#'though i can't recall your face ive still got love for you' | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

purplellamanator · 3 years ago

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Sorry for the delay! This is the first part of my contribution for @shinranweek The above link is to read the story on AO3 or if you prefer to read off of fanfic, just click here! Of course since this is a tumblr event, the chapter will be posted below the cut. I originally wanted this posted for day 1 for first meetings but unfortunately life got in the way. Just a little insight though, this is heavily inspired by movie 20 The Darkest Nightmare. This is not completed though and I'll post the next part later. Sorry if it seems rushed and thanks to @shinranweek for hosting the event! Loved all the shinran content this week!

Amnesia Part I

Her head. . . . It was pounding so hard she thought it'd implode in on itself.

She clutched at the source with one hand and continued walking forward blindly. Everything she did was blindly. Where she was going, where she came from, why her head hurt. . . who she was; it was all lost to her. And she kept moving forward.

Where was she anyways? Glancing around cautiously, her hand still pressed to her head and now as a slight shield from the blistering sun, she tried to discern her surroundings. It was hard though. Her head was pounding and she could barely think. There was so much noise going on around her to add to that and- she was going to pass out.

Eyes landing on a bench, the woman stumbled hurriedly to the wooden chair before collapsing on it. She felt slightly better now that she was off her feet but not by much. It did allow her to actually see through the fog that was clouding her already injured mind and she lost the need to hold herself together.

Laughing and talking; there was a lot of that. There were families milling about, smiling and chattering excitedly. Obviously she was in a family park of sorts . . . but what had brought her here? Was she here with her family? If so, where were they?

Eyes moving around slowly before seeing a massive ferris wheel in the distance, she felt a semblance of knowledge itch at the corners of her mind. Something was familiar. . Something was familiar about that wheel. .

Had that been why-?

She jerked suddenly when she realized she wasn't sitting alone anymore. Looking beside her, it was a man, not that old at all and maybe in his younger twenties. The surprise wasn't what made her jump though. He was- had he been smelling her?

Even after she jumped away and stared at him as if he lost his mind, the man continued to sniff at her as if he were some sort of dog.

Finally, she cleared her throat. "Um . . . " She wanted to cringe at how awkward the one sound had been. What do you say when one human being sniffs . . another. . ?

And if possible, the man leaned back against the bench completely nonchalant. As if he hadn't just been smelling her . . .

"Gasoline."

His voice had come so abruptly and her eyes blinked in confusion. "Excuse me?"

"Gasoline," the man repeated, a satisfied look in his blue eyes. "You smell very strongly of it."

Did she really? The woman raised her arm to her face and sniffed, brows furrowing when she discovered that he was right. The odd stranger was correct and she did smell very strongly of gasoline.

"Are you okay?" He asks when she was still trying to figure why she would smelled like she took a bath in a gas station.

Her eyes flit to his. "I- I think so."

The stranger's brows lifted curiously. She didn't blame him for looking so confused. How could she not know if she were alright? He didn't question her response though and instead said, "You don't look okay. You look and smell like you've been in an explosion." She was sure that was meant to sound like a joke but the possibility that that very well could be true reflected in his gaze; a hint of seriousness.

But for the first time, and only because this stranger pointed it out to her, she was actually taking in her appearance. Clothes disheveled and dirtied, hair tangled and a welt on her head; safe to say she looked and felt like she'd been through an explosion or two.

"Forgive me for cornering you like this but you appeared distressed," he apologized but somehow he didn't sound very sorry at all. "I just saw you stumbling around in those heels and I thought you'd pass out until you collapsed on this bench. Were you coming from work?"

"Work?" The woman mumbled to herself and again took notice of the gray pencil skirt and the white button-up blouse she wore. Where did she work? Did she even work? She could feel the headache coming back again. Or maybe it had never gone away and she had been able to forget about it momentarily. "I don't know," she finally said in a slow realization and his eyes widened even more.

"Do you know your name?"

Do you know your name?

