ᵣₐbbᵢₜ ᵢₙ ₜₕₑ Bₗₐcₖ Cₕₐₘbₑᵣ

Cₕₐₚₜₑᵣ ₈.₅: ᵢ ᵤₛᵤₐₗₗy ₛₒₗᵥₑ ₚᵣₒbₗₑₘₛ by ₗₑₜₜᵢₙg ₜₕₑₘ dₑᵥₒᵤᵣ ₘₑ

     The air was thick with tension as Kororo sat across from Kunikida in the Uzumaki Cafe. It was a rare occasion for them to be alone together, a situation that neither of them particularly relished. Kunikida, ever the perfectionist, was always focused, his demeanor as rigid as the principles he lived by. Kororo, on the other hand, was an enigma—unpredictable, her very presence unsettling to most who knew her.

Kunikida adjusted his glasses, the light reflecting off the lenses as he observed Kororo with his usual seriousness. The silence between them was heavy, filled with the unspoken question that had been lingering in the air since they sat down. Finally, Kunikida cleared his throat and spoke, his voice steady but with an edge of curiosity.

"Kororo," he began, choosing his words carefully, "how do you deal with problems? I've noticed that you... handle things differently than the rest of us."

Kororo tilted her head slightly, her expression unreadable. For a moment, she didn't respond, letting Kunikida's question hang in the air like a cloud of smoke. She could feel the Rabbit stirring within her, its presence always near, always watching.

A faint smile played on her lips as she finally answered, her voice soft but laced with a strange kind of amusement. "I usually solve problems by letting them devour me."

Kunikida blinked, clearly taken aback by her response. It was not the answer he had expected, and he couldn't hide the confusion that flashed across his face. "What do you mean by that?" he asked, trying to maintain his composure.

Kororo leaned back in her chair, her gaze drifting toward the ceiling as if she were searching for the right words. The flickering light cast shadows across her face, making her appear even more ethereal, more disconnected from the world around her.

"When I face a problem," Kororo began, her voice thoughtful, "I don't try to fight it or overcome it in the way most people do. I let it take me, consume me, until there's nothing left but the problem itself. I become one with it, and in doing so, I understand it in a way that others can't. And once I've become the problem, I can see the solution from the inside out."

Kunikida's frown deepened. "That sounds... dangerous. Reckless, even. You're saying that you allow yourself to be overtaken by your problems?"

Kororo shrugged, her smile widening. "Dangerous, maybe. But it's effective. Problems are like puzzles, Kunikida. You can't always solve them by looking at them from the outside. Sometimes, you have to step into the puzzle, let it surround you, become a part of it. Only then can you see the pieces for what they really are."

Kunikida shook his head, his expression a mix of disbelief and concern. "That's a risky approach, Kororo. What if the problem is too big, too overwhelming? What if it devours you completely, and you lose yourself in it?"

Kororo's eyes darkened, her gaze sharpening as she met Kunikida's eyes. "I've been devoured before, Kunikida. And I've always come back. Stronger, wiser, and more in tune with the silence. The key is not to fear the problem, but to embrace it. To let it show you its true nature. Only then can you truly solve it."

Kunikida fell silent, his mind racing as he tried to process what she was saying. He had always approached problems with logic, with a strict adherence to order and principle. The idea of allowing oneself to be consumed by a problem was alien to him, something that went against everything he believed in.

"And the Rabbit," he finally said, his voice low, "does it play a role in this... process of yours?"

Kororo's smile faded slightly, her expression becoming more serious. "The Rabbit is a part of me, Kunikida. It's always there, whispering in the silence, guiding me through the void. It helps me see the patterns, the hidden truths that others miss. But it's not just the Rabbit. It's me, too. We're one and the same."

Kunikida studied her for a long moment, his analytical mind trying to grasp the full meaning of her words. He had always known that Kororo was different, that her methods were unconventional at best. But this—this was something else entirely.

"You're saying that you let the Rabbit... consume you?" he asked, his voice tinged with both curiosity and concern.

Kororo nodded slowly. "In a way, yes. But it's more than that. It's not just about the Rabbit. It's about understanding that problems, like the void, are not something to be feared. They're a part of the universe, a part of the chaos that birthed us all. To solve a problem, you have to become it, embrace its chaos, and let it reveal its secrets to you."

Kunikida leaned forward, his eyes narrowing as he searched Kororo's face for any sign of doubt, any indication that she was not fully committed to this philosophy. But all he saw was a calm certainty, a confidence that bordered on the eerie.

"And what happens if you don't come back?" he asked quietly. "What happens if the problem devours you completely?"

Kororo's gaze softened, a strange melancholy settling over her features. "Then I become a part of the void, Kunikida. Just another whisper in the silence. But until that day comes, I'll keep solving problems my way."

Kunikida nodded slowly, his expression thoughtful. He wasn't sure he fully understood Kororo's approach, or if he ever would. But there was something undeniably compelling about her words, a truth that resonated with a part of him that he rarely acknowledged.

As they sat in silence, the tension between them began to dissipate, replaced by a quiet understanding. They were different—so vastly different in their methods, their philosophies—but in this moment, Kunikida couldn't help but respect Kororo's approach, even if it was one he would never adopt for himself.

Finally, Kunikida stood up, straightening his tie as he prepared to leave. "I suppose we all have our ways of dealing with problems," he said, his voice measured. "Just... be careful, Kororo. I don't want to lose you to the void."

Kororo's smile returned, but it was softer now, almost wistful. "Don't worry, Kunikida. The void and I have an understanding. I won't let it take me—not yet."

With that, Kunikida nodded and turned to leave, his mind still wrestling with the conversation they had just had. As the door closed behind him, Kororo was left alone in the room once more, the silence enveloping her like a familiar embrace.

She closed her eyes, feeling the Rabbit stir within her, a constant reminder of the path she had chosen. Problems, like the void, were inevitable. But she knew that as long as she embraced them, as long as she allowed them to devour her, she would always find her way back—stronger, wiser, and more in tune with the silence.

And in that silence, she found solace.