first line meme (published fics)
Rules: List the first lines of your last 20 published stories. (If you have less than 20, just list them all!) See if there are any patterns. Choose your favorite opening line. Tag some people to play the next round!
tagged by @jake-amy!! I haven’t been tagged in a game like this since like. maybe 2013?? so this is wild for me!!!! thanks so much!!
I have 38 published fic over five different fandoms and idk if that’s a good thing? if anyone wants to know, I’ve published a total of 353,637 words on ao3 and idek how many words I published on lj lol some of these will be two sentences, but the second part is a completion of the first and I think both are necessary! okay here we go, going in reverse order:
20. A year passes and Clarke opens the closet door and is almost surprised when one of the trash bags falls from a high shelf on top of her. darling, we outshone the stars bellarke
19. Jinki grows up with dreamscapes in his back pocket and a blaster in his right hand. you knew you’d know me onho/shinee
18. Monty hasn’t spoken for days. scatter what remains minty
17. Miller is walking across campus, earbuds in place and matching his stride with beat, when someone grabs his arm. kisses on my knuckles minty
16. Her first memory is at five. trust me harper/monty friendship
15. “Oh my god,” Clarke says, bending down to pull the lasagne out of the oven. lasagne bellarke (connected to a winter vacation)
14. The car is packed, and they’re waiting on Clarke. a winter vacation bellarke (connected to lasgane)
13. A list of chores lies on Bellamy’s bedside table, a small, crudely crafted piece of furniture. everything comes undone bellarke
12. See, Monty might be younger, but that doesn’t make him different in any way. to live in our world, thoroughly bellamy + wells + monty brofic
11. It’s seven-thirty am. a better way home minty (sequel for to live in our world)
10. “I’m not cut out for love or romance,” Hawke says mournfully into her mug. now I’m found again vhawke
9. To say she loves Kirkwall is a lie, Hawke thinks. She knows that to say she loves anything is a stretch. go forward slowly vhawke
8. “Adaar makes horrible first impressions,” Varric tells her, “so don’t take it to heart. She’ll like you, trust me.” please picture me vhawke
7. “Yeah, I’ll have the number three, the fourteen, um, one of the twenty-one, and, you know what, can you make that two orders of the number three, and then…” Kate scans the menu in her mind. how shall I correct it? kathony
6. Snow gently falls outside, and every so often tree branches scrape against the windows. things take the time they take kathony
5. The sun is shining and the water is calm; what’s meant to be a beautiful Sunday the week before the Fastnet Race has quickly turned around. there be fury on the waves kathony
4. “You know, he was not always like this.” a tear of tremulous emotion kathony
3. Trouble in paradise comes after three months. ocean solitudes are blest kathony (sequel for fury on the waves)
2. The library is the quietest room at Aubrey Hall. sigh a sigh kathony
1. There must be a mistake. half afraid to hope kathony
out of all of these, just here, my fav is actually 9, for go forward slowly, because like, the theme was very much about how a home is made, and how you might not love that home but it can still be your home, even after trauma. I just think I started out really strongly!! and followed through on the themes I wanted to! I don’t particularly see any patterns, but if someone sees one, please lmk!!
to anyone reading this, genuinely, please feel free to consider yourself tagged. I’m persistently dumb and can never think of people when on the spot, so please do this if you want to!!!
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Welcome back!!! It’s great to see you again, I hope you’ve been doing well 💕 Could I request a Kokichi/Reader (romantic) for the dialogue prompt “You're so persistent”? Either fluff or silly, whichever you prefer! Thanks and have fun!!
Thank you so much for the heart-warming welcome back and for the request!! I'm happy to see you again too, and I hope you've been doing well, too, ehe~ ♡ ♡
I took a little while to think about this prompt and to reacquaint myself with Kokichi as a character, ahaha. I realized then that I...don't even know how to write Kokichi, even though I love him so much?! But nevertheless, I tried to write something fun. Honestly, it feels kind of awkward/mechanical, but maybe it can't be helped because it's been so long since I last wrote for Kokichi?
Anyway, here we go! It's almost 3k words (oops) so there's a cut. Icon credit to dreamcrush!
“You’re so persistent.” Kokichi x Ultimate! Celebrity Reader
“You’re so persistent.” You slammed the metal locker door close and glared at Kokichi. “And annoying.”
Kokichi simply shrugged with that same shit-eating grin on his face that he always had.