The voice that resounded after his wasn't hers and she heard it only in her mind. A memory- but from what she didn't know. She had been asked that before but she couldn't remember when or why. For some reason, it made her head throb from trying to remember. "My name. . . ?" She was staring hard at the concrete before her on the ground as she continuously ran that question through her head.

"Can you remember?"

She could hear him right beside her- practically feel him leaning towards her when she didn't respond right away. But for some reason it felt like he was muffled and suddenly the man was miles away and she was stuck in her head. "What's my name. .?" So many thoughts rushed at her in that moment and she raised a hand to her welt to try to soothe the pain radiating from it. But it wasn't soothing it; it wasn't making it better and soon both hands were clutching her head as she attempted to recall something that should've been so simple. "My name?" she repeated again and now her breaths were coming out panicked.

Why couldn't she remember her name? It was hers and she couldn't say it?

"Hey!" She could barely feel a firm hand splay across her back as if to comfort her. "Breathe. I'll call an ambulance and we'll-"

"No!" She jerked away from him roughly and attempted to come to a stand. Her legs wobbled and she could barely make a decision between holding her head together or balancing on her own two feet. Something about his statement had her body reacting automatically though and she just knew she couldn't go to a hospital. Why? She didn't understand that yet but her instincts were telling her no and as of now, her instincts were all she had.

The man rose too and moved slowly towards her as if approaching a scared animal. "We'll get you help. We'll find where you came from," he tried again and went to help her stand.

Where I came from. . to take me back. . . ? Back to-

Nails digging into her head as the pain became intense, she stumbled away each time he moved closer. "No," she shook her head and it became apparent to her that tears were streaming down her cheeks from the pain. "I- I can't-!"

Couldn't what? Go to the hospital? Go back to some unknown place that her body was rejecting? It was all too much.

And suddenly startling them both and everybody in the vicinity, she began screaming from the pain as something tried to force its way to the forefront of her mind. It couldn't though and it was just so much pain and she couldn't stop yelling and before she knew it she was falling and falling.

Heavy lids blinking open a few times to adjust to the brightness, she felt weird. Her head was sore but that was a given. But she didn't feel herself as if she were a mind in someone else's body. That's what she really was in that moment considering she couldn't recall something so simple as her own name.

Her mouth felt dry and her eyes tight as she took in her surroundings. She was in a bed- a hospital room and hooked up to some IV that was probably full of saline. Something else she became apparent to was the fact she was all alone. No one else was in the room with her.

So why was the first thought to strike her was to sneak out that far window? It was like an unconscious reaction that she shouldn't be there in that room; that she had somewhere else she needed to be and that she knew deep down she was never to be in a hospital.

But why?

Thankfully, the woman didn't get the chance to act out her idea because in the next second the door was creaking open slowly and a head was peeking in. It was the stranger- the man from before. And when he saw that she was awake and sitting up in her bed, a grin cracked across his face.

"I'm glad you're awake. How are you feeling?"

Honestly, she felt terrible. "Better," she said instead. At least she could actually remember what happened before she landed herself here.

"Remember anything?"

She gave him a curious glance. "I remember my head hurting and passing out while we were talking." That was it and he understood fully what she meant. She still couldn't remember her name or anything else before they met.

He must've saw the way her eyes slowly slid around the room uneasily. "I took you to a friend. We're not in a hospital."

Those words really did bring a certain amount of relief for her. Though she still had this mild feeling of wanting to jump out the window, it felt like a weight had lifted off her.

Stepping further into the room, he took the seat beside her bed and she wondered if he had really been here the entire time waiting for her to wake up. "We'll figure it out soon enough. A detective is waiting to speak with you when you're ready."

Detective? Her insides clenched and that again was another red flag. She didn't want to speak with a detective. Swallowing away her body's natural panic, she attempted to pay it off. "Y-you called the police?" She wasn't fooling this man though and she briefly wondered how he could read her emotions so easily.

"Let's just say they're my friends as well," he gave a small but relaxed grin.

Other than for the heaviness of her head, she really felt better now. If he was telling the truth then he had saved her from having to worry about any legal consequences or actions. "Who are you?" He hadn't told her after all. He had been too busy . . smelling her and asking for her name. But he had helped her as well it would seem. Such an unusual person. . .

