Work Text:
“...ya…”
“...raya?”
“Araya!”
A head of black and blue hair stirs, weighed down by dreams that she will soon forget. She is not quite awake, but she will be — she's just pretending to sleep, it's a habit she's had since she was very little — and that was enough for the girl who towered over her desk to start babbling away. Something about being late, or being sleepy during the day and wide awake in the dead of night, keeping her speakers on full volume from sundown to sunrise and bothering her neighbors with the noise of her amateurish music. The same old complaints from the same old friend, who just so happens to love complaining.
“Can't hear you, Kira… Got my ear buds in.”
“Stupid! You've only got it in one ear! The whole school could literally close up right now and you'd still be here when summer break ends!”
Araya chuckles and lifts her head with a stretch of both her arms, satisfied with the reactions she got from her friend and seatmate. “Okay, okay. Where's the rest of us?”
“On the way—”
A looming figure appears behind Kira, hand on her head. A sly smile spreads across her metallic face.
“Right here.”
“Get off me!” Kira twists her upper body to land a full-force punch on the source of the voice, only for her fist to be caught in the grip of a prosthetic. “Ughhh, Albina! It's just you, darn it.”
Araya watches as Albina withholds the urge to grin. She doesn't do the same; she knows how fun it is to mess with Kira. They've found that it's especially easier to annoy people who grew up a little spoiled. There's no doubt they pity her for the way she's been so carelessly raised, but they figured it's better for Kira to become familiar with not getting her way. Or at least that's the excuse they use to get on her nerves.
Albina hums. “Good afternoon, Araya. You're awake. That's really good. We were planning on leaving you behind this time if you weren't.”
“That's what I was telling her!”
“Jokes on you, my mom would've come and got me, if not you guys.” Araya scoffs and tosses her notebooks and pens into her bag, the supplies haphazardly falling into the red randoseru with one fell swoop of her arm. “M’kaay. Thanks for waiting. Let's go~”
Kira glances over Albina's shoulder. “Wait a sec, Sora texted that she'd be here in a bit. Ren and Lucio too.”
“Hehe. Ren and Lucio? Maybe not. They forget everybody else when they're together.”
“They're together!?!”
“No. But they will be.”
As if this whole mess was orchestrated beforehand, a pair of faces greeted the rest of the group from behind the sliding door of the classroom. One had a head of long grey hair, its length only barely controlled by a ponytail, and the other boasted an outdated but somewhat stylish bob, snipped to a silky straight perfection just above his chin.
The latter, named Ren, attempted a polite smile. A simple tug of the corners that showed that he was actually rather peeved. He definitely heard what Albina and Kira were talking about. “Where might Sora be? She seemed particularly over the moon for summer break, yet she's the last to arrive. Perhaps she'd gone before us.”
Lucio, who was certainly not hiding that he overheard anything, just grumbled next to Ren.
“H-Here! Here! I-I'm here!!”
A smaller figure poked out from behind the two taller students, peeking over their shoulders and waving her arms, as if she'd be left behind had she not made excessive efforts to prove she was present.
“Don't panic, Sora! I saw your text!”
The three in the doorway came forward, completing the crowd surrounding Araya's desk. Sora adjusted her glasses with a sheepish laugh. “T-That's a relief. You're awake… They were all joking that… they'd leave you behind if you were sleeping by the end of the day… B-but, I didn’t wanna prank you like that…”
Lucio shrugged. “I didn't think we were joking. I wanted to leave you behind for real.”
“Is that so? Had we been speaking seriously in regards to the plan to abandon Araya, my humble self would have taken Sora's side as well. I do not wish to incur Aunt Yoshihide's wrath,” Ren gave Sora a reassuring but empty glance, to which she responded with an embarrassed chuckle. “As Araya's friends, we are trusted with the expectation to never leave her behind.”
“NTM, Ren. I know you of all people would never do that.”
“Gosh, I still find it so weird that Miss Popular and Freakazoid are related,” Kira's eyes darted back and forth between Ren and Araya, taking note of their similar black and blue hues. Araya's hair was streaked with a marvelous blue that matched that of Ren's pupils. “Anyway. Now we can get going! Summer breaaakk!”
An echoing cacophony of cheers ripples throughout the empty classroom, a charming juxtaposition to the silence of a warm, hazy afternoon. Araya erupted in squeals of celebration as well, elated to spend the next few weeks worrying about nothing more than which of her loved ones she should spend time with next.