“Well, maybe you wouldn’t have to deal with the annoying me if you’d just say yes,” he says in that sing-songy voice.
You resist the urge to box his ears and instead turn away, speed-walking toward the classroom. To your dismay, he quickly follows behind you, matching your pace easily and practically skipping. You supposed someone like him burned a lot of energy annoying people and pulling tricks everyday, so this was probably nothing to him.
“Don’t you ever get tired of being rejected?” you glanced at him, genuinely curious.
“Nope!” He folds his arms behind his head leisurely and grins at you. “But I bet you’re getting tired of rejecting me, huh? You really want to say yes, don’t you? Huh?”
“I’m not even going to answer that,” you sighed.
Kokichi made a face of shock, mouth and deep purple eyes wide in a way that could only be described as overexaggerated and purely for dramatic effect.
“But you just did!”
You suppressed an exasperated sigh and looked away from Kokichi, who was strolling next to you without a care in the world. He’d even started to whistle some annoying little tune that sounded suspiciously like the tune that had recently gone viral for being one of the worst earworms ever.
Kokichi had been asking for your autograph for the past month since the fall semester of Hope’s Peak Academy had formally started and the two of you had met in-class for the first time.
“Ultimate Celebrity, huh?!” he’d exclaimed, eyes comically wide and sparkly. “Does that mean you get to be an Ultimate for just existing? Do you even have to do anything? How is that even a talent, huh?”
Kaede interjected with her hands on her hips.
“Hey, don’t make fun! You know, they’re an Ultimate for a reason,” she huffed. “Look at that face! That style! The stuff that they use gets sold out within minutes, and the places they go get so popular they only take reservations for months after!”
To be fair, you tried to stop Kaede. Tried and failed.
“It’s okay, Kaede-” you put a hand on her shoulder gently, only for her to not even notice.
“Do you even know how much one of their autographs goes for? It can go for a million yen!” she burst.
It was then that a chill ran down your spine as you watched Kokichi’s face flash from that of a naive and playful prankster to a calculative one worthy of being called the Ultimate Supreme Leader–whatever that bogus-sounding talent was. Actually, how dare he question your talent when he had a suspicious talent like that?
“Oho, is that so?” he smiled and tapped a finger to his lips, seemingly in thought. You didn’t know what he was thinking, but you did know that whatever it was, you didn’t like it at all.
You gave the door to the classroom a furtive look.
“Okay, well, if that’s all, I’m going to go to the bathroom now- Eek!”
Kokichi had made his way to the door before you and was somehow effectively blocking your exit route with both palms pressed on either side of the door frame, even with his slight frame. Not only that, but he was currently making one of the most horrifying faces you’d ever seen on anyone, and you’d seen a lot of terrible things in the entertainment industry.
“Where do you think you’re going?” he smirked. Whatever that black pit of a face was, his eyes were two black holes in that pit. And, his mouth was stretched unnaturally wide in what could only be called an evil smile. “Hand it over.” He held out a hand, and you stared at his empty hand, simply appalled.
You’d faced plenty of terrors and challenges as the Ultimate Celebrity, from surprise paparazzis at night to stalker-fans trying to break into your apartment, but you had to say that this was your first time being extorted for an autograph–not even asked, but threatened.
You crossed your arms and gave him a dirty look.
“No. Now step aside.”
You couldn’t imagine that he’d keep blocking the doorway forever, especially since from the corner of your eye, you could see Kaito walking toward the classroom from the hallway.
He slinked to the side surprisingly easily, making a disappointed puppy-dog face.
“Aww, you’re no fun. It’s just an autograph, you know?”
You slid past him and made a beeline to the bathroom, which he thankfully did not follow you to–but you did feel his eyes on you until you disappeared from his line of sight. You’d think you’d have gotten used to being watched, being the Ultimate Celebrity, but somehow, this felt different.
Fast-forward to today, about a month into the semester, and he hadn’t failed to pester you for an autograph every single day, although he luckily spent some of his time playing with (irritating?) your other classmates, too.
“Keeboi, robots don’t have nipples, do they?” Some clanking noises came from the other side of the classroom, which you desperately hoped wasn’t Kokichi touching Kiibo.
“This is harassment! I must ask that you cease and desist at once–no, seriously, stop, Kokichi!”
You winced but opted to remain a bystander. Getting involved ultimately meant offering yourself as the sacrificial target for Kokichi’s tricks and attention. ‘Sorry, Kiibo,’ you thought sympathetically.
