22nd Memory [Future-dated to Saturday Morning][Voice/Possible Action]

[memoryboxes]

[It was the usual day—forgetting something, needing an ear on the matter, and then calling someone. It was when she would typically call someone like Raine, or Ginko. And when she called the Mushi-shi, it fell through.

...

It fell through?

No, that's not right. That wouldn't happen. She must've just... done something wrong.

But then it continues to not connect. It's not connecting... That meant—No, no, nonono,  no, please. You can't do this. You can't wander away again; it was okay to walk away before, but not now. You can't just leave now, after everything that's happened, after all she's learned and gained—gained from everyone here, and from you.

Her hands grow numb and her body is hot and her head is spinning, and for a moment she loses her legs from under her and nearly pulls the tablecloth down with her. A soft pitter pat of stunned tears hit the journal. No... It's just a mistake. Maybe they took him and shut off his journal. But that wouldn't make sense, would it, Sayo?

—she has to be sure. And upon checking where he would have typically stayed... she's struck silent.

He's gone.

When she makes the announcement, there's a long, horrible pause where she keeps her voice from betraying the overwhelming feeling in her stomach.]

Ginko-san is....

Ginko-san has left Luceti.

[As the journal shuts, a choked sob cuts out in the middle. It won't be long now until Nami's journal admits Sanji's leaving, forcing Sayo to unleash her own strained tears at the thought that two of the most important people in her life now have vanished without a trace. O-or... some sad trace, she thinks feverishly, cradling the blue notebook in her arms.

They're gone.... just like that.]

Comments

[mikangirl.livejournal.com]

[She's halfway to Sayo's when she sees this announcement, and Nami breaks into a run. She won't even bother to knock-- the door is already ajar, so she pushes it right open and comes in.]

Sayo?

[memoryboxes]

[There's no reply. The shaking woman can't speak without some semblance of pain burrowing into her voice, so she doesn't. She curls up further on the couch—if you come here, she has to face the truth, and that is so unbelievably hard to do right now.

You can't be here, because that means it wasn't just her imagination or some dream she couldn't have ever dreamed in the first place.]

[mikangirl.livejournal.com]

[She doesn't need to speak, then. How hard this has to be for her-- does she know Sanji's gone, too? She can't be sure-- but either way, she sits down on the couch next to her and pulls Sayo into a tight hug.]

[memoryboxes]

[It takes Sayo a moment to register Nami's presence, shell-shocked as she is, but when she finally does there's a slow motion to return the embrace. She's hugged very few times in Luceti. The other... the other time—it was here in this apartment, holding Ginko for dear life.

Had she not held on tightly enough...]

They're both gone... Nami-san... They've left...

I shouldn't—be so upset—

[choked]

It's good to go home, isn't it??

[How could she work at the restaurant, when all of her days had Sanji in them? That careful balancing act brought such a sense of normalcy, and now... Now she's missing something she couldn't have kept in her world.

They were like her memories. But instead of never knowing they'd left her, Ginko and Sanji have left only those images, imprinted well into her mind. She would have begged to lose them like before, as long as she'd got to keep them...]

[mikangirl.livejournal.com]

No. It's okay to be upset. It's okay. [But Nami doesn't sound so upset. She sounds hollow. Still, her grip is sure, trying to give as much comfort as she can.]

It's good that they went. But we don't-- we don't have to like it. At all.

[Said to Chopper, an age ago now. Oh, Sayo. She's so sorry.]

[memoryboxes]

[She tries to compose herself, but it's so difficult.]

I won't even remember him... If I go back, I'll never remember what he did for me....

[She pulls closer, feeling sick.]

And Sanji-san....

[She can't even finish that.]

I—they'll be able to do what they love now; it's good. That's a good thing...

[mikangirl.livejournal.com]

Yeah. It is.

[...]

You can remember while you're still here, though. And he might come back one day. [She feels horrible saying as much, but it is true.] Even if he doesn't remember the time he already spent here, you can tell him. He'll know.

[On the topic of Sanji, she says nothing at all.]

[memoryboxes]

Yes...

[She's already thought that many times before Nami appeared. That he could come back. That it would only be a matter of time... She sits back against the couch, forehead hot from all of these sad thoughts.]

I won't forget.... I won't let myself forget it.

[mikangirl.livejournal.com]

Maybe you should write it all down. [Nami's voice is soft, and she suggests it less because Sayo might forget and more because it would give her friend something to focus on.] All the things you talked about, that you did together, what you miss... if he comes back, you can show him.

[memoryboxes]

I will. I'll write it all down, so he knows. [Her hands ball into fists.] He's helped me for this long; I can't let any of that go.

[mikangirl.livejournal.com]

No.

[...it's funny. Sanji and Ginko both leaving on the same day. She hasn't had much grief to spare for Ginko in the wake of their own loss, but it occurs to her she's going to miss hearing the sound of his casual claiming of their roof.]

I'm sorry, Sayo.

[memoryboxes]

[She can't bring herself to look at Nami. It's hard to look at anything.]

... I'm sorry, too.