Chapter Text
Anxieties are high. How could they not be? They're literally at war . Hell, it would be more awkward if the atmosphere wasn't tense.
"Unit 501, secure the perimeter, over," Kujou Sara's tone is nothing short but firm. But, of course, it wouldn't be Kujou Sara if her commanding style wasn't apparent.
Maintaining such a large group of people and a professional firm standing was tiring. After all, Kujou Sara wouldn't have worked so hard for this job if it didn't keep her on her toes all the time.
She readies her bow, ready to strike. She lets her eyes dart across the field for a moment or two. Then, a barrage of action and ongoing conflict grazed the area.
Unsure as to where to aim, she continues to survey the area. Her eyes are met with blood and gore, yet she doesn't bat an eye. The best way to describe it would be being numbed to such scenes.
However, with one swift motion of the wind, she is caught off guard. With the wood of the bow feeling oddly rough in her hand now, something catches her eye. The rain softly descended from the sky.
Kujou Sara swears the weather forecast had said sunny days.
She lowers her bow, looking up at the sky, waiting for the inevitable. The water reverses direction in a heartbeat, forming more giant bubbles.
It doesn't take long for her to see her : Sangonomiya Kokomi.
Her eyes widened; it could be from shock; it could be from pure longing. But, quite frankly, she doesn't care.
It's been a while since she's seen her grace, but the recollections with her are ones she would rather omit.
Even if they're on a battlefield, she can't seem to let go of the string. Even though she has the perfect angle to hit her square in the chest, she doesn't. Her bow is lowered.
As she hears the screams of her comrades grow louder, it's obvious she can't let this prolong.
"Everyone, retreat this instance," she calls as loud as she can while watching her comrades flee, and yet her legs keep her in place.
Even the pure imaginary photo in her head is enough for her to burst into tears. She wouldn't even begin to consider crying, but the thought does cross her mind.
Throughout the years, Sara still yearns to see her.
And to her, it's fucking pathetic as a thought.