[He nods, it's the answer that he's been fearing. It's the correct answer and repeats it:]
Chisa. Chisa Yukizome.
[Her name is always at the back of his mind, tickling every thought and memory that is tie to her in any way. From their innocent school days to inconsequential things like how the island's market occasionally selling cleaning supply brands she has mention in the past, there never goes a day without him thinking of her.
Or rather, days that he could recall of. His stomach churns remembering the horror and realization he had the day after Valentines day, but he ignores the uneasy feeling and presses on]
Do you remember when we first arrive in Koriko? We had our identity, possessions and no ties to the Witch. We were free to spend or do as we please, even meddling with the workers here as we pleased. The only catch had been that it lasted a couple of days at best. But, aside from that, we were in the same position as the spirits.
[...] However, as far as we know, the Witch never employs spirits as debtors.
[That either it was a spirit playing tricks on them, or... somehow, instead of being given back life for her own, that...
Mal grunts and picks the book back up, flipping through the pages until he finds what he's looking for. The very myth that started his sudden interest in studying the island's denizens and frequent guests.]
Take a look at this.
[He holds the open book out to Luna, his gaze firmly fixed to the side.]
[Without a word Luna takes a look at the book's entry, his eye scanning through the page with habit that comes natural as someone who's far too used to going through documents and paperwork.
He stops, inhales sharply and reads again from from the start.
From word to word, he reads through it again and again, until the tiniest print and detail burnt into the back of his eye. He recognizes every word and string of sentence; all habits of reading through endless amount of literature and books drained away, it felt like the entry was written in an alien knowledge that he can't seem to figure out. It feels disconnected to the information lodged in his head even when both overlap each other. Both instance makes sense, yet he finds the revelation hard to register as his swallows down the invisible lump that's suddenly in his throat.
Hone onna retain an undying love that persists long after their flesh has rotted away, allowing them to continue to be with the object of their affection despite having died.
Earlier before he said it himself, it's possible for a spirit to be playing them around as they wish. It's not even any kind of exaggeration, it's just how the social pyramid works here. He disagrees with it, but acknowledges completely. He rereads the sentence again just to be sure before moving the next one.
These ghosts appear as they did in life – young, beautiful women in their prime.
What are spirits again besides ogres and beast-like creatures? Humans. Humans who have died with uncertainty or strong emotions in their last moments in life.
He reads through it again until he reaches the very last dot. His chest is pounding, it's likely best he stop rereading the book. He lets out the breath he's been holding, a weak laugh escape as his grip on the book finally loosens.]
.... Everything really had became complicated since we graduated from Hope's Peak Academy, hadn't it?
[Only those unclouded by love or with strong religious faith are able to see through their disguise to their true form: rotting, fetid skeletal corpses returned from the grave.
That doesn't sound like him at all.
If there's anything he's sure of from all of this madness, it's that he's positive he would die first before even realizing she's doing anything.]
[He doesn't even look at Luna as he waits for him to finish reading the entry. He knows he couldn't bear whatever expression crossed his face, or even the slightest twitch hinting at a struggle to keep one from showing at all. He draws his knees up a little, just enough to rest his elbows on them, keeping his eyes closed until Luna finally speaks up.]
...It's only a theory. But... I thought I saw her, too.
[Clouded by love. His own feelings never bordered on romantic, but he sure as hell cared enough about her that he couldn't even go through with what he was so convinced needed to be done. As with anyone so tainted by Despair. All three of them understood and agreed upon it long ago, and still...
He finally opens his eyes again, staring sidelong at Luna.]
So what do you want done if she really is here?
[They can't put it off forever. They should have had a plan from the start.]
[He doesn't even have to think twice on it. Perhaps it's how his heart is weak around her or how she seems to be so willing to speak so honestly with him that day, but he can't find it in him to execute her immediately but he couldn't bring himself to stab her, not for the second time.
He's pulling himself back together as much as his ability allows him to. It's tempting to just listen to his emotions when they're luring him to act out, to just rip the skin around him and shout out yet again.
It's all his feelings clouding the logical side of things. The theory has a standing but it's just that; it's a theory pushed through assumptions and suspicions they have, backed up by information that's at best plausible. All his senses tenfold, he's self-conscious to the point of hyper aware for once, because of what he's about to say:]
Until further judgement, we're not to do any kind of extreme action. It's too ambiguous to be a concrete answer. I won't deny it to be a possibility, but also I can't take that as absolute fact for now.
[It's a plea, one that shows his denial as clear as day.]
[He closes his eyes again, letting out a deep, silent breath as he leans more heavily against the wall. It's the same verdict Luna gave on Enoshima's sister, but Mal knows better than to think the hesitation to act immediately is for remotely the same reasons.
You didn't need any evidence when you tried to get rid of me.
