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Summary
Sua has been waiting for death her whole life. She knows death the same way she knows herself. Mizi doesn’t. Mizi won’t recognise death, she’ll need Sua to guide her.
But the words don’t come. The syllables—they form on her tongue and inside her mouth like bubbles, but they pop the second she goes to open her lips and express them. Dissolving into foam.
Because there’s no point anymore. Sua is nothing without her love. Her words hold no weight, not even in her own mouth.