But unfortunately for you, Kokichi must have quickly gotten bored with Kiibo, because not even ten minutes later, he was at your side again. To be exact, he was sitting across from you at the desk in front of yours, hands holding onto the backrest of the chair.
“Come on, just one little autograph,” he begged with those big, gleaming eyes. Man, since when did being an Ultimate Supreme Leader involve having incredible acting abilities? Because otherwise, how could he look so pitiful and sad? Like a cat left in the pouring rain, sitting in a rotting cardboard box, waiting for a kind owner–
You averted your eyes. It would be fine if you didn’t look at him, you desperately thought to yourself.
“I’m not giving an autograph to any classmates,” you state. “We’re all Ultimates and more or less equal, so I’m not going to give a fellow Ultimate an autograph. Plus, you think I don’t know you’re just going to go and auction it off?” You turned and stared him down with the last sentence.
“Nishishi, you got me there!” he laughed, but he didn’t seem surprised or offended. “Why don’t you do your classmate a little favor, then? You gave one to Nagito!”
You huffed and pursed your lips.
“I said no, Kokichi! And it’s different if it’s a fan,” you argued. “Nagito was already a fan because he loves Ultimates. Plus, he’s our upperclassman!”
Kokichi put a hand to his chin in thought.
“So it’s different if it’s a fan, huh? Okay, got it! I’ll be your fan, so give me an autograph!” he cheers.
“No, Kokichi! Were you even listening to me?”
He didn’t reply immediately for once, just watched you in an unsettling way. He even started twirling a strand of hair around his finger as he looked at you, and you started to feel self-conscious. You thought you’d gotten used to being watched, but yet again, it felt different coming from him.
“Hmm, I guess I wasn’t… Well, if you won’t give me your autograph, then I want something else!”
“What is it, now?”
You sighed and rested your cheek on your hand, propping your elbow up on the desk and preparing yourself for whatever other ridiculous demand he’d come out with next.
“Give me your heart!”
You almost fall out of your chair and scramble to hold onto the desk for dear life before incredulously staring at him. You could feel your face heating up, but you were sure it was just because he’d said something so unbelievably absurd.
“What did you say?”
“I said, give me your heart,” Kokichi enunciated with a smile. “Do you need hearing aids? How come you didn’t hear it the first time?” His eyes reflected obsequious concern, and you frowned.
“I heard you the first time! I just thought I heard wrong because you said something so– so weird. You know, your habit of lying and playing around with other people is going to get you in serious trouble someday.”
Kokichi held up a hand and started examining his nails, shrugging.
“I was being serious, though? This time, at least.”
You stared at him, unable to discern his true intentions or motives.
“Kokichi, I–you’re just pulling my leg, right? Because if so, it’s not funny…” you trailed off, not sure what to even make of the current situation. On the off chance that he was being serious, you didn’t want to be dismissive, but after the past month of being teased and watching him trick and lie to other people like it was nothing, you couldn’t just take his words at face value. Especially when he said it so offhandedly.
Kokichi clenched his fists and pouted, puffing up his pale cheeks.
“Hey, don’t make me repeat myself! I tell the truth once in a while, you know! Don’t tell me you don’t believe me after I told you I was telling the truth already!”
You blinked slowly, feeling your cheeks reddening.
“Uh, then… What do you even mean by, ‘give me your heart?’ You want to date?”
“No, silly,” he stuck his tongue out at you and rolled his eyes. “I want you to fall in love with me, duh! Come on, are you really so boring that you can’t even understand a figure of speech?”
“I just didn’t expect it from you,” you quietly muttered.
How did you feel about him, anyway? The past month suddenly felt like a blur–what had you even done the past month? You couldn’t quite remember, but whatever it was, it definitely felt like it was all memories filled with Kokichi’s presence, as infuriating as he could be sometimes.
Then again, you knew he never truly meant any harm, and overall, you considered him–a classmate? No, that felt wrong after all the time you’d spent together for such a short span of a month.
A friend. That felt so much more right, suited your relationships so much better.
You paused.
“Wait a minute! You never even said that you liked me or anything. You just told me to fall in love with you!” you said, affronted by the realization.
“Oops, you got me!” Kokichi snickered. “Well, if you insist, though I’m sure you get plenty of proclamations of love everyday as the Ultimate Celebrity.”
He pulled out a flower from behind his back and thrusted it toward you with a big, innocent smile on his face. “I like you!”
You facepalmed but plucked the flower from his hand begrudgingly.