His stomach roils with disgust at himself. Of course Luna doesn't want to repeat that same mistake, that's all. Mal's good hand clenches into a loose fist as he reminds himself that he should just be thankful that he has an answer on what to do now. But when will things be too much to simply sit back and observe anymore? Would Luna have the resolve to see it for what it was then?
Or will Mallory have to make that decision when the time comes?
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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Chisa. Chisa Yukizome.
[Her name is always at the back of his mind, tickling every thought and memory that is tie to her in any way. From their innocent school days to inconsequential things like how the island's market occasionally selling cleaning supply brands she has mention in the past, there never goes a day without him thinking of her.
Or rather, days that he could recall of. His stomach churns remembering the horror and realization he had the day after Valentines day, but he ignores the uneasy feeling and presses on]
Do you remember when we first arrive in Koriko? We had our identity, possessions and no ties to the Witch. We were free to spend or do as we please, even meddling with the workers here as we pleased. The only catch had been that it lasted a couple of days at best. But, aside from that, we were in the same position as the spirits.
[...] However, as far as we know, the Witch never employs spirits as debtors.
[He turns to face Mallory at last.]
You know exactly what I'm thinking.
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Mal grunts and picks the book back up, flipping through the pages until he finds what he's looking for. The very myth that started his sudden interest in studying the island's denizens and frequent guests.]
Take a look at this.
[He holds the open book out to Luna, his gaze firmly fixed to the side.]
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He stops, inhales sharply and reads again from from the start.
From word to word, he reads through it again and again, until the tiniest print and detail burnt into the back of his eye. He recognizes every word and string of sentence; all habits of reading through endless amount of literature and books drained away, it felt like the entry was written in an alien knowledge that he can't seem to figure out. It feels disconnected to the information lodged in his head even when both overlap each other. Both instance makes sense, yet he finds the revelation hard to register as his swallows down the invisible lump that's suddenly in his throat.
Hone onna retain an undying love that persists long after their flesh has rotted away, allowing them to continue to be with the object of their affection despite having died.
Earlier before he said it himself, it's possible for a spirit to be playing them around as they wish. It's not even any kind of exaggeration, it's just how the social pyramid works here. He disagrees with it, but acknowledges completely. He rereads the sentence again just to be sure before moving the next one.
These ghosts appear as they did in life – young, beautiful women in their prime.
What are spirits again besides ogres and beast-like creatures? Humans. Humans who have died with uncertainty or strong emotions in their last moments in life.
He reads through it again until he reaches the very last dot. His chest is pounding, it's likely best he stop rereading the book. He lets out the breath he's been holding, a weak laugh escape as his grip on the book finally loosens.]
.... Everything really had became complicated since we graduated from Hope's Peak Academy, hadn't it?
[Only those unclouded by love or with strong religious faith are able to see through their disguise to their true form: rotting, fetid skeletal corpses returned from the grave.
That doesn't sound like him at all.
If there's anything he's sure of from all of this madness, it's that he's positive he would die first before even realizing she's doing anything.]
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...It's only a theory. But... I thought I saw her, too.
[Clouded by love. His own feelings never bordered on romantic, but he sure as hell cared enough about her that he couldn't even go through with what he was so convinced needed to be done. As with anyone so tainted by Despair. All three of them understood and agreed upon it long ago, and still...
He finally opens his eyes again, staring sidelong at Luna.]
So what do you want done if she really is here?
[They can't put it off forever. They should have had a plan from the start.]
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[He doesn't even have to think twice on it. Perhaps it's how his heart is weak around her or how she seems to be so willing to speak so honestly with him that day, but he can't find it in him to execute her immediately but he couldn't bring himself to stab her, not for the second time.
He's pulling himself back together as much as his ability allows him to. It's tempting to just listen to his emotions when they're luring him to act out, to just rip the skin around him and shout out yet again.
It's all his feelings clouding the logical side of things. The theory has a standing but it's just that; it's a theory pushed through assumptions and suspicions they have, backed up by information that's at best plausible. All his senses tenfold, he's self-conscious to the point of hyper aware for once, because of what he's about to say:]
Until further judgement, we're not to do any kind of extreme action. It's too ambiguous to be a concrete answer. I won't deny it to be a possibility, but also I can't take that as absolute fact for now.
[It's a plea, one that shows his denial as clear as day.]
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Understood.
[He closes his eyes again, letting out a deep, silent breath as he leans more heavily against the wall. It's the same verdict Luna gave on Enoshima's sister, but Mal knows better than to think the hesitation to act immediately is for remotely the same reasons.
You didn't need any evidence when you tried to get rid of me.
His stomach roils with disgust at himself. Of course Luna doesn't want to repeat that same mistake, that's all. Mal's good hand clenches into a loose fist as he reminds himself that he should just be thankful that he has an answer on what to do now. But when will things be too much to simply sit back and observe anymore? Would Luna have the resolve to see it for what it was then?
Or will Mallory have to make that decision when the time comes?
He hopes it never does.]
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