⟶ BLOMST

7.2K 425 1.1K
                                    

『 Chapter 21 』

Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.



Chapter 21

⤐  ♤  «  〚♞〛  »  ♤  ⬷

She felt fake.

Not in the sense that her personality wasn't honest or her words didn't hold their meaning, but instead of the matter of being herself. Again, not that she wasn't acting like herself, except that she wasn't. At least, not in the way she wanted to. Not in the way that she should. But the word 'should' is dumb, to be obligated to do something is just the guilt of the universe, after all.

The name she held is deserving of a better person, a better successor, a better friend, a better daughter, a better sister. Her feeling of falseness is derived from her inability to meet the expectations that were never placed on her in the first place.

And honestly, she didn't put them there either. They were just there one day when she woke up. She knew better than that, to limit oneself to their own thoughts. God, how hypocritical was she?

Hidaka is not full. That's a funny word to use, but it fits like a piece of a puzzle. She's incomplete, a stray hair on a head of smoothed individuals. Something is absent from her fateful existence. The gaping hole seems to be placed right above the left side of her chest, but she knows she can sense one in her stomach and in her hands. There's a lot of places in her that feel empty.

Maybe this lack of a definable emotion is brought upon by the sun on her check. Last time she took notice of the sun, it was warm. It felt comforting and safe, like a controlled room with floor to ceiling windows and childish laughter.

But now, it felt cold. The light brushed over her ear and down her neck and rested on her collarbone. It was misplaced. How could the sun be described as cold? Well, today it was.

She brought her hand up to obstruct the rays from piercing her retinas. Still, it flitted through her fingers carelessly, as if it ignored her action altogether. Her gaze fell to her hand, realizing with a few, lackadaisical blinks, that the tape on her fingers and arms was new. She could tell this because it felt too light to be the fireproof cover her brother sent her in the mail.

She didn't even realize that she was conscious until now. When her hand falls to the rails upside the bed, she sighs while tightening her grip and shutting her eyes. Keeping them open would give her a headache. But hey, she wakes up in a hospital with little recollection of what had transpired without knowing how much or how little time has passed. How cliché.

The lights aren't on, but the sunlight streaming in is more than enough to see clearly. She can see the dust in the air. Machines line the wall behind her but she knows none of them are in use. Well, she also knows that's not true as she can sense the clamp on her pointer finger and knows it's connected to something. She turns and sees that it's from the heart monitor, which mind you, is silent while the line moves up and down. There is no goddamn beep.

The Day the Sun Died || BNHA x ReaderWhere stories live. Discover now