𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐣𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐒𝐮𝐤𝐢 | ɴᴀʀᴜᴛᴏ

Purpose?

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✧˖*°࿐

There was a warm embrace inside a white void. z̷̷̛̛͚̟̼̰̩͈̠̳̯̬̳̦̜̺̦̀̆ͭ̄̒ͫͮ̿͐̃ͦ͐ͣ̔͐͋̇̕͘͘͠͞u̥̐ͯ_̴̵̨̗̜͎̪̪͔̎̿̑̓͗̓ͦ̒́̔͘͝m̨̭̯͚̥̙̝͈̝̫̪̳̮̘̗̽̂͊̎̒̆ͭ͋̓̐ͫ̂̂ͧ́͒́̅ͬ͘̕̕͢͠į̸͍̗̬͙̙͔̣̮̠̬̻̼̮ͬ̏̊͛ͧͮ̐̌ͫͦ̊͘̕͜͢͢͞͝'s...

...

... The dark-haired girl laid flat on her back, staring up at the endless white. It was all so silent for her, her empty gaze never once blinking. The peace distracted the aching gap within her chest, a sadness she never felt so intensely before.

"Suki." A soft, cowering voice hummed into her mind.

Without moving an inch, her body like that of melting misery, she lifted her eyes further up to see a momentary whip of long, blonde hair. After that, the voice and presence was gone. 

"Suki, wake up." The same voice repeated the unfamiliar familiar name.

A pull gravitated the girl up from being a slug, sitting her up straight. A progress from laying like dead weight forever. Her brows knitted together and her empty, now blurry eyes struggled to comprehend the whiteness.

"Suki..." The voice was cut off now that the pain in the girl's chest was heightened.

With her own will, she finally moved, only to hunch over and grasp at the gap within her chest. Like a machine, her heart was hammering to no degree. She knew what this feeling was before, adrenaline. 

"Suki... wait!" The voice cried out from one ear to the other, causing the girl to fall forwards with her head pinned to the ground.

Her hands squeezed hard against her ears to drown out the irritating ringing. The rapid, strained beating of her heart added sharp, disastrous harmony. The oncoming headache was like oxygen cut off from her system.

Soon after, all of it stopped. She was left gasping to herself, her hands moving down from her ears to clutch at the closest thing she could instinctively find: soft fur. As she opened her eyes and leaned back whilst pulling the fur towards her, she then realised what she was holding was not fur. 

But hair.

Hair of an old, worn greying man. Her hands were stained in rich, red blood, which painted onto the grey hair.

The head of Kumo Sanjiro...

...

... A head. Either way, the girl let out a skin crawling scream while frozen in absolute shock.

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A harsh light hit against pale skin. As her eyes opened, she was met with the rising sun. Her brain felt fried, used over and over to no mercy. She could not remember a single thing from the dream, just the static effect of a feminine voice and a new rhythm within her beating heart.