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

[wise_maiden]

[Raine hadn't gone to his apartment yet -- she knew she'd be there for a while if she did. All of those plants would need tending, and surely other people would be dropping in to check. And she didn't want to be there when they did.

And she knew, too, that Sayo would have others. Others better able to help her cope with this. But that didn't stop her from coming by, anyway. To make sure that she was all right -- that she would be all right, with something like this. She could deal with her own emotions about this later. Because there was always something in putting someone else first.

And Ginko wouldn't have wanted Sayo to be to her own devices, anyway, and she had long since promised herself to keep checking in on the woman, mostly out of habit and -- other things. She's quiet as she enters, looking around at the apartment before finding her on the couch.

... and there's nothing she can say, really, seeing her like that.]

... Sayo ...

[memoryboxes]

... He's gone.

[There's a lot of weight, in words like that. She knows Raine knows. She knows there's understanding in just how much it hurts to say two words.]

[wise_maiden]

... I know.


[Even knowing doesn't make it feel real. It's to her credit that she manages not to have her own words tremble, instead sitting down next to the other woman on the couch. And softer:]

I know. I'm sorry, Sayo.

[memoryboxes]

[Tears burn her vision, and she does her damnedest to keep them from spilling over.]

He left me... notes... He left me all sorts of notes...

[wise_maiden]

[A slow nod, though Sayo likely can't see it.]

Something for you to look over... when you're feeling ready to.

[memoryboxes]

Mn.

... Sanji-san—he's gone, too.

[Depending on whether or not Raine has seen Nami's journal entry before this, it may not be much of a surprise to hear. Both had been so powerful a presence in her daily life, it was hard to think straight at the thought they were gone.]