[Makoto, on the other hand, doesn't even notice what the problem is. As far he is concerned, he's still sitting inside a space that he's cleared for himself within Josh's brain, looking not out the window that he's currently sitting beside, but at the tangle of shadow and string of memory that last night has become for him.
He has materialized completely now, dressed in the black kimono that he used to go around in when he was still Bound (the kimono with the golden and green snakes moving through higanbana - a birthday gift from his Beloved, ragged and tattered now that it has joined him in the afterlife). He's 28 all over again, but wrapped up in the same bandages that had been wound about his body, down to the tips of his fingers and toes, in a futile attempt on Kaien's part to keep Makoto's guts from spilling out. The bloodstains on them are as old as 2047. They constantly shrink and grow and shrink again.
The dripping, of course, is coming from him. He is, from here until always, going to look like he just stepped out of the rain.]
He still tastes the same way.
[It's a soft statement, said in a voice that's as cracked as shattered glass. He thinks, even now, that he's still talking to himself, or perhaps into Josh's dreams.]
Oh yeah date: June 8, 2063 || 3 AM
He has materialized completely now, dressed in the black kimono that he used to go around in when he was still Bound (the kimono with the golden and green snakes moving through higanbana - a birthday gift from his Beloved, ragged and tattered now that it has joined him in the afterlife). He's 28 all over again, but wrapped up in the same bandages that had been wound about his body, down to the tips of his fingers and toes, in a futile attempt on Kaien's part to keep Makoto's guts from spilling out. The bloodstains on them are as old as 2047. They constantly shrink and grow and shrink again.
The dripping, of course, is coming from him. He is, from here until always, going to look like he just stepped out of the rain.]
He still tastes the same way.
[It's a soft statement, said in a voice that's as cracked as shattered glass. He thinks, even now, that he's still talking to himself, or perhaps into Josh's dreams.]