OLD NAME - AISURU
Manipulator-mastermind.
A psychological phenomenon where hostages or victims develop positive feelings, empathy, or loyalty towards their captors or abusers, sometimes to the point of defending them. It can occur in situations whe...
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༺☆༻
It felt like an out-of-body experience, like you were floating above yourself, watching the scene unfold. You were running, your feet pounding against the earth as you tore through the dense forest. The sky was tinged with the soft hues of evening, the sun dipping below the horizon, casting long shadows through the trees. The wind whipped through your hair, tugging it free from its restraints, letting it trail behind you like a banner.
You glanced to your right, and there she was—Umeko. But that couldn't be. She had died in the fire, hadn't she? The flames had consumed her, just like they had consumed everything else. Was this a dream? A cruel trick of your mind?
Yet, there she was, her face determined, her eyes locked forward as she ran beside you. There was no time to question it, no room for doubt. All you knew was that you had to keep moving, had to escape. The urgency in your chest pushed you forward, your legs burning with the effort.
In that moment, it didn't matter where you were going. It didn't matter that the world behind you had been reduced to ashes. What mattered was that you were running, that you weren't alone, that Umeko was with you.
A strange sense of peace settled over you. This was the happiest you'd felt in what seemed like forever—a fleeting moment of joy, as if the universe had granted you this. As long as you kept running, as long as Umeko was by your side, you felt like you could outrun anything.
But deep down, a part of you knew it wasn't real. And that made this moment all the more precious, fragile as it was, like holding onto a wisp of smoke before it drifted away.
Aiko hummed a soft tune as she stood before a small mirror, neatly fixing her hair with practiced ease. You watched her through half-lidded eyes, the dream you'd just woken from slipping through your fingers like sand. Of course, it was too good to be true. A fleeting fantasy, nothing more.
With a sigh, you tried to push yourself up, but your body felt like lead. The ache in your heart was almost unbearable. "Hey! Breakfast is downstairs!" Aiko called out, her voice bright and carefree.
You wanted to respond, but the words caught in your throat. The thought of food turned your stomach. You couldn't imagine eating.
Aiko, oblivious to your inner turmoil, twirled a strand of hair around her finger, still humming that same tune.
"Hm. If you get up now, you can avoid Lord Sukuna," Aiko mentioned casually, her eyes still focused on her reflection. "He tends to wake up much later."
Her words hung in the air, the silence between you growing heavier. You could hear your own heartbeat. Aiko paused, sensing the tension. She turned away from the mirror, finally looking at you.
