Marionette

Cosmos, Chapter One - Kowareta [壊れた]

[Book 3 -  Cosmos Arc]

Twirling, dancing in spiraling delight, colours bled into each other to blot and blur.

Sunset oranges bled twirled with crimson, and indigo swept through in the distance.

The memories broke through the divide between past and present, blending the two into a murky haze.

And there was nothing left inside her to tell the difference anymore.

What was an easy line was crossed so much, to the point that the line did not exist any longer. The only thing she could remember was that she had to keep on spinning.

Pull the tides away, so she wouldn't drown.

Drowning felt as close to familiar as the act of spinning was to her now.

How could she remember where the water was, when all she could see was the darkness below?

Voices danced in the world around her, bouncing and distant.

Something told her she knew those voices, but right now she just couldn't remember.

It felt like it had been months since she had room to breathe.

Perhaps, it had been longer, and she was at the end where she couldn't stay trapped underwater any longer.

The soft sensations of warmth against the side of her head was the only sensation of another presence in the turbulence of her inner world.

It was the only thing that reminded her that she was lost in her own head.

Back and forth, she'd try and reach out of the turbulence, to stop spinning in an endless nightmare.

Every time she calmed, the warmth would disappear.

She didn't want to sleep – She had mixed feelings about it, after all this time.

If she wasn't home, she didn't want to sleep at all – But her body wouldn't let her wake up.

It was almost like she hadn't slept in many days, and her body just couldn't afford any more conscious time,

But then, almost as if knowing her dilemma, a soft shaking of a different hand against her shoulder jostled her, breaking her out of her turbulent descent.

And then, her eyes finally opened for her.

The waking world was something she hadn't expected, though trapped in her own head like she had been there was no telling what would be expected, even to her.

Soft crème coloured ceilings of a hotel room, with sunset orange walls and white carpets.

And a familiar face of someone she felt she hadn't seen or spoken to in months.

The raven hair and the warm gold eyes was enough to tell the groggy Amaya that she was staring up at a friend who's name she couldn't recall just yet. He wore a look of relief as he straightened up from his slightly hunched position over her, though there was easily the overtones of remaining concern in his gaze.

She didn't quite understand where she was, or even why he was standing over her like that.

Everything was blurry to her at that moment, and she was rather disorientated.

But it was rather clear that something had happened.

'How are you feeling, Amaya-san?' The ikemen asked with concern. 'You looked like you were having a bad dream.'