The one who takes utmost priority is her mother, who she scarcely encountered amidst the isolating plight of exams. Her mother was not the kind to say it outright (at least, not so often) but Araya knew that she'd been worried for her over the past few months. In hindsight, it was a reasonable concern. Araya rarely left her room, only appearing for dinner, and wouldn't speak save for the rare moments her mother attempted to make conversation. At this point, her mother was surely thinking that she'd reached that phase of her adolescence, which Araya found pretty comedic in the context of her mother's personality. But she was going to come home later and show her that she wasn't that kind of teen. Exams just tend to knock the fun and soul out of everything. In truth, Araya loved talking to her mom. It was her favorite thing to do. Her mother's entertained chuckle was a lovely song of its own.
Soon, a cluster of tired scholars swarm out from the creaking school gates, sharing handheld mini fans to combat the summertime blaze. The eldest among them, Araya, lingers at the back. A bird caws overhead, and from its point of view, the little heads appear as a floating constellation. Stars drifted apart in pairs and threes, connected by a thread only visible to lone star at the tail of the cluster.
Araya found solace in observing her dearest ones. She formed the habit because of her mother, who was an enigma even to her.
On each of her fingers, Araya could feel the gentle, yet unseverable tug of fate's threads. She often wondered if anyone else could sense its unseizing pull, whether from near or far. But it wasn't a question she knew how to ask without sounding insane.
As her eyes follow the trails of red, she finds herself watching the people on the other side. Apart from the things they'd reveal themselves, there was always a little more love to be found in what was unspoken about a person. Now, had you asked her younger self, she would never have believed that they would be the kind of people she'd surround herself with. Araya was a rather trendy person. She was always up-to-date with the flow of popular culture and had a name that the school knew well.
Like Kira claimed, Araya was “popular”. Exactly the sort of reputation she wanted to have when she first came into high school. Araya had dreamed of being a popular girl since she was little. An odd dream influenced by one too many movies, yes, and she somehow made it; but all things considered, she'd always been a flower that attracted the presence of the most eccentric honeybees. Perhaps such was the blessing of being her mother's daughter.
Araya presses her middle finger against her palm.
Kira often walked with a skip in her step, and if she was in a bad mood, she'd hunch her back and mope around in this silly, cartoonish way that Araya loved to witness. She was a byproduct of an arguably privileged but thoughtless upbringing, so she got whatever she wanted regardless of the consequences it dealt. Her free spirit always lights up the room… But a lot of the time, it takes more than one of them to keep her feet on the earth. Today, she was almost flying across the pavement, getting ahead of everyone in a one-sided race as she rambled on and on about a new season for this animated series she'd been keeping up with.
Then she turned around and started to jog backwards, facing her friends with a frown on her face and arms on her hips. “You guys walk so slowly! You think you have all the time in the world, but Dad told me that breaks pass by like nothing, so we have to do everything, everywhere, all at once. Or we'll regret it for real!”
“I'm not wasting my energy,” Lucio kicks a pebble, and it hits Kira right in the shin, causing her to yelp. “The faster we get there, the sooner I have to go home. I want to wait till my mom leaves for work.”
“Ouch, you moron,” Kira spits. “But sure. Fair enough. I really don't want you going back home to that snob either.”
“...Don't call her that.”
“But she is one.”
“Your father is the same.”
It seems the two are fighting again. Araya bites her thumb.
Lucio always carried himself like a hollow puppet on loose strings. It was only recently that he'd begun speaking when he wanted to, instead of when he was urged to. The blunt personality he'd been suppressing since his childish youth was a pleasant surprise to many, for although his words were enough to start a fight on occasion, it was better than not getting to hear what he was thinking at all. For a time, all he uttered were echoes of what others… or a certain woman, would've wanted to hear from him.
“Gosh. Let's just be siblings in the next life. Maybe then we'll understand this.”
He and Kira often clashed for this reason, but they've been getting closer and closer to finding a compromise these days.
Araya yanks Kira by her hoodie right before she trots backwards into oncoming traffic. “Last break, your mom wouldn't let you leave at all… Let’s take today as slowly as possible. For Lucio.”
“You don't have to do anything for me.”
“I believe otherwise. You deserve the comfort of a well-earned break as much as we do,” Ren interjects, placing a gentle hand on Lucio's shoulder as they cross the street. “It would be unfair to you, should we spend our days of leisure with shared joy in spite of your absence. We… have to be together.”