His blue eyes widened as if he just realized he never told her that. It seemed unlike him but his cheeks actually tinted a slight pink. "I can't believe I didn't even tell you my name," he scratched the back of his brown hair awkwardly and she could hear the unspoken apology in his tone. "I'm Kudou Shinichi." He said it so proudly and matter of fact that the woman was taking back her earlier accusation. He wasn't awkward because he had forgot to mention his name. He was just used to people already knowing it and since she didn't she hoped that didn't take him down a notch. After all, she couldn't even recall her own so why would she remember his?

Kudou Shinichi.

But then again, maybe she did. There was some sort of recognition that came with the name.

Again, that awakened a voice within her but this time she didn't push the fact. Last time she had given herself a migraine and she thought her brain would explode.

"Thank you then, Kudou-san," she said sincerely. "I'm sorry for any trouble this has caused you."

"Not at all," he waved her off. "I'm a de-."

A firm knock resounded around the room before the door creaked open slightly again. Only this time it was someone the woman did not recognize. Based off their clothes though, she was able to determine it was one of her nurses.

She was proven correct when the woman clad in her scrubs turned to another and said, "She's awake but the doctor doesn't want you questioning her long. We're still examining the severity of her brain damage and she doesn't need any stress." And then the door was held open farther so a couple could enter; one man and one woman.

She determined these were the detectives Kudou-san had warned her about. Instantly, she was on guard but she couldn't tell what was to blame. Her body seemed to do it unconsciously and she knew she couldn't speak freely with them. Why would it matter though? She couldn't remember anything not to speak freely with them. And Kudou-san had also said that they were there as his 'friends'.

As they stepped closer and she tensed even more, Kudou-san stood up in what seemed respect to greet the other two. Soon he was moving aside granting them full access to her bedside and she felt her chest cinch up nervously.

Her gaze instantly appraised the woman. She held a certain air of authority that demanded it. She seemed to be in her thirties maybe, the injured girl couldn't tell. But through her stern features she seemed kind enough so far. The man appeared much more at ease than her. She didn't want to mistake it for timidness but she could tell who was the boss in this partnership. Or better yet, who bad cop good cop was.

The woman was the first one to address her proving her theory even more. "I'm Detective Sato and this is my partner Detective Takagi." She paused to give her a chance to speak but all she could do was nod her head respectfully. It wasn't like she could respond with her own name.

"Kudou-kun suspects you've been in an accident of some kind. Not only would we like to find and hold whoever is accountable, our goal is also to identify whom you are."

"I don't think I'll be much help," she admitted apologetically. "I don't remember anything before meeting this stranger." Her eyes flit to the brown haired man that stood to the side.

The woman nodded her head as if she already knew this. "After what Kudou-kun described earlier today and what the doctor explained, I don't expect you to remember anything. So I'll ask you a few basic questions and if you can't answer them, that's okay."

She wasn't too sure that was a good idea. After the pain from last time. . .

The two detectives must've noticed the uneasiness on her features and Detective Takagi actually spoke up. "We don't want to further your condition. Don't push yourself."

Detective Sato nodded before clearing her throat. "It is to my understanding that you don't remember your name so I won't bother asking you about that. Instead, I'd like to know the first thing you do remember."

She swallowed uneasily as she watched the detectives before her. The woman couldn't really understand why but their presence bothered her a great deal. To forget about that, she tried focusing on the question. The very first thing she could remember . . .

"I-I was in an alleyway," she revealed. "My head hurt badly and I didn't know what was going. I could barely stand."

"Can you recall where this alleyway was?"

She shook her head slowly. "I hadn't stuck around for long." Her tone seemed curious about her actions; or maybe perturbed as to why she hadn't. It was something deep down inside of her that told her she had to keep moving.

"Why did you go to that park specifically? Why not the police?"

The ferris wheel.

The answer surfaced swiftly and assuredly through her thoughts. She didn't know why she went there just for the ferris wheel but the fact she knew even that much was something. Yet. . she didn't tell them.

