▪in which nothing is as it seems▪
《 they say the loveliest angels make
the cruelest demons
and my darling
you were so kind and beautiful
before the dragged you to
Hell.
your fall was no accident.
you were chosen for the
...
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chapter I.no one hears the screams of an orphan
Do you hear it? There, in this restaurant, amongst the wooden clatter of the chopstick over the steaming dishes set before the customers, lost in the ambient chatter of people commenting on their everyday live, a soft rustling.
One look around wouldn't be able to locate the source of the noise, out of place is such an establishment. If one were to look again however, to look past the few customers assembled around the meal they had just ordered on this late hour of the night, maybe they would be able to spot her.
There! Seated at a table on the corner, soft rays of golden light plummeting against the page darkened by ink black characters printed decades ago, a page was turned, carefully as to not spill the cup of tea resting next to the ancient book.
Chin cradled in her gloved palm, she inhaled softy, eyes closing as she made out the different aromas floating in the warm room. Dust and leather mingled with the scent of pork, and should she desire to, she could almost picture the boiled tofu laying in its immaculate porcelain bowl. Banalities flew over her, never reaching her as the heavy volume enraptured her attention, barely minding the half-empty cup of tea resting next to her -smoke still rising from the green beverage, sharp orbs focused solely on its contents.
Or so it seemed. If you would look closer, just a little bit more- there, do you see it?
There was something shimmering in her eyes, of the sort that would make you think twice about her calm demeanour as she tilted her head to the side almost imperceptibly. Ordinary was not an adjective suitable to define her, a thing no one in this establishment by the waters of the port had noticed. How could they? Or, more precisely, why would they?
She was indeed reading, at a surprisingly fast pace for someone so intently paying attention to everything happening, listening to every word exchanged in the company of a loved one and putting it aside in a corner of their mind for later use -It could become quite useful.
A bell chimed lightly, and her eyes darted upwards, towards the entrance in time to see the customers coming past the door. A bookmark slipped between the pages and she gently closed the hardcover, setting it aside next to the immaculate porcelain cup by her hand.
She rose her head, lithe fingers tucking a strand of hair behind her ear as she watched a trio making their way towards a secluded table giving a splendid sight of the entrance, the one she occupied. She cocked an eyebrow. There, a young silver-headed man trailing behind the tall, slender frame of Kunikida, nervously looking around as if something was chasing him. How interesting.
"Always on guard, Izanami-chan!" said Dazai as he took place next to her, a wide grin plastered on his face.
A soft smile painted her lips as she came across the familiar sight of his long, sand coloured trench-coat hanging loosely around his slim figure, revealing a black vest and the familiar emerald green of the bolo tie crossed over his bandaged neck. Her sharp gaze detailed the dark brown of his bangs, noticing the few droplets of water trailing down his pale features, his damp clothes, and the wood darkening in the shape of his footsteps.
