Putting Pen To Paper - Naegami Story

Eyeteeth Arc - 8

Byakuya,

Thank you for your letter. It brightened up my day of labor. I have been out in this cold, in the snow, dusting it off of rubble. I escape to the kitchen and heat myself along with the broth and noodles. That's pretty much all we eat here. So I guess I don't need a lot of advice from you. I've managed to make an okay package of ramen before. It's hilarious, walking into the storage place behind the kitchen and seeing endless bags of caked noodles with the little seasoning packets. Courtesy of Future Foundation, I suppose. The ship I came here with was serving it, so maybe it was a part of that delivery. I haven't told you the full story of my departure, have I? It wasn't complicated. I woke up early, before the birds could raise me. I saw your face, sleeping and peaceful. It was a struggle to remove myself from your arms. You cling to things, to me, when you are sleeping. I had already put together a bag of clothes before I went to bed, so I took that along with whatever else. I stopped in my office, realizing my time was running out to catch the boat I planned to. Grabbed a few picture frames, ran out of there. Drove to the docks. Easily went on board, the recognizability of my face letting me on with no problems. I think it was several hours before you announced that no boat was allowed to take me. I tried to sleep on the boat, but wallowed instead. Then I was there. That was it.

I am so tired. I wake up and make the people working the night shift food, then try to sleep. I wake up and make the early risers food. In any spare time, I join the other workers, and return to the kitchen to make the food, then back out to help. I distract myself by lifting things and moving things, following instructions at a place where everyone is too tired to give me any sort of prominence in their mind. I blend in among these people, I think. I had forgotten what it was like to blend in. In Japan, I can't get away from the people who know my face. Here, we only know one thing. The instructions given to us.

Your letter made myself thaw a little from the cold, the exhaustion. That's all I've been feeling, until I read your letter and I was able to smile a little. And I was lucky my tears didn't freeze. I love you. Don't tell me there is nothing wrong with me. The fact that I am here proves there is. Is it bad that when I conjure up the image of you, I think of the face without the scars?

-Makoto