“It's alright, Ren. This is how it's been for years. I'm used to it. Besides, my mom is getting older.”
“I suppose you mean to offer her your assistance as the effects of age catch up to her health,” Ren's eyes wandered across Lucio's face, an attempt to gauge his elusive friend's thoughts. “But you should remember that your own youth is but a fleeting moment as well, and thus, you should also—”
“No. I'm waiting it out.”
“Oh.”
“There's nothing within my power that I can do other than wait.” Lucio's words were clearly upsetting enough to render Ren speechless, for once. But Araya noticed a faint smile beginning to form in the stiff corners of Lucio's lips — perhaps… He'd actually made an attempt to ease Ren's worries?
“If there is truly nothing to be done about it, then I shall pry no more,” Ren sighs, “However. Araya, perhaps you should tell your mother in advance that we will come home at a later time.”
Araya scrunches her nose, feet shuffling on the asphalt sidewalk. “Urk. She's gonna be mad.”
“She will be at least a little angered no matter what choice you make. She has been trying to tell you to refrain from being out so late into the night for a very long time. But I acknowledge your hesitancy. My humble self can tell Auntie for you.”
Araya pouts for a moment, then holds out her pinky.
“Promise?”
Ren does the same. A pact is made, and the two held many pacts like this one in their earliest memories. “Whatever you need.”
Ren's fatal flaw was the emptiness of his self-esteem. The best example Araya could come up with, in regards to her relative's strangeness, was his continuous insistence to take the blow for her whenever she was in trouble, may it have been with her mother or a teacher at school. Other than being relatives, it was hard to tell what other qualities earned Ren's loyal heart, for Araya could swear she shared not a single trait with Lucio. Fortunately, in recent times, the ones he'd given himself to have begun encouraging him to value the tranquility of his own world.
From the front, with both arms linked with Kira, Albina shakes her head. “Oh, Ren. You never change. Don't you know you will be called a “bad influence” once again? One day, you will join Lucio in being absent from our hangouts.”
“Y-Yeah… And Araya… Maybe if you tell your mom yourself, and ask really nicely, and promise to stay safe, then…” Sora's gaze struggles to find Araya, who was still dragging her feet at the back of the group.
Ren presses his lips together, contemplating something. “Well, if Aunt Yoshihide decides to forbid me from “hanging out”, it would not be so horrible of an outcome, for it means Lucio and I would share that misfortune. Still, I hope we can be together.”
“Don't fret too much. I've been practicing sneaking out lately… I just have to do it when she's sleeping. We'll be together this time.” Lucio avoids looking at the black-haired boy next to him, before eventually assuming an interest in the molten sky above.
Walking ahead of them, Kira and Albina bump heads and start to gossip in hushed tones.“Geez, they're actually hammering in the ‘together’ thing, aren't they?”
“Yes. I told you so.”
Ren coughed. “I meant to convey that my hopes were rooted in the prospect of Lucio being together with us all.”
“Errr, I don't want that actually? Don't we all need to consent to that kind of relationship?”
“What you are thinking is not what I meant either.”
As Kira and Ren continued to engage in an increasingly childish back-and-forth, with Lucio's grumbling as background noise, Albina's unreadable black and white stare meets Araya's glistening greys. The former glances at Ren and Lucio before showing off a mischievous grin that, quite jarringly, doesn't reach her eyes.
Araya stifles a giggle, wiggling her ring finger.
She mouths, “They're so married.”
On the same finger is a handcrafted ring made by Albina herself. Its thin, lone coil bears resemblance to a silky, shimmering thread spun into a spider's web, silver and warm to the touch with life. The ring is decorated by a single plastic, false gemstone, bright red like Araya's school bag. Albina was no jeweler, nor did she want to pursue that profession at all, but she was an artist of countless medium. She was currently amidst an experimental phase, constantly jumping from one mode of creation to another. Araya found it hard to believe that she'd find her ultimate style anytime soon. Someone like Albina couldn't be restrained by specifics and methods, naturally finding beauty within the chaos of things instead. All to say she follows her own logic, sometimes at the expense of others, which made it difficult for Albina to make friends.
And yet…
“Today… Fascia is in a good mood. I can hear her shaking with laughter in my bag. She's so happy she forgot to feel hungry,” Albina muses, “I think she's too excited to eat. Kira, do you want me to… spend my lunch money on you instead?”