“Somehow, that felt so disingenuous,” you complained. “Like it was just an afterthought. And you wondered why I didn’t believe you.”
Kokichi poked your cheek, which had puffed a little without you even realizing.
“Hey, don’t be so pessimistic after I told you I liked you! How can you have so many complaints about the Ultimate Supreme Leader liking you, huh? It should be your honor! A snap of my fingers, and I can have my thousands of underlings kneeling before you in seconds,” he boasted.
You gave him a look–you could just about see his nose growing longer for every lie coming out of his mouth.
“I doubt you have thousands of underlings,” you sighed. “Plus, this was so anticlimactic. I’m still pretty sure you just want to get my autograph.”
Kokichi put a finger to his chin, thinking hard–or hardly thinking, it was always hard to tell with someone like him.
“Well, do you need me to prove it? I’ll say I like you a thousand times! Here, why don’t I start now?” He opened his mouth wide and started chanting, “I like you, I like you, I like you, I like you, I like-”
You hastily slapped a hand over his mouth and fearfully glanced around the classroom. Luckily, everyone else was busy with their own conversations during lunchtime.
“Stop that, you’re going to get everyone’s attention!” you grumbled.
“Oh?” he chuckled as he pulled your hand from his mouth, and a look of delighted mischief sparkled in his eyes–a look, you now realize, of trouble. “You know what an even better way to get everyone’s attention is? Watch this!”
And then, he leaned in and pressed his soft, pale lips to yours–but they were gone so soon, no sooner than you had realized they’d even touched you at all, too soon, in fact. You sat there in shock, face rapidly heating up; you were melting like butter in a hot pan, like ice under the summer sun, and you had no idea how to cope.
Slowly, you brought your fingers to your lips, still staring at Kokichi, who had the smuggest little smile on his face.
“You-!”
“Did you like it? Should I kiss you again?” he licked his lips, smirking. “Here, hold still-”
But before he could do anything else, he was interrupted by Kaito, who had grabbed onto his shoulders firmly with an uncontrollable blush on his face. Kaito could barely even look at you, instead fiercely glaring at Kokichi.
“What are you doing to them?! You didn’t even ask, and you’re in the damn classroom, Kokichi! Our entire class just saw that!”
Kokichi stuck his tongue out at Kaito, struggling against Kaito’s hold on him.
“Yeah, and who cares? They didn’t say they didn’t like it. Right, [Name]?” He paused and waved his hand in front of your dazed face. “Hellooooo, Earth to [Name]?”
You shook your head rapidly, trying to come back to your senses. Of all the things to happen today, you hadn’t expected to be kissed by Kokichi Ouma. Maybe just another plea for an autograph, and maybe a prank or two, but a kiss? And not only that, but you hadn’t expected yourself to like it so much. Or like him so much.
“No, I…” Still thoroughly startled, you glanced away, still blushing, only to notice that the entire class was practically staring at the two of you (and Kaito, now that he’d tried to intervene). Tenko had put her hands up over her eyes, except she’d parted her fingers, so she wasn’t actually blocking anything from sight as she blushed furiously. Meanwhile, Shuichi had dropped his egg roll onto his desk, and Gonta was trying to ask Miu what kissing was and what it meant. Angie was watching with fervent interest, and Maki seemed shocked you’d let him kiss you to begin with, judging by the murderous expression on her face.
To hell with it, you decided. Let them watch. Most of your life as the Ultimate Celebrity was already watched, anyway. What was one more thing?
“It’s my turn now,” you grinned. Kaito let go of him, seeming to notice the tension in the air. “Don’t move.”
You leaned over the desk and with a finger, tilted his chin up toward you, watching the Adam’s apple of his slender neck bob nervously.
You leaned in and pressed your lips to his, not just once, not just twice, but three times. When you finally let go of him, you had the pleasure of seeing a thoroughly and truly bewildered look on his face for once; his eyes were blank, as if trying to process what had just happened, and a generous amount of pink had painted itself over his usually pale cheeks.
Kaito gave a wolf whistle and clapped, while the others started murmuring to each other.
“Nyeh… Is this the power of the Ultimate Celebrity?” Himiko uttered in surprise. “Truly magic to be wary of…”
“It’s not m-magic,” Tenko stuttered and flusteredly pointed at you. “It’s, it’s sorcery! They made Kokichi shut up for once in his life!”
“No, no, this surely must be a divine act bestowed by Atua,” Angie crowed.
