N.rk|| Night dancer

"You ever think about dying?" Riki asked suddenly, his voice softer now, almost tender.

Ryu's heart skipped, but she didn't let it show. "Sometimes," she admitted.

He nodded, as if her answer made sense, as if it was the only answer that could make sense. "It's not the dying that scares me," he said, flicking ash off the edge of the rooftop. "It's the not feeling anything before it happens."

She didn't know what to say to that, so she said nothing. Instead, she watched him, the way his hair fell into his eyes, the way the silver of his necklace caught the last light of the setting sun. He looked like a boy trying to be a ghost, or maybe a ghost trying to be a boy. She couldn't tell which.

Riki turned to her then, his gaze locking onto hers with a quiet intensity that made her chest tighten. "You know what the worst part is?" he said.

"What?"

"You remind me of me."