"I don't know," she shrugged. "It felt safer and just calm. I wasn't thinking to go to the police." Of course she left out that she couldn't go to a police department. But she could just use the excuse of confusion until she knew what was going on with her. To be fair, she really was confused.

Detective Sato nodded before pulling a card from her pocket. "I didn't expect you to know much and you are on bed rest so I'll end this here." Handing the card to her, the injured girl looked at it curiously. "That's my number. If you remember anything about yourself or the accident, call me."

She nodded again and her cheeks tinted a slight pink. That's all she's done for the past few hours. How embarrassing it was that she couldn't even think to hold a conversation. "T-thank you," she choked out but it sounded completely forced and her grin appeared as a grimace. And either they didn't notice or they just didn't feel like making her even more uncomfortable because the detectives bowed their heads respectfully before exiting.

Not giving her a chance to relax, the door opened again and now what she assumed was her doctor entered. She watched the man even more uneasily. For some reason the doctor bothered her more than the detectives. The man didn't seem too bad. A normal middle aged man dressed in his medical coat and carrying a clip board; there was nothing particularly daunting about him but something . . frightened her.

She started sweating. Her heart beating furiously could be heard on the monitor and she felt her cheeks enflame even more.

"Looks like someone's afraid of the doctor's office," he joked with a warm smile and a wink. "I'm Doctor Araide. I've been looking after you since Kudou-san brought you in."

That didn't put her at ease at all and she swallowed through her dry throat. Forcing herself to breathe evenly, the beeps from the monitor slowly went back to normal. She was thankful the doctor hadn't made too much of a big deal over it but Kudou-san was actually looking at her with a calculating frown. All she could do was try to convince her brain that it was alright. They weren't really in a hospital and that she needed to calm down.

"Well," he went to sit on the chair beside her and she tensed up some more. He didn't point it out this time thankfully and continued with," I have some bad news and some good news."

"What's the bad?" she took the initiative to ask. She'd rather get that out of the way first.

Doctor Araide sighed before shaking his head. "We ran prints and DNA through our systems and through the police department's records as well to see if we could pin you with a name. You're not in any of the systems and no one has reported a missing persons case." Seeing the disheartened look on his features he said, "Don't worry. That could mean many things. You just might not be around from this part of Japan and thankfully you don't have a record to warrant the police's attention."

She nodded slowly, trying to focus on the positive side. It was hard though when she was so confused. She literally had nothing. Not even memories.

"Now for the slightly better news. . . " And for this he actually looked at his clipboard and flipped back a few pages. "I'd still like to do a few more brain scans just to make sure your condition hasn't worsened but it appears to be psychogenic amnesia."

"P-psychogenic. . . ?"

"Retrograde amnesia," he corrected for her in simpler terms. "It's a form of memory loss that can follow a physically or emotionally traumatic event. Luckily, I believe yours isn't too severe."

"So. . . I won't keep passing out?" she asked hopefully from her bed. It hadn't been a very nice feeling from what she could remember and waking up hadn't been any easier either.

Doctor Araide sighed as if he didn't want to make her any promises. He probably couldn't and instead said, "I think that was your body reacting to a memory that . . . psychologically," he finally settled on that word, "you wanted to avoid."

"Basically. . . I don't want to remember." The injured woman nodded but could feeling the beginnings of a headache; only this time it was different. Instead of just straight and abrupt pain this one seemed to stem from stress and disappointment. What had happened to her so bad in her life that she didn't want to remember any of it?

"Not necessarily," the doctor said anxiously. He must've saw what her own statement meant for her. "It was only a theory. What's more important is there was no physical damage to the brain. Cases like these- I don't want to give false hope, but typically my patients that have experienced something similar, all regained some form of memory to their life before their accident."

Though he basically told her not to get too excited, her heart grew brighter. Maybe she wouldn't be a nobody forever and like he said, at least there was no serious damage. "Is there anything I can do that will hasten the process?" The woman didn't want to lose her calm façade in front of the doctor but it was hard to hide it in her voice.

And like a doctor would, he detected it easily. "You're still on bed rest," he warned. "Besides the amnesia, you suffered some major bruising to your ribs and abrasions to your face."

