Sayo | Mushishi (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
memoryboxes) wrote2011-09-23 01:59 pm
memoryboxes) wrote2011-09-23 01:59 pm
22nd Memory [Future-dated to Saturday Morning][Voice/Possible Action]
[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.]
...
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.]
no subject
[ She goes to look, as if drawn there. Ginko ... the wanderer, of all people, actually left things...?
... more than anything, it's the flower that gets her. She picks it up with gentle, shaking hands, and brushes her cheek against it and tries not to think about her tears, still falling, sticking to the petals. ]
no subject
It's strange to think he'd leave anything behind, isn't it?
no subject
... still ... it's nice to have something to remember him by. [ Her smile is faint and crooked and a little unhappy and a little nostalgic, all at once. ] ... thank you, Sayo.
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I didn't really do much... but I'm glad you've gotten something.
[a smile]
... Not just physically, of course.