intro: woeful inheritance
~呪術廻戦~
She hated the ground.
She hated the feeling of having feet planted and being tied down to anything.
Deep down, fear swallowed her at the idea of suffocating under the waves. The tentacle's tight grip on her ankle reminded her that she could not escape this fate.
That dreary day was the day she felt her worst fears had come closer than they ever had.
Standing under the umbrella, she quietly focused on the act of breathing as the casket climbed slowly into the earth. Quietly she breathed as the rain fell even harder while everyone whispered goodbyes.
Should she be grieving? Maybe so. But instead, she suffocated on land and hoped that maybe she could crawl into the wooden box and rest beside her mother. Hoping if she laid down with crossed arms and closed her eyes she would be allowed to journey into the dirt with her mother. Could she keep her stiff composure if her father ripped the stuffy box to berate her for her cowardice?
She was almost gasping at this point but she tried so hard to be quiet.
The sound of pelting rain and puddles surely helped.
Should she be grieving?
She was asking herself again and again. There was not a moment since her mother found eternal rest that she felt that thick layered weight of anguish in her gut. All she felt was the dread of what was to come with her mother's slumber. There was a growing fear of the tentacle around her ankle pulling her to the bottom of the sea the moment her mother was buried. Never letting go and slowing.
She was not grieving, unfortunately. She was panicking about her future... But not grieving.
Her violet gaze swam around the funeral and could only spot blurry beings around her. Faceless bodies surround where her mother was laid and pitied Miroku Koki, who grieved his wife's death silently in public. Silently before the elders and all who respected him.
Admittedly, she had to give her father some recognition for the brave mask he displayed to the clansmen. The mask was of igneous stones and broke for no gaze upon his own. Not even his own daughter's.
He stood alone, at the head of the rectangular hole as he spoke alone to the people. A solid tone and a straight spine, just as he had taught her every day of her life. He bowed for no one and did not curve his spine for even a moment.
Not even for his daughter.
She stood in silence and watched her father as she silently drowned alone. Drowning because she knew her father was not truly as put together as he pretended. His darker eyelids and pale skin spoke up the grief he suffocated in. He would not be able to go on soon.
She stood in silence as her father's blue-hued eyes finally found her violet gaze. Shattered and glued, they cried for help under the weight he was under. Without his wife, he knew no comfort. Without his wife, his child knew no softness. He would surely perish without Tsubaki's gentle hands. He would not be able to go on so soon.
Sayuri swallowed thickly at the sight of a new wave of emotion in the winter gaze of Miroku Koki. It filled her drowning lungs and lit a match in her belly that traveled through her body. Her violet gaze enflamed and blazed silently.
Guilt.
It wrapped around her neck and strung her by her throat. Its cold grip choked her and demanded submission but she knew her toes could just barely touch the ground. The grip tightened as she fell down the rabbit hole.
Tsubaki Koki lays in her coffin.
Miroku Koki would not be able to go on so soon.
The tentacle gripped tighter around her ankle and singed the very flesh it touched.
Sayuri Koki would have to take over the clan's name. Sayuri Koki would no longer have her freedom.
Gasping for air.
Crescents carved into her palms.
She was panicking in the background of her mother's funeral. Terrified of what was to come for her. Horrified at the idea of being nearly as broken as her father. But she knew she could never produce the same shadow he once did in his prime. The prime that was ending with the fall of his wife.
"... Sayuri, our heiress."
The lavender gaze swirled with panic at the sound of her name announced and her head bowed as the attention finally fell on her.
The grip on her neck tightened harshly. The fire in her belly and lungs had become numbly cool. Iced and heavy with the unrelenting tugging strings. Every second threatened to string her higher from the ground.
Every step she took in front of her clan vibrated her heavy limbs while feeling she walked with leaden feet. Dragging and stuck in mud and tears, she climbed the steps beside her father. Standing beside the tall silent man who placed a quiet hand on her shoulder, her hidden palms trembled like leaves. Terror and fear struck her heart, but with every breath, she fought for control of her emotions. She mirrored the strong stone expression that appeared so resilient. Though secretly, she felt herself eroding quicker than she ever had.
She felt his dark ocean eyes glance toward her as the sound of loud drowning applause filled the area. But she suffocated worse than before as the thundering sound weighed heavier with every passing second. One of the royal families of the clan was continuing to go on despite the death of their matriarch and it was meant to celebrate this display of strength. But if anything, the applause solidified Sayuri's fear. Her father's gaze solidified her fear. Terrified but the look in the ocean gaze showed he knew she was afraid.
Because they were filled with pity.
YOU ARE READING
Supine | Satoru Gojo
Fanfiction"You old fools mistaken me every time because of the fortitude you believe I so lack... Getting your knees busted is a painful way to learn how to kneel, don't you know?"
