"Kujou Tengu! I'm still in Ritou! Did you flee again? You must've fled in the night after hearing my name, eh? Haha, is my name scarier than the battlefield? That's fine! I'll wait for your return here at the harbor! Don't you dare die on the battlefield, Kujou Tengu! You still owe me a duel!"
"Shut it. Are you done yet? If this is some kind of blessing before I set out for war, then I will accept it. You don't get yourself killed either, you idiotic Crimson Oni."
A small smile graced her lips, fingers trailing on the words written on the bulletin board. It was on the small moments like this that she grace herself with the opportunity to free herself from the burdens settled upon her shoulders. Her golden eyes skimmed through the Crimson Oni's words once again, although he was childish, he had a carefree spirit. Unlike hers, who dwells in solitude, her sole purpose was to see through the Shogun's wishes, to make sure the Shogun achieves what she desires. Sara knew that it was a bad idea to reply to these messages, knowing that it was foolish and immature. But through this small exchanges, she was able to open up her heart, although briefly, it had made her feel as Sara alone, the person behind the strict exterior. Not as Kujou Sara, not as the General of the Shogun's Army, and not as a Tenryou Commissioner.
She closed her eyes, hearing the sound of soldiers running around behind her, all preparing for war. Sparring the board one last glance, she turned her back determinedly as she set out for the battlefield. Thunder roaring loudly above them, the dark grey skies looming over their heads.
The Shogun is her will, her future, her strength... even the harbinger of her fate - the confluence of all that is noble.
For Kujou Sara, helping the Almighty Shogun to achieve eternity is a paramount goal. She knows that she herself may not be there in the end, but she devotes herself to this mission all the same.
The bandages that covered his face in life have fallen away, all incinerated and hanging loosely around his neck. His face is completely destroyed. Unrecognizable. The skin covering his face is no longer there, all having melted away. His blood vessels have all burst, his nerves have fried along with the majority of his muscles. His jaw opens and closes a little bit. His eyes bore into me. They're large and round and completely accusing. His teeth are covered in bits of burnt muscle. I feel my heart thudding in my chest. He steps closer, closer. His bone gleams in the dim light. As he closes in on me, a pounding noise begins ringing through my ears. My heart beat- ba-dum. Ba-dum. Ba-dum. It looked like he had been tossed into a fryer, fried alive, and he had been. By me. I did this to someone. I killed someone's team mate, someone's son. I killed someone's important person.
--
Kimiko Kioku, a memory keeper. Never forgets anything, always notices, from the exact way the wind blew her hair against her face to coloring with her brother at five to the lullaby her mother would sing to her as she rocked her when she was not even a year old. She remembers. She remembers the blood, the glassy, clouded over eyes her brother had as he said his last words. She remembers the very first person she killed. She remembers how abandoned she feels, and how everything always feels like it's falling apart at the seams.
(Can you say 'worst summary ever to exist'? Okay, maybe not that bad. But still pretty bad.)