Work Text:
I was made knowing my purpose. That doesn’t make it easier.
He doesn’t say much, nowadays. The most he does is poke at a screen, losing fingers.
I wonder if he regrets it.
His face gets more indistinct with the trickling centuries. Sometimes I want to speak, but I don’t think that he’ll listen.
I’ve forgotten whether I was made for him to remember, or forget, that single line.
「And I was quietly staring at that scene.」
「And I felt a little sad. I wanted them to look back for me.」