⇾ ˢͨₐʳₐͫₒᶸͨʰₑ ⇾

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As Childe was going over some paperwork about a debt he thought aloud as there was no one else around. "It seems that ˢͨₐʳₐͫₒᶸͨʰₑ." He stopped himself as there was a sudden murky feeling in his head. He held it as if it hurt, but in an instant it was just a feeling of forgetfulness. "Who again?" He looked back down at his paperwork. "Right, 6 million mora." He goes back to his paperwork, feeling utterly empty. His heart ached, for some reason tears flowing down his cheeks. What..? Why would he cry over paperwork? He pushes it aside, wiping away his endless tears. For whatever reason his heartache only grew.

Over the coming days his mornings seemed strangely empty, as if someone else took the spot across from him each morning. Many of the harbingers simply didn't associate one another, but wasn't there one who talked to him? As he listed all of them the only thing empty was the 6th seat.

As he went out to lunch he found himself ordering a second portion, an order he knew by heart. An order that was too strange to be his own, he'd never eat something so plain. So why did he feel saddened by the plate of food? As if someone had disappeared, as if these days were only short because they were around. Who is this they? As he places the bowl across from him instinctively, he picks at his own food. Who was missing? If they were so important, how could he forget about them? Why can't the strange emptiness go away. If there was anything to wish for, it'd be to know what was wrong with him.

At night the wind blows through the balcony door. Tartaglia leaning on the railing, instinctively calling out. "ˢͨₐʳₐͫₒᶸͨʰ?" The name came out like second nature, but what was it that he had just said? His head only hurt more. His heart felt as though it was being torn in two. "Where are you?"╭──︒✿ཾ∘∗✽ᜒࠬ. ──╮
Artist @ _senjiart on Twitter
╰──︒✿ཾ∘∗✽ᜒࠬ. ──╯

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