Kira, now done messing with Ren, waves at the air as if to waft away Albina's suggestion. “Bah! No way! Just ‘cause you don't feel hungry now doesn't mean you won't be later. No offense to your dad, but his cooking is…”
Sora shivers. “R-Raw… Really raw…”
“My humble self regrets to admit that I would never let your father's exploits in the culinary arts meet my lips.”
“It's impressive that you haven't contracted salmonella,” Lucio visibly holds back a barf.
Albina simply nods in understanding, neither agreeing nor disagreeing to the burst of concerns surrounding her father's cooking. “Father likes our food looking beautiful. I want to learn how to make art out of everything and anything like he does.”
“So you're, like, 100% positive you wanna eat that when you get home, then…?”
“....Well. Kira, I have come up with a new proposal. This time it may satisfy you,” Albina swallows, as if she was about to take a leap of faith. To her, it probably was one. “How would you feel about introducing Fascia to a new kind of food? Perhaps a little less fresh corpus of a farm animal, and more… Instant noodles?”
Kira beams, trapping Albina in a massive bear hug. “YEEESS! Join the club!”
As of late, Albina's been doing her best to welcome one of the best benefits of a friendship; what was once a nuisance becomes less of one when your friends take a liking to them. Araya feels a secondary tug from the other side of her string, linking Albina and Kira's fingers together as they talk about their favorite meals.
Approaching the convenience store, the sweet golden hues of noon start to melt, welcoming the colder blues and indigos of the night's starlit sky. In this world, the glow of the stars above can be seen even beyond the thickest tufts of clouds. Always there to wish upon, to offer light where the suffocating darkness longs to dwell, to reveal a sign of comfort when all else fails and the world shatters. Because as people change, become better or worse, only the long-lived stars can bear witness to it all. Araya found that no bundle of threads are the same. Each knot hurts differently, and when it leads to another, the two sides have a choice. Whether to sever the thread, or to untie the knot, allowing it to flow freely once more. They may also decide to keep the knot there, so that each tug of the thread may give them a shock each time they recall that knot. The changes between people are ultimately caused by this one decision… but in the end, a thread that once was, always will be, whether or not it is severed. Even the stars have no play in that.
So when Araya notices Sora loitering in the parking lot while everyone else buys their snacks, she approaches her by wiggling a packet of chips in her palm.
“Don't worry. Sometimes I come here empty-handed too.”
Sora's cheeks turn into two red apples once she realizes what Araya is doing. “Y-You don't have to… I'm not hungry. It's okay.”
Actually, the nervous girl was a new addition to their little troupe. It was only a few months ago when Araya first spotted her in the corner of the classroom, nibbling on almonds or what looked like the sort. The memory was so vivid in Araya's recollections that she could remember the exact thoughts she had at the time.
Is that a transfer student? When did she get here?
She's all alone… Best I go talk to her and make a good impression.
Here goes. “Hey there. You're a new student, right? I'm Araya. Nice to meet ya.”
“Oh! Hello, Araya... I'm Sora. Um… Nice to meet you too. But, uh, I-I…” The girl goes wide-eyed, almost a little horrified, like a dear in headlights. “I've been your classmate for more than a year now, so…”
Araya was so ridden with guilt from the interaction that she introduced Sora to the other four. While they didn't mind her at all, it was obvious that there was no real connection between Sora and the others. Though she would never mention it, perhaps out of fear, Araya knew that the pitiful new addition noticed her discordant presence too. All the sadness she'd accidentally caused Sora was eating Araya up inside, and she'd been spending her nights pondering what choice she should make. It kept her up all night as her worries spiraled in the pits of her stomach like a rusted, cruel weapon. Making these choices was infinitely harder to do when she had yet to see a single thread on Sora's fingers.
Sora… had nobody who truly knew her. From what little Araya knew about Sora, it was clear to her that the girl wanted no more than a genuine connection to someone. She had a desperate desire for the love and approval of someone else. Inside her was a frail clew, tangled and torn, a byproduct of all the failed attempts to make one single connection. Araya imagined a possibility in which a tug of a fated thread could tighten up the clew into a healthy little ball again.
Threads appeared whenever Araya wasn't looking, and threads disappeared whenever she was. But maybe this time she could watch a thread form instead of snap.
“Y'know, we don't actually come here because we're hungry,” Araya sits down on the paved surface outside the convenience store, motioning for Sora to join her. “It's just… Mmm, a tradition of ours, I guess? If we're all having a good day, we come here and eat real unhealthy stuff. All the sodium in the world.”
