The Accident

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Enma's P.O.V.

There's blood all over my body. In all places such as my hair and my clothes. Surrounding it were detached tentacles, scattered in pieces that are uncountable. Each length comes with different cuts. They wiggled as the individual life they had come to a close as their mother died. Unmoving, they didn't make a single sound. Something else did, not until a few seconds after I defeated it.

"Be quiet."

I took my Katana and made a jab right through its head as it wasted its final breath. The voice of hopelessness whistled out into nothingness. Finishing up, the blood stuck on to my Katana, so I flashed it through the air on said body. Some amount of it still remained, coating it. The disgusting sound it made compressed my disgust ever more after the fact. The fight led me to cut its core that was deep inside its body. The purple glow was bright. After I stabbed it, the tentacles that had been heading inside its own body dropped like corpses from the outside. The body fell with me inside, so I made a quick escape. How it had life after the energy that supported the body died was a mystery.

I walked from the main body to the countless tentacles on the floor. Flipping over one tentacle after another, I found Ina book that was a present from her mother. There was a slight glow to the pattern on it, but it too disappeared as I picked it up. It was as if the book was dead.

"I'm on my way, Ina."

There's no minding it now. The mission wasn't a failure until I found Ina alive or temporarily unconscious. The bow she received wasn't anything she couldn't handle. Then again, the way her body was acting doubted my positive outlook on her condition. That large amount of blood loss wasn't something a normal human could manage. This is frustrating as I recall something about her personality. It's because she comes across as human, pretending to be one, also pretending to be not, and vice versa with our interactions over the years leading me to believe if it's either-or. Was she human or non-human? Only she knows the answer, and I doubt she will tell me the truth even in a serious conversation.

"She's one heck of a person when she is actually funny. Ha, ha."

I rarely laugh when I'm around people, but when it comes to an occasion like this it isn't an okay time, but finding the time is a difficult endeavour. Work vacation leave is a strange concept. I didn't question once. Maybe that's the reason I can't find time.


***


Calli's P.O.V.

"Calli, just one more kiss, please."

"What are you talking about? We've never kissed before."

"Look how long we've been together. At least try to be honest with your feelings."

"What feelings are you talking about? Those feelings died when I became a human-looking reaper."

So on and so forth were the demands and stress of having a demanding girlfriend. Our relationship stands by friendship and solely Platonic "feelings" for each other. Feelings? Those things are mere figures of speech whenever I use them in a sentence. They never existed.

"Did you say, girlfriend? Oh my, Calli. You're so forward. How could you flirt with me like this? It's too much."

My displeasure and somewhat happiness comes from the pressure of dealing with this girl. Unlike what's going on right now, her lack of self-awareness is so funny sometimes I sometimes forget to laugh out loud. Really. It is honestly funny. Her mistakes and her personality. If we had a child, I wonder how our traits would be distributed.

Lost OneOnde histórias criam vida. Descubra agora