Her eyes widened. She hadn't even noticed. Had she been walking around with bruised ribs all this time? It was hard to believe but maybe whatever accident she had been in numbed her.

"I-" She cut herself off nervously. She didn't want to stay here. Doctors were meant to help people; she knew that deep down. But a certain fear deep inside of her chest- she couldn't deal with that here and surrounded by it. "I don't want to stay here."

And just like that, both the doctor's and Kudou-san's eyes were flitting towards her incredulously.

"I don't think you understand the severity of your condition," Doctor Araide started. "Your wounds are ones fitting of a car accident. You are in no state to be living on your own. And legally, I cannot let you leave on your own."

She wasn't legally a patient here. She was sure of it from Kudou-san's words and she wasn't about to stay here longer than she had to. She didn't want to be here and as far as she was concerned, she didn't have to be. She tried to be nice and let them have their questioning and their tests. Now she wanted to leave. She was fine just on her own until that stranger started smelling her. She wished she jumped out that window when she had the chance.

"Any more stress could damage your chances of gaining anything from your past."

That had her pausing her retort, biting her lip in contemplation. She didn't want to stay here. This wasn't comfortable for her. In fact, it frightened her quite a bit and what was even worse- she didn't know why.

Seeing that she wasn't too fond of this place but also realizing she understood her condition, the stranger from before spoke up again only this time addressing the doctor. "She can stay with me."

The doctor was staring at her now, a frown on his face before turning that disapproving stare on Kudou-san. "It was already wrong of me not to send this woman to a hospital let alone to not call the police. How can you ask me to let her leave?"

"She'll stay at my house. I have more than enough room and I'll watch over her," he replied easily while giving her wary sideways glances. It looked like he was worried she was going to just jump and leave herself without listening to what they had to say.

It was tempting.

"I'll let you leave tomorrow morning if you stay the night," was the doctor's final offer. Either that or he would more than likely inform the law enforcement. She didn't want to risk getting any of them in trouble for hiding this for her.

Lips pursed uncomfortably, she nodded her head once. "And then I can leave?"

"Like I said earlier, I want to run a few more brain scans and make sure there's no lasting damage through the night. After that, I am letting you leave with Kudou-san to be in his care." Doctor Araide put extra emphasis so she knew she would not be leaving alone.

True to his word though, the next morning she and Kudou-san were filling out documents. The entire time Doctor Araide was standing over her- prattling her to stay. After the restless night she had however, that wouldn't be happening. It was like she was about to crawl out of her skin. She didn't feel safe.

"Ma'am," the doctor turned to face her. "I really do not recommend this." It was a last ditch effort really. The hours long process was finally over and Kudou-san was pulling his car around as she waited.

"I know. Thank you for all you've done," she bowed. If it hadn't been for the fact that this was his practice and they had in fact taken her to a hospital, she knew this wouldn't have gone done as smoothly as it did.

Doctor Araide sighed disappointedly. "Please come back if you experience any pain or illness. You have a head injury and that could make appearances as nausea, soreness- anything." And he too was handing her a card and she couldn't believe she was receiving a second one. "This is my work number. It's always on and do not hesitate to call. Kudou-kun has my number as well."

After a few more departing words on the doctor's part on how she needed to be careful, she was waiting in the passenger seat as Kudou-san talked privately with him. She didn't pay it any mind and figured the man had finally given up on trying to convince her to stay there. Instead, he must be giving Kudou-san explicit instructions as he had done prior with her.

She jumped when the door opened and he slid into the driver's seat. Not realizing he was done talking, the girl noticed the doctor was long gone and not even standing on the porch any longer.

"So," he began as he buckled his seatbelt. "Is there anything you'd like me to call you?"

His question actually threw her. She just assumed she'd be left a no-name until she either remembered or those two detectives identified her- whichever came first. The woman thought about it though before shaking her head. Thinking about it gave her a headache and she honestly didn't know what she'd like to be called. Her real name definitely but at the moment that wasn't a possibility. Then to make it even harder, she knew nothing about herself to conjure up some nickname.

