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001 amputation
Oct. 26th, 2016 11:12 pm[Makoto Naegi, the living embodiment of hope itself, had finally made headway into the conclusion of the Biggest, Most Awful, Most Tragic Event in Human History. There was so much rebuilding, so many open wounds the world had to heal- but there finally the aspiration and determination to put things back on track. Even if despair had held society captive, he, with the help of friends, could make it out and enact real, positive change. It was the eve of class beginning again- he sat at the desk, ready to don the title and prestige of headmaster. The appointment felt unreal, unbearably heavy in its constitution, and he could only imagine an endless babbling brook of bumps in the road ahead.
His fingers traced the edges of his new desk- finely cut cedar wood, which felt out of place against the backdrop of destruction that still plagued the environment outside of school. Tonight's a special night, one for remembrance of the allies he lost in two mutual killing games, the strings of fate that were cut all too soon, meaningless sacrifices to a god who didn't hear humanity's call for repentance. He sits in the chair- it's well past midnight at this point, and he knows that sleep isn't going to be possible just yet. In mere hours, he'd welcome the next class of hopefuls, each person individually spectacular- but infinitely more together.
Hearing the door creek open, he can't help but smile. This must be Kirigiri, he assumes, who can't sleep either. There's too much in the past to foolishly live without a slight worry that the dawn would bring something different than anticipated. She was a detective, after all; a person who could see into the true nature of things with a deductive and sharp eye. How she ever fell for him, he'd never know. He didn't think he could possibly warrant the affection of someone so inherently different than him.
But when he realized it wasn't her, it was far too late. He felt unconsciousness slip into him quicker than the panic could, something deep within his body that shut everything down. He slept a dreamless slumber, somewhere in the passage between life and death. When he awoke, his head was covered and he felt a strain at his wrists. The lethargy was still there, however, his body still numb as his heart sunk into the possibility that...
This was another game.]
His fingers traced the edges of his new desk- finely cut cedar wood, which felt out of place against the backdrop of destruction that still plagued the environment outside of school. Tonight's a special night, one for remembrance of the allies he lost in two mutual killing games, the strings of fate that were cut all too soon, meaningless sacrifices to a god who didn't hear humanity's call for repentance. He sits in the chair- it's well past midnight at this point, and he knows that sleep isn't going to be possible just yet. In mere hours, he'd welcome the next class of hopefuls, each person individually spectacular- but infinitely more together.
Hearing the door creek open, he can't help but smile. This must be Kirigiri, he assumes, who can't sleep either. There's too much in the past to foolishly live without a slight worry that the dawn would bring something different than anticipated. She was a detective, after all; a person who could see into the true nature of things with a deductive and sharp eye. How she ever fell for him, he'd never know. He didn't think he could possibly warrant the affection of someone so inherently different than him.
But when he realized it wasn't her, it was far too late. He felt unconsciousness slip into him quicker than the panic could, something deep within his body that shut everything down. He slept a dreamless slumber, somewhere in the passage between life and death. When he awoke, his head was covered and he felt a strain at his wrists. The lethargy was still there, however, his body still numb as his heart sunk into the possibility that...
This was another game.]