“Did we want Kokichi to shut up that badly…?” Shuichi asks tentatively.
“Yes.” Maki stabbed her pickled plum with scary precision. “Yes, we did.”
Kaede tried to assuage everyone’s complaints.
“Now, he’s not that bad…”
“Well, I’m glad that pipsqueak shut up for once!” Miu exclaimed.
“Yes, he’s an absolute menace,” Korekiyo agreed.
But the quiet Kokichi didn’t last for long–or at least, not as long as some of them hoped it would. He swiftly leapt up from his seat and pulled you up, too, before hug-attacking you.
“Wow, I didn’t know you had it in you! From now on, you have to kiss me everyday,” he declared proudly. “And if you skimp, you have to give me an autograph!”
You pat him on the head, chuckling–his hair was so soft, you absent-mindedly thought to yourself.
“Again with the autograph. You really are persistent,” you laughed.
He pulled back for a moment and sweetly stared into your eyes.
“But that’s what you like about me so much, right? Nishishi!”
“Yeah, yeah,” you shrugged, but you could feel your cheeks warming up again.
Kokichi leaned in close, the breath from his mouth tickling your ear.
“Just between you and me, though, I’d take your kisses over your autograph any day, so don’t forget~”
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who wants zombie au writing. don't answer that ur getting it anyway (1.6k words)
His shoes knock against the old flooring of the house, wood creaking under rubber soles that slide over the woodgrain. He drags them a bit, lifts his limbs up no more than he strictly has to, and they lead him to the nearest sittable surface.
The couch is old and dusty and has likely gone untouched for months, much like everything else nowadays, so he watches the thin cloud of dust billow off the cushions largely with disinterest. He collapses into the fabric heavily, feels the whole thing scoot back an inch and hit the wall behind him. The sound echoes, carried by lifeless rooms, while he unceremoniously drops his backpack to the floor by his feet.
The breath he lets out is slow and methodical and born of pent up muscles, aimed at the ceiling where he rests his neck against the back of the couch and relaxes every limb one by one. It’s a process he forces himself through, if only to rid the constant ache beneath his skin.
Slow, sweeping footsteps meander around the room in front of him, and Ritsu angles his gaze down from his craned back position to look at his brother. He wanders, like he so often does—seemingly aimless, but there’s something procedural about it that he’s convinced he just hasn’t figured out yet.
Shigeo’s empty eyes crawl along the hearth of the fireplace, explosions of ash sprayed out across the red brick. His head tilts up to trace his attention around the angular lines of the television, hung on the wall and screen grey with dust. He flits back and forth between the roundness of the bricked mantle and the sharp edges of the screen, like he’s taking notes.
Shigeo paws the television. Four lines of muck are cleared. The zombie blinks, paws at it again with dusty, curious fingers. Ritsu watches him make a mess of the television screen in silence, blinking tiredly.
He almost closes his eyes, but he fights against the urge and moves his fingers down his lap to reach for his bag. His middle hooks around the loop at the top and he lugs it up and into his lap, where he unzips it and peers into the shadowy contents.
Ritsu fishes out the water bottles. He finds the one with the messy R scribbled along the cap in sharpie and takes a big swig of it. It’s warm going down, constantly insulated in a bag of old, sweaty clothes. He feels like he can taste the odor in it, but it clears the grain in his throat from stomping all over dirt roads today, so he’s still grateful.
He holds out the one labeled S to Shigeo. “Thirsty?”
Shigeo looks at him from where he’s crouched down to the floor now, inspecting the soot along the hearth. Unfortunately, he sees handprints in the black already, and when his brother reaches a hand out to take it, his palm is covered in soot.
He lets him have his fun and settles his own bottle back in the mess of tangled clothes and rolls of bandages. Ritsu rakes his fingers through their stock with no real purpose—he knows exactly what’s in here, and none of it is useful.
They’d been searching all day; Ritsu doesn’t really know how far they’d walked, but it had to be a lot of miles. In and out of stores, up and down empty houses, weaving between warehouses—they didn’t really stop for a break. Not when Ritsu can hear Shigeo’s stomach from here and he himself has shaking hands. They can’t afford a break.
Nothing, though. Not a single goddamn thing worth taking. A settlement must have come through here long ago and swept the highway. They’re in the countryside, where houses are spaced out acres from each other and there’s entire cow pastures between properties. And yet every house they’d seen and entered provided nothing.