Kudou-san waved her off. "We'll figure something out," he said reassuringly. "Let's get you settled in first."

"Where are we?" she piqued curiously. Somehow her brain had retained the information that she was indeed Japanese and still in Japan. Why it didn't know anything else she'd never figure out.

"I live in Beika."

All she could do was nod again. Nothing seemed familiar about the area or name. A little bit of her hope diminished with that but she wouldn't get too discouraged yet. The doctor had hinted that this loss was more than likely temporarily until her mind could come to grips with what happened.

For some reason, when she was informed that she'd be staying with this Kudou Shinichi, she had pictured an apartment. Maybe a two bedroom flat in the city. What their car pulled up to however, she was practically pressed to the window in amazement.

It was a mansion- and no, she was not exaggerating. The house was huge and gated in and everything. Again she had to ask, "Who are you?" Not just anybody could afford a place like this. He had to be somebody important.

He looked at her surprised as he walked up to the gate and pulled it open. It was already unlocked apparently. "I already told you." When he saw she was still looking up in awe at the place that would be her home for at least the next few days, he sighed. "My mother is an actress and my father is an author. They left me the place to live in the States."

Glancing at him, she had a brief moment to wonder if that's why she recognized his name. The fact he had famous parents was more than explanation enough. She was curious to just who his parents were now but he seemed uncomfortable on the topic so she respectfully didn't push it. Instead she said, "Is it just you here?" She was curious. He looked to be in his early twenties and he wasn't bad looking at all. Maybe he had a wife or girlfriend.

"Well now there's you," he pointed out.

Blinking, she was a little flabbergasted that he owned this mansion all to himself. "You live here alone?" Still staring at the hard iron gates blocking the entry way, she felt a sort of cold sensation overcome her. How could someone live in such a big building all by themselves? She knew already that she wouldn't want to and she didn't even know who she was.

Kudou-san took a moment to pause and look at her as if she needed to pay attention. "No. Now, you live here too."

She actually took a moment to glare at his retreating back. The woman wasn't able to tell he was joking until he turned and gave her a small smirk. It was hard to stay irritated when someone smiled at you like that. And the fact he kept this entire thing a secret also helped but she didn't really want to bring that up anymore. Instead, she wanted to focus on getting to know the new place she'd be staying at for however long he chose to deal with her.

After he shut the gate behind them and resumed strolling down the pathway, her gaze raked across the front entrance and the surrounding yard. There was grass and it was green and there was indeed paint on the shutters and front door, but something disturbed her about the scene. She couldn't explain it well but it all just seemed so . . . dead. The front area near the front windows was completely bare where it appeared a garden may of been there quite some time ago. Actually entering the house and into the foyer, the shoe cubby was empty except for one pair. And eyes scanning the barren walls and the way their voices echoed around the spacious house- it was empty.

And there she had the answers to her own curious questions. There was no wife. There was no girlfriend. And based off the shoe rack, there wasn't even any guests. Did he really live here. . ? A hollow feeling ironically filled her heart. She couldn't explain it but she had the weird urge to open the shades and start cleaning. Not that it was messy or anything. It was clean- too clean if possible.

Kudou-san didn't notice the way she scrutinized the building as she followed him up the stairs. If he did, he didn't say anything about it and she walked quietly in his slippers. She assumed they were his considering they were the only pair by the door and he was forced to walk around in his socks. He must not receive many visitors.

"You can stay in here," he said as he opened one of the many doors in the upstairs hallway. "Since I only really had the night to prepare, it's not much. We can go out and buy you some clothes and stuff tomorrow though if you're up to it." It came out unsurely and when she glanced back at him he was scratching the back of his neck awkwardly.

The woman shook her head with a small grin. "This is fine. Thank you for allowing me to stay." She was still curious as to why he did it. He had no clue who she was and neither did she. She had absolutely no memory of her prior life and some possible health issues. If she was asked, she'd say she was more trouble than it was worth.

"I have a neighbor that is about your size. She lent me some clothes for you to use- if you don't mind them of course," he corrected quickly.

