𝙻𝚘𝚌𝚔 𝙻𝚞𝚌𝚔 || Hyakkimaru

•|| pricked ||•

I had always found it quite odd – how any plant I’ve ever handled withers within three days. Furthermore, my own mother handles any plant with astounding care, never failing to make one grow healthy. I mean, if you were to try visiting our garden at home, you might as well mistake it for a farm. But, how should I know if your mother is actually good with plants and you're terrible at them; it could be the complete opposite actually. After all, I'm simply the embodiment of you in this story -- not your actual persona. I suppose all we can do is apologize for rewriting your character --if we had-- but do bear with it.

I wouldn’t even be much surprised if I were to ever find out our garden has become the primary source of produce in our area. Well, I suppose the saying, “there can never be life without death” does exist. Through my mother’s fingers come life while mine brings death. I believe that’s what we call the motherfucking circle of life.

“Tell me, Dororo. Just for how many more days are we staying here?” I questioned, staring with a confused visage at the green, leafy herbs in the area. With knitted brows, I just knew that I have no idea which is good and which useless from these plants. Perhaps I should have listened to my environmentalist of a best friend back when he would ramble for weeks about nature. “Are these actually edible?”

“Yeah, and pretty good actually.” Whirling my head to side, I found the raven-haired boyish girl chewing on grass or whatever it was – like I said, I’m no good when it comes to plants. Perhaps that is why I wasn’t much a fan of vegetables. Chuckling at my visibly confused visage, Dororo uproots a few crops before placing it inside the basket I was currently holding.

“Well, I would like to stay here a while longer. Working here is pretty peaceful after all; we even have a roof over our heads. But,” Dororo moves her attention towards the jet black-haired male settling himself on top of a tree branch. I found myself staring at the pale boy as well, observing how he got his prosthetic eyes focused on a bird nest inhabited by a sparrow. Sighing, the young girl continued. “Aniki wouldn’t be satisfied just staying here. A lot has been going on for him after all.”

Recalling Hyakkimaru’s story from watching the anime back on my original world, I knew well of what she meant. I might as well call the long-haired male’s life more than just tragic. He’s been the epitome of a person who had lost everything. In terms of luck, I am far ahead of him

Spaced out while in the middle of pulling a plant by its stalk, I failed to notice how it was covered in thorns. It didn’t take me too long to get pricked. “Ow.”

Out of instinct, I retrieved my dominant hand quickly. As I checked the injury, the apathetic expression present on my face had immediately distorted to one of panic, seeing the red liquid that covered my palm. I couldn’t help but helplessly turn to Dororo, staring at her with pleading eyes. “Am I going to die…?” With teary eyes, I sniffed. “Dororo! Blood – blood is gushing out of my hand!”

“Calm down, Onee-san!” Dororo screeched at my face, rushing to my aid as she slapped both of her palms on my cheeks to snap me out of my anxiety. I blinked owlishly in response as my (e/c) orbs clashed with her coffee ones. Heaving out a sigh, she trailed her hands to grab my injured hand, staring at the fresh wound with knitted eyebrows. “Oh, come on, it’s not that bad, Onee-san.”

“Well, the worst injury I’ve gotten is from tripping on a rock so what do you expect!” I declared loudly in a grumbling manner. I do live a life that is basically quarantine. Being cooped up in a poorly illuminated room simply means I barely participate in physical activities. “In any case, it hurts like fuck!”

“Keep your voice down; we don’t want to disturb anyone.” The ebony-haired girl lightly reprimanded. Spinning her heels, Dororo moved her attention to where Hyakkimaru was, hanging upside down from a tree branch. I have to admit, it was quite adorable, but the pain from my palm sure isn’t. The young girl cups both her hands on each side of her lips, calling for the raven-haired male’s attention. “Aniki, come here a bit, will you?”