“Oh, I know.”
“Huh?”
“S-Sorry,” Sora whimpers as she sits next to Araya, curling in on herself and hugging her knees. “The… the truth is! I don't really like eating snacks like chips or instant noodles? U-Um, actually, I do. Just not too much, or my stomach gets upset— um,” she stops herself, possibly wary of saying too much, as if her number of words are limited. “But I didn't wanna ruin your good days by saying something so… well, party-pooping…”
Araya pauses, looking behind her and through the glass walls of the convenience store. The light inside is white and piercing, and crowding the counter was Kira, Albina, Lucio and Ren. It seems Kira cut in line again. A cashier watches the mess with bored eyes, used to scenes like this.
After that brief moment, Araya's attention returns to Sora. “What's your fave dessert then?”
Sora blinks, somehow utterly dumbfounded by a normal question about herself. Then, she mindlessly responds, “I like… ice cream. Vanilla ice cream. I like it with almonds on top.”
“Gotcha.” Araya shoots Sora a grin before scrambling to her feet and into the convenience store.
Right as she enters, the four others emerge from the doors, carrying armfuls of disgustingly unhealthy snacks. It's summer break, so all horrible habits and choices are free game. Kira shakes a cup noodle in Sora's face, startling the newbie. “I got Albina to see my vision, and you're next!”
“Unless it is an artistic one, I have not a clue what vision you're talking about. I am merely partaking in your bad food choices to bond with you, as we are good friends,” Albina shakes her head, holding a cup noodle in an odd way that made her metallic joints bend in all the wrong directions. “In fact. It was Sora who gave me this idea.”
Sora's eyes quiver in the way they always do when she is caught off-guard, her voice going up by what sounds like two more octaves. “W-Wha? Really? I don't remember telling you anything.”
“Yes. You told me nothing. But I read your diary while you were not looking, and you wrote something about friends doing things like sharing the things we lov—”
“Wahhh! Um, m-my diary!? That's—that's so embarrassing…” Sora's face heats up, the red reaching the tips of her ears. Her entire posture deflates a second later. “But I guess I… did write that. It's on me for not closing the pages, so it doesn't matter that you read it...”
Kira steps on Albina's foot. “Hold on! That's a breach of privacy! If anyone touched my Diary of Vengeance, I'd whack them dead! Don't let her off so easy, Sora!”
“Agreed. It is no laughing matter to pry into another's most treasured thoughts, especially ones stored in a book of which bears the promise of secrecy.” Ren adds, before chewing on a gummy worm.
A corner of Lucio's mouth twitches, as if to hide his amusement. “You would know a thing or two about keeping secrets. I overheard you practicing your singing in your room the other day. It was an experience.”
Ren chokes.
“Enough. I've grown appreciative of the musical arts, and it is not something to be shameful of. You, however, still engulf a stuffed animal in your embrace before wandering into the realm of sleep.”
“Ugh.”
Kira and Albina exchange squinting looks of suspicion. Why do either of them know these things about each other? Did they have a sleepovers together without everyone else?
Sora twiddles her fingers, still sitting in an awkward, balled-up position on the pavement. Making eye contact with Lucio proves to be a challenge, but she manages it nonetheless. “I don't think that's shameful. I hug my stuffed animals to bed, too… If that's any comfort to you.”
Lucio clears his throat, mumbling into his closed fist in a coughing gesture. “Ahem. See, Ren? I am not to be ashamed of anything, no matter what you say.”
Ren does his personal equivalent of an eye roll, which is closing his eyes as if to sleep.
“A-Ah, don't be upset, Ren! Teaching yourself how to sing sounds like so much fun. I'm sure you'll be good at it with practice,” Sora swivels around, glasses going crooked with the rushed motion. “Ummm. I sing in secret too sometimes. Maybe we can all sing together… Ah. Maybe not. Sorry.”
Followed by a soft smile, Ren's eyes flutter open. The boy was one whose genuine display of emotions were rare. Even his eyes would say nothing. If not his usual frozen expression, he would slot in what could best be described as practiced faces, to show just enough to satisfy the other person. It was his way of maintaining a certain kind of invisibility, an isolating quality he shared with Sora. So whenever Ren smiled in the way he just did, it was as special as the first snow at the brink of fall, the momentary softening of relentlessly sharpened edges. Cute things had that effect on him.
“You need not stress. I was not truly upset. However, your words did ease my temporary shame. Neither Lucio nor I have any reason to be embarrassed over our respective secrets, regardless of how uncharacteristically “cute” they might be.”
