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“How long do you think we’re gonna be like this?”
She asks as she rests herself on her elbows, mindlessly raking her hand through Satoru’s unkept hair. Smiling at the way it stuck out in various directions, reminding her of the 16year old boy he once was, and to an extent would never really be again.
He shrugs, grinning in a way that only took up half his face.
The way he knew she liked to mimic unknowingly.
“I dunno, till we die?”
Death A statistical, inevitable consequence that none, to her knowledge that was, was exempt from. She inhaled death, digested in ways that was reminiscent of a boy, turned man, turned psychotic individual, who she thought of in passing but would never allow herself to linger on for anytime longer in fear that would be constituted as remorseful.
And yet for one reason or another the vastness in the abilities the man laying beside her, caused her to delude herself into thinking that the casualties that plagued everyone and everything surrounding her, didn’t apply to herself and to them
“Till we die? Wishful thinking Toru.”
She whispered it to herself more than anyone else.
“So what would you prefer to hear?”
She stops, dragging her fingers from his hair, to his face, to his chest.
“The truth.”
He pauses, biting his lip, responding before thinking, as he often did.
“So until tomorrow.”
He repeated it more to her than himself.
She cracked a small, painstakingly sad smile rolling into his arms and burying herself into the security of his body. The body she’d one day have to observe from the standpoint of a medical professional rather than the standpoint of a girl who loved him.
“Yeah.”
That’s all she says, because that’s all she had the energy to respond with.
And then she falls asleep, and he stays awake, the validity of his words rending him restless.