[Omori didn’t answer - he didn’t have answers for Sunny. Not on why the marks disappeared. Not on what their purpose was… and that thought, that emptiness, was what started to tip the shell towards his own chasm. Loneliness. Anger. At least his knife was resting on the side away from Sunny.
What did the Dreamer have to face yet? What did this hollow shell have to reckon with? It was that struggle that Omori was trying to not think about.
For all that Sunny was good at avoiding the things he didn’t want to face, Omori had been made to face those in his stead. He needed… something.
Maybe it was a distraction, but when the other boy held up his pillow case… Omori nodded. What else was he supposed to do?]
no subject
At least his knife was resting on the side away from Sunny.What did the Dreamer have to face yet? What did this hollow shell have to reckon with? It was that struggle that Omori was trying to not think about.
For all that Sunny was good at avoiding the things he didn’t want to face, Omori had been made to face those in his stead. He needed… something.
Maybe it was a distraction, but when the other boy held up his pillow case… Omori nodded. What else was he supposed to do?]