Note: I wanted to get used to not writing for Danganronpa again, as I do that often, so here.
She drags a hand through her hair, despite it being cut short and abruptly at the nape of her neck. That's how she liked it, and it felt satisfying back when she had just taken a pair of scissors; a whoosh and the curtain of glossy brown hair falls to the ground.
The feeling is much nicer when it's cut short, but it helps with her work too.
Sprinkles of sawdust are deep in her hair, scattered throughout the workshop.
"Kiri! Kiri!"
At the sound of her nickname, the teenager picks off her gloves, grey and stretched across her palm.She nibbles at her fingernail one time, then turns to face the doorway.
A hand on her hip, the blonde woman at the doorway shakes her head. "You got lost in designing again, Kiri. Or should I say, Kiriumi. What kinda' name is that, 'nyway? Like... it's a total mouthful, but-"
"It's not like yours is a mouthful, Ana," Kiriumi replies. "it's my grandmother's name. Besides, what's wrong with liking to shape things from wood?"
"It's like... can't you do that with soap or something? Instead of doing whatever you're doin'."
"It's making art," Kiriumi puffs out her cheeks, waving her hand at the hours and hours of her work, whittling away at the small piece of art that she has resting on her stand in the middle of the workshop.
"And who's that?" Ana asks, tilting her head. Her eyes don't stray from the work in progress, blue eyes frozen in place and solitary.
She smiles and walks over to brush her fingers against the top of the wooden art piece.
"It's my grandfather. Happy Remembrance day, am I right?"
YOU ARE READING
Hidden Meanings
عشوائيContains: One-shots, shippings, rough drafts, notes, and former writings. NOTICE: At some point in the middle, I had this thing where I switched between present and past, had no space after a period, or a quotation mark. Please excuse it, I shall ed...