Ritsu stares into the negative space in his bag where there should be supplies. His stomach cramps and if he smells another whiff of that godawful sweaty, bloody sweatshirt he still carries, he’s going to throw up bile.
He leans away from the open pouch, eyes wandering to his brother who draws… something into the soot of the hearth. His water bottle sits on the floor, abandoned and still unscrewed. Ritsu leans forward with great effort and a grunt, leaning over his bag to grab at the top of it.
It takes him two tries to get Shigeo’s attention, and one more for an answer on where the cap is. It’s then placed in his palm, covered in soot and also saliva. Ritsu swallows down the nausea that rolls up his throat and wipes it off with his frankly already disgusting sleeve, and screws it back on.
He leans back again, succumbing to the urge to let his eyes rest, and he listens to the very subtle swipe of his brother’s hands across brick. There’s birds outside, chirping, and even though it’s still very much a common occurrence, Ritsu cannot help but feel nostalgic about it.
If he ignores the awful hum of silence, and the distinct lack of an electric thrum throughout the walls, and the fact that this is a stranger’s couch and not his, he can almost imagine normalcy. He can almost say this feels like those quiet moments after school, when he settles on the couch and scrolls through his phone in a house that only holds him and his brother because their parents simply aren’t home yet.
He can almost hear the creak of wood from Shigeo walking around his room upstairs. He can almost tap his fingers on the couch cushions to the pattern of his brother making his way down the steps. He can almost hear the fridge opening, and the sound of milk being poured into glass.
Almost. But Ritsu listens to sharp silence instead, and he tries not to think too hard.
He drifts for a while, feels himself truly sink into the couch and let the cushions claim him, and he thinks about nothings because if he doesn’t, then he’ll lose it. He carefully sifts through the nothingness of his mind, through the passing thoughts that have no bearing, and he focuses on that, on the lack of substance. His head is too full of things that have too much substance.
He misses boredom. He tells himself he misses boredom—the complete insubstantiality of it—because if he lets himself think of what he really misses, it’ll drive him insane.
The cushions move, and Ritsu peels his eyes open and lets himself get pulled from liminal mindspace. The cotton in his head recedes, and he blinks, and then he’s swiveling his head to look at his brother who sits in the cushion right next to him.
His hands and the cuffs of his hoodie are smothered in black. Shigeo sits hunched, gaze still wandering even when there’s not much decoration in this house to look at. He studies the off-white walls, the chips in the paint, the holes drilled in where there maybe used to be photos hung.
Ritsu gazes at him quietly, chest instinctively rising and falling to match his brother’s rhythm. He watches the expansion there, under his hoodie, in the subtlety of the folds and the way they warp over the movement. It’s slightly quicker than what he’s used to, but Ritsu knows his brother’s heart rate is much slower. He’s felt it before. He’s listened to it before, with his ear against a chest.
Ritsu’s attention moves to his eyes, and the heavy bags underneath them, and the paleness of his pupils and the ghostlight of him underneath that. He stares into them, looks for stray, familiar thoughts that might enter his head. Looks for old memories that might shine through in the form of recognition when he sees furniture layouts, and candy wrappers, and ads for soda.
Ritsu looks for it all the time, that glint of familiarity. And he finds it, sometimes. And really, he thinks that’s keeping him going more than food ever will.
Shigeo turns his head, and looks at him. Sometimes, when his brother looks at him, there’s not much there. No substance, no anything. And Ritsu finds it a bit evil that he craves silence in his own head, and yet noise in Shigeo’s, and often times it is the other way around.
His brother looks at him now, though, with that comforting recognition. That growth of the pupils, that softening of the hard edges of his face where unknown stressors have gotten to him. Ritsu wonders what zombies get stressed out. He figures it’s the same deal with humans, considering they’re largely alike.
Ritsu wonders if Shigeo knows he’s sick. He wishes he could ask him. He wishes for a lot of things. Silence in his own head is one of them.
Ritsu swivels his head away and stares at the ceiling, if only to force the thoughts to pause. He studies the popcorn ridges above them, traces the peaks with his gaze. It calms him, gives him something to focus on. He looks for patterns in the shadows they make.
Shigeo shifts next to him. And then he shimmies down, settles into the cushions, and plops his head right down on Ritsu’s shoulder.
Static roars in his mind and his heart stammers. Ritsu swallows the lump in his throat but that just makes it bigger, so he clamps his mouth shut and breathes carefully through his nose.
The tears cut through the grime on his face. He plops his own head down against his brother’s, and lives in the noise.
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