Day 32: Sun Room (4th Shift)

[screwthegods]

It was rare that Homura's nurse try to persuade him to a scheduled activity, but then, it was rare that Homura didn't go. But the demi-god had plans, and the poor woman had little other choice but to leave in a huff as he once again settled himself near the bulletin board in the Sun Room.

His conversation with Kenren the previous shift had left the demi-god with a lingering sense of anxiety. Perhaps it was something only those from his own world could do, but none the less, he was all the more ready for night to begin now. Goals and memories, the truth of his past and the possibility of the future: all thoughts lingering on the forefront of his mind, more than enough motivation to move forward.

Impatience was something of a rush for an immortal, he'd discovered. Homura liked the feeling, the excitement even before he had arrived in this prison. And now while he waited, he savored it again, a yearning that shone so much brighter than the boredom of Heaven.

[Waiting for History Club Q&A time.]

Comments

[1mperturbable.livejournal.com]

Tredding over to the bulletin board, Cloud avoided garnering any angered attention and began to pick through the many leaflets of paperwork. He was, at first, looking for one that he could write on but also looking through the new notes for something that caught his attention. Nothing did, so he picked out a piece of paper to write on and looked back at Diva.

"Well... I was told that the guests were a way for the doctors to make life here more difficult and to force the patients to assimilate to the institute's way of thinking," he murmured. He remembered clearly meeting with his mother, a woman who he had known was long dead. "They want to pain us with things we cannot have..."

He looked to Diva for a moment before considering what he should write. He flipped through a few slips of paper. "Well... I do not think that was the reason for my name." Everyone did seem to think that way. "What exactly do you wish me to ask?"

[roses-bleues.livejournal.com]

“Then why?” Why have a name like that if it didn’t even mean anything, Diva wanted to know. Even Saya-neesama’s name meant something.

She considered this quandary--a mortal man with a name that either fit or didn’t fit--at the same time she absorbed what he said. He spoke in a very quiet, calm manner, a way of speaking in which Diva found it easy to listen. Diva thought and though, while Cloud rustled the paper. Things she couldn’t have…?

“How and where they all went,” Diva started, “and why no one can stop these stupid people from taking them away.” There was no one specific question Diva had in mind; it was difficult for her to investigate rather than demand. Sighing, she continued to press the tips of her fingers together, looking down at her hands. “My daughters look like me. One has blue eyes, one has red eyes… my long hair… Has anyone seen them?” Diva continued to fidget, a wrinkle growing on her brow, until she finally looked up at Cloud and said, “That’s not fake.”

It sounded, ever so slightly, like a question.