Distorted | Shimada Genji | g.s. / s.g.

act I: xi.

February 14th, 2058

The female could not fathom why everything occurred so fast in one day. Behind Genji's back, she snuck into his house, she tried to steal documents, she met his intimidating brother, she figured out he brought some fangirl to his house, she almost drowned, she spent the entirety of the night with him, and they both found his bloody father's body in the entrance hallway of his residence.

The moment the duo found his father's body, Neala held the unstable Shimada in her gentle warmth. She called the authorities, not letting him go from her embrace. When the place was sanctioned as a crime scene within minutes, she took it upon herself to accompany him. She did her best to wordlessly lift him up, and unexpectedly, he immediately clutched her hand like a lost child. Subconsciously, she almost receded away but thinly flinched. The male had guided the way, her hand still in his, into what seemed to be a guest bedroom in another part of the home and crawled into a bed. Beforehand, he temporarily let the girl go in order to complete his nightly routine. He did not utter a word, only moving a zombie and communicating through his movement. The Filipina, with concern, never broke her gaze from the male. The Shimada she grew accustomed to was simply not there.

She remembers sitting on the edge of his bed with her feet resting on the ground, his eyelids shut firmly and chest consistently and peacefully rippling. The grip the male had on her hand never faltered, and even when he fell asleep, his troubled closed eyes told her that he needed her. Out of everybody in his life, the Shimada knew he could rely on the Reis girl to be there at his worst.

The girl did not grasp that concept, and even if she did, her consciousness could not believe it. Neala never could believe somebody could see her and like her for the person she is. That is why that morning at about 5 AM, she let go of his grip and walked home. Darius was there to answer the door, and worried sick, he reassured her that she can always talk to him.

"Thanks, Darius. I am fine, do not fret." The lies left through her teeth with no regret. The elder male's worried eyes traced her path walking up the steps as she had her back to him. He knew something did not feel right but could not do anything about it. He did not question it further when he attempted to wake the female up for school an hour later or when she skipped school that day.

The day after Mr. Shimada's death, she found herself in the predicament of rumors. She trailed down the hallways with all kinds of eyes on her and countless whispers flowing through the school air. Lockers slammed open and closed as well as footsteps rapidly colliding with the pavement. The familiar name "Genji" or "Shimada Genji" did not stop repeating in her ears throughout classes, the hallways, the courtyard, and especially the cafeteria.

"Neala," Kokoro subtly had her hand on the lifeless Filipina's shoulder, "talk to us. We are worried about you." The girl in the tennis uniform held a sullen study on the inexpressive, distraught girl. Kokoro, Naoki, and Ren stood at the edges of their seats at their well acquainted table. Neala held a deadpan staring contest with her full tray that she had yet to touch. The group sulked in failure for not getting the girl to lay feelings off her chest.

Days later, the funeral had happened. The Shimada clan and family were hesitant to have such a public burial, but they did not deny the people who made the effort to come see the man who had changed the lives of so many individuals. In the midst of the gloomy, wet weather, Genji and Hanzo are seen seated beside each other, dispassionate gazes rested on their faces as their view on the closed casket a few inches away from them never wavered. The soft cries from Mrs. Shimada could be heard during the speech given as the casket descended six feet into the ground.

Neala and Kokoro stood side by side with a shared umbrella, raindrops hitting the pongee material. Neala's discontented expression did not fail to avoid all eye contact with the Shimada family as she accepted the fact that Genji was not going to communicate with her and was going to continue being in denial. Kokoro's taste of concern did not falter for her friend as she worriedly glanced at her repetitively.