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[SOLO] An Unfamiliar Ceiling

Who: Asano Rin revengeisalie.
Status: Closed.
Style: Prose, third person, present tense.
Where: Hisato
When: BACKATED to Week 5, Day 1
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Uhh. Minor talk of violence/body issues?

After waking up the second time, Rin sits in her room. New room, again; an unfamiliar ceiling. It's not much different from the other ones. Now she's sitting at the open shōji and staring into a cramped garden. It looks rather drab to her. Almost lifeless. The morning's not young anymore, and getting to be quite warm. It'll be midday soon. Rin has not gone out for breakfast, hasn't left her room at all.

Hasn't eaten yesterday, either. She accepted the food she was given and threw it out into a hidden corner of the garden.

If she's not eating, it's not because she's not hungry -- no, she could really use a big bowl of rice now. Somehow she misses the look and taste of simple, white rice. It looks so pristine when just served and still hot, like freshly fallen, untrodden snow. So, no: if she's not eating, it's because she's unsure.

Unsure if she wants to give this body food, to validate it, to accept it. If she eats, that is a yes to the copy-body, a yes to copy-life. Rin knows she'll eventually give in to hunger, but she wants to stall. Wants to keep the illusion that she has some sort of control over the situation. And a mere illusion it is: nothing in this was her choice.

She did not lose her memories, but she has to relearn things. Has to relearn to not hand herself over to fate and nature's whims. And so she needs to deliberate, to manifest her will like this. It is a centering.

Makes her feel somewhat like a monk. Funny, that. It's not even that she returns to faith. She returns to basic things. To baby steps. Right now, the steady gnawing at her insides is comforting, even if it is already fading. Keeps her grounded. She's in such danger of dissolving. Is a soap bubble floating in the air, just so very ready to pop. If she isn't strong now, if she doesn't have gumption. Got to have that, got to hang on.

Got to trace back the steps of humanity and self. She is a copy-body with a copy-mind, but she can make it real, maybe.


Still, her mind wanders. There is not much happening to focus. There are no birds, no mice in the garden. Not even ants, not even bees visiting the flowers. It doesn't wander good places: just to open wounds and dearths and heavy air and hot, hot sun. To a metal bird of prey. To what? Blink.

That's right, she saw something like that above the great grass plains. An impossibility, a fallacy. A thing, a big shape made of metal, gleaming with reflected sunlight, and not a shape she could've described, except she's sure it had wings of some sort. And it just sort of hung in the air, not even moving. What on earth was that? Rin blows her bangs out of her face and opens her eyes wide, just glad that she's got questions to ask.

Her eyes dart over to her futon -- finally, an actual futon (she wants to stay close to the ground)-- next to which the Hitomi is lying, a lonely fleck of black on tatami. The space around her bedding is empty; her bag and weapons missing. She'll have to go looking for them, or for new ones. It's insecure like this. Dangerous, foolish to live without weapons. Rin isn't willing to let herself be so vulnerable any longer. She knows the implications: carrying a sword means you're ready to use it. Whatever, she is. It's a bit of a shame for the heirloom sword, but beggars can't be choosers. Grandfather's sword... copy Rin does not have a grandfather. She doesn't have parents. She doesn't even have a life.

She's illegitimate.

Well. An impossible girl might as well make a living in an impossible world.

On hands and knees, she crawls over, transfixed by that small object. Shiny, sleek, and promising. Of curses and blessings. Mainly, that much she has figured, the thing has one function: to reveal. And that already means a lot of different things. What matters, in the end, is what you make of it. Rin intends to use this thing to her advantage. There are still more questions, and she's all too glad to plunge head-first into a quest to find answers.

She picks the Hitomi up and lets it rest in her hand. Looks at it, sighs at it. Runs her thumbs down its sides, and very lightly over the buttons. Frowning a little, she presses the power button (and she doesn't even have to think about which one it is).

It's about time she figured some things out.


Kannagara - The Way of the Gods

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