Lucio purses his lips into a small, thin line that could easily be construed as a little pout.
“Whatever. Thank you for taking my side for a second, Sora.”
Out of place in the oddly heartfelt scene, Kira wheezes, a loud and exaggerated gasp, nearly dropping all of her store-bought food as she bounces on her heel. “Waaait, rewind. Sora, you little genius! We should sing together! Karaoke! Let's do it today! It'll be our first summer break activity!”
Albina let out what seemed to be her own little cyborgish version of a peppy schoolgirl squeal. “For sure. Fascia wants to hear lots of music. Including Ren's singing.”
“Do you want to hear it now?”
Lucio's tone was a tad too playful for Ren's comfort.
“Lucio.”
“Ren.”
“Perhaps you didn't.”
“Perhaps I did.” Lucio fishes out his phone from the depths of his pockets, gives the screen a few taps, and threatens Ren with a paused audio recording shoved in his face.
“Play it, LuLu! I wanna hear! Play it!!!”
“Play it. Fascia is asking too. Ren's singing will bring much joy to Fascia.”
“Shall I? Sora, would you like to hear it too?”
“I-I… Yes!”
“My humble self will kill you all post-haste.”
An audio recording is played in abrupt succession to Ren's threat, but the singing itself is drowned out by a racket of childlike hooting and howling.
Araya emerges from the glass doors of the convenience store, holding an already melting vanilla ice cream with almond sprinkles in one hand, and a watermelon-flavored popsicle in the other. She seems not the least bit surprised by the ruckus that she walked in on.
Instead, she hops over to Sora's side, flashes a goofy grin, and places the wafer cone of the ice cream in Sora's frail hand. “They're just the weirdest.”
Sora gets on her feet, brushing off her school uniform skirt. “Ah… I don't think so... I really like them.”
Araya giggles. “Heh. Me too,” she unzips her skirt pocket, pulling out a phone, the trendiest model as of late. Her phonecase is translucent, and tucked safely behind it is a picture of her and her mother at her first guitar performance. Araya was only half her mother's height, then. Now she's just about the same, enough to pass as her mother's mother. “Bee tee dubs, can you hold my popsicle for a sec?”
“Oh, s-sure! What for?”
“I'm gonna capture some memories.”
Araya records the horrid performance, watching Ren give up on wrestling Lucio and resorting to burying his face in his palms. He only seems annoyed, but Araya knows he's really grinning from ear to ear underneath. Kira and Albina sing along to Ren's voice, purposely off-key, heedless of the passersby just trying to get in the store.
You have shown me that I am still capable of …
Then, she turned her head to Sora, holding a finger to her lips in a hush-hush motion with her free hand.
Don't tell ‘em I got this all on camera, is what her crescent-moon eyes and toothy smile were conveying.
She'd already forgotten what she was meaning to do.
As she looks onward, a twinkling thread wraps around her index, a red trail leading to Sora's heart.
Tug.
Sora nods, assuring Araya that she'd keep her secret. Light floods into her pitch-black eyes like never seen before, and feeling an impatient thump in her chest, she brings it upon herself to join the rest of the troupe in dancing around Ren.
One day, this not-half-bad cover of a famous ballad shall trickle sweetly into this memory; of a fleeting summer day's departing sun and settling night, a song that Ren and Araya would listen to as children, and the youthful glee of six little stars. Perhaps someday they'll be lucky enough to remember all of it.
But these threads will inevitably loosen, like all things do. Flowers shall wilt. Waters shall still. Air shall stale. The scent of summer will never be the same in the coming years. That brand of gummy worms will someday be discontinued. The wind will carry this melodius laughter among its currents, never to return.
Yet…
With a single tug,
like a ripple,
like a song you once heard before, but lost the words to…
the thread will lead you back to the knots that used to hold you tight.
Remnants of each other will remain, may it be how Albina eats noodles the same way Kira does, or in the way Lucio closes his eyes like Ren when he needs to withstand the pain. Sora found a hobby in taking pictures and videos after seeing Araya do it, though all the photos still carry a sense of loneliness, snapshots of an empty soul.
The memories that formed them will always be theirs to remember and forget. But even if these threads were to falter, and the knots come undone… red coils will mark these fingers of yours, reminiscent of the strings of fate that once were.
So Araya tugs. Again, again, and once more, till she cannot forget the ache of each knot.