⠀
and makoto's frustrated with herself , knowing she has no good words to say .
so instead ...
she reaches out , wrapping her arms around her ... wordlessly clinging tight to her .
⠀
⠀
as kotone crumples to the floor below , the hold makoto retains on her wrists brings her down with her .
she lets go of her , as she's stopped hurting herself ... but all she can do is bear witness to her breaking down and crying her heart out .
++
⠀
she looks away from makoto, not wanting to admit what she’s about to say, but doing it anyways.
“i thought i was fine, that i was controlling the act. i guess i fooled even myself if you couldn’t recognise me..”
⠀
it's ... a strange sight , really .
the tears shake her body , and flow like a steady stream from her tear ducts , and never seem to stop .
for all she knows , it's been forever since she did .
++
⠀
⠀
she pushes aside the clutter , the static in her mind and body , reaching out to grab both of the other's wrists ; knuckles fading into white with the force she exerts on them .
" shi ... shiomi . "
⠀
⠀
" wh ... hey , shiomi — "
as the gravity of the situation sets in , she takes after the other as quickly as she can ; shoving her way in front of her to witness her frenzied state .
emotions begin to mix ... to swirl , and fester , and bubble up within her , ++
⠀
⠀
—— to an extent she's never willing to handle .
her indifference is gone , concern welling in her widened eyes .
her heart races .
her wrists itch . her nails are too clean . a thought crosses her mind —
" shiomi ! "
++
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⠀
—— [ suddenly seeming panicked . ]
... uh . hey . shiomi ?
[ the pace of her breathing seems to quicken , and they quickly slip off a headphone with no audio to hear her better . ]
you good ?
are you
⠀
[ makoto fiddles with their MP3 player as they speak , running their fingers over the device as they wait for a reply ... that doesn't seem to come .
from under their long bangs the color of midnight , do they glance upwards to see kotone's , ] ++
⠀
⠀
's not like you're / not / cheery , to an extent ... but it feels like you smooth out the rough edges , so no one can actually tell what you feel .
i'm no better at reading minds . but i've known you long enough to notice .
⠀
⠀
i mean ... 's not like i know what you went through when you were gone .
but for whatever reason , i feel like , at least to others ... you make up this super cheery version of yourself that doesn't actually exist . y'know ?
++
⠀
that… doesn’t really bring me confidence.
am i really not, me?
like i know ive gone through many physical changes but, am i still not me socially?
kinda ironic i go through all this effort for people to see me as myself and im not even being myself …