembers what she would say to him if their places were switched.] I'm...here. I'm here.

[It's a small comfort. She'll take anything she can right now. Without hesitation she leans in, holding his hand tightly in her shaking one, tears dripping freely now as she tries to subdue the sounds of anguish that want to pour free. Feverish, she keeps close to his side.]

Please, don't go anywhere.

[This time, she needs you. This time, someone left her.

She's scared that she'll feel his hand vanish from hers, and then the house will truly be silent.]

[He's often wondered how she can find the strength to keep standing up tall and walking forward with the burden she's forced to carry, and now he wonders how she's stopped herself from breaking down like this so many other times.] I won't... I'm not leaving you.

[It feels natural to say, even as he remembers that the last time he had seen her so low...he had been the one to cast her down there. Because he had run away. That place seems thousands of miles behind him as he squeezes her hand gently.]

I'll stay right here.

[He has nowhere else to go, but even if he did he couldn't leave her. Not just because he needs her to care about him, but because for some reason she might need him too.]

[The words seem to break apart whatever strength she was trying to muster to support herself, and her body sags to lean closer; she's a leaning, trembling figure, clutching to his hand like a small, scared child. All the while, she cries, breaths replaced with sobs she tries in vain to hush.]

[He gently takes back one of his hands so that he can wrap his arm around her shoulders and hold her as close as she wants to be. The hand that remains clasps hers more firmly. Dimly through the thick desperation that binds them, it strikes him as odd that he should be taller than her. He has been for some time, but it never seemed this prominent before. As she cries, he doesn't let up with the soft reassurances.]

I'm here...I'm not going anywhere. You don't have to be alone. [He doubts he's as good at comforting, at striking just the right words, as she is, but he wants to try. He wants her to know he's sincere. Sincere enough to scare himself...it's scary, caring this much.]

Thank you—I'm sorry, thank you-

[Times like these, she wishes she could sleep. She wishes she could feel that sensation unknown to her—rest and darkness, something she could flee to for a moment. But then... perhaps it's best she couldn't sleep. Couldn't dream. So instead she just leans on his shoulder, eyes shut, trembling lessened by his support.

She would not be alone. It's what held her together in that moment, knowing what she knew.

Mithos would be here.]

[It's scary because of the moments when he remembers she's a human - after moments when distinctions evaporate because with her it doesn't matter - and the word is heavy enough with insidious connotations to wind him, despite how far he's come. Scary because he doesn't know what lies ahead of him.]

You have nothing to apologize for.

[But it would be scarier without her by his side. He knows what it's like to have loneliness crush him down smaller and smaller to the point where he feels like he doesn't exist anymore. He doesn't want her to know that feeling.

She has been there for him, in that dark place where all you want is something to hold onto, so he will be here for her.]

31st Memory [Video/Action]

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