Eyes a bit wide from the fact he actually thought she'd care about having to borrow clothes, she shook her head again. "I am very thankful for her offer and would be more than happy to get out of these." She had been wearing the same clothes she woke up in the first day with Doctor Araide. He had given her a pair of hospital pants and a white t-shirt.

"I have your original clothes in the wash." He had a thumb pointing behind him in the direction she assumed was the laundry room.

All she could do was bob her head in acknowledgement. In a way, she was thankful. Those clothes were her only grasp on where she had come from. On the other hand, they sort of felt detached. She couldn't remember anything about them so they almost held no meaning to her. She just wished she could remember something.

"Is your head hurting?"

She almost wondered why he would be asking her that but then she took notice to the frown she had on her features. The girl hadn't even realized she'd been doing it. Straightening her features, she fixed her lips upward into a small grin. "Not at all."

Kudou-san had been in the process of saying something when the grand doorbell resounded around the massive home. A confused scrunch of his brows showed he wasn't expecting any visitors today. "Excuse me," he nodded his head at her before turning to go. "Go ahead and settle in."

Back facing her, the man wasn't able to see the puzzled and incredulous look she bore. Settle? Settle what. Turn down her sheets to go to bed? She had nothing. There was nothing to settle. Not saying anything though, she decided to just follow him. It might be those two detectives with a lead.

"I told you not on the first day," he came Kudou-san's disapproving tone. He didn't sound angry but there was hint of scolding in his tone and she wondered who was on the receiving end. "She just got back from the doctor's and she needs to rest today." He was glancing down, almost bent over at the waist to talk down. Now she was curious.

"I just wanted to give her these!" came a cheerful voice if she'd ever heard one.

Making her way further down the steps, she noticed the way Kudou-san gripped the door open enough for him to speak. Hoping it wasn't too forward of her, she pried the door open further. It was obvious they were talking about her anyway and she didn't feel like resting much.

Shocked at first, it was enough to catch him off guard and the door opened further. Eyes looking forward, her eyes had to flit down when she realized once again, it was a small child; a little girl. Her hair was dark and cut short, a headband with a bow on her head. All in all, she looked adorable and the woman felt a wide smile tug at her features.

Practically shoving the man out of the way- or even forgetting he was there, she came to a kneeling position. "What did you want to give me?" she asked softly at the child's wide eyes. She wasn't sure but she hoped her sudden appearance hadn't frightened the girl. She really was tiny and she had to wonder how old she was. Maybe seven, if she had to guess?

The small girl's cheeks turned a flustered pink as she hid her hands behind her, an embarrassed look as she glanced at her feet. "I can come back tomorrow. Shinichi-oniisan says you need to rest."

Unlike with Kudou-san, she was being shy. It was no surprise considering she had no clue who she was.

The woman made to appear as if she were thinking. "Well, we can tell Shinichi-oniisan that the sun's still up," she replied with a sideways glance in his direction and she almost laughed. That got the little girl looking up at her again she felt her heart warm as a small giggle escaped her.

"What's your name?"

Now a bit more at ease she excitedly said, "Yoshida Ayumi!"

"That's really pretty," she complimented and if possible, the pink on the small child's cheeks got pinker.

"My parents named me after my grandmother. It means to step or. . to walk your. . " She kept stuttering and cutting herself off as she thought really hard to remember.

The woman wasn't really sure where the burst of knowledge came from but she paused the struggling verbal thoughts of the girl. "To walk your own way," she corrected.

Ayumi gasped happily. "Yes! That's it!" She giggled herself when the girl bobbed her head excitedly.

"Here you go, Onee-chan!"

The woman had to blink at the sudden appearance of flowers in her face. When she realized this must've been what the girl was hiding behind her back, she smiled before grabbing the stem from the child's hand. They were orchids and they were almost a violet color. Where had she pulled this from?

Eyes moving back to Ayumi-chan's, she smiled wider. "Thank you. It's really pretty."

Ayumi-chan pointed at the woman's face. She had to blink again from the sudden closeness. "Just like your eyes!"

Her eyes? The woman hadn't really paid that any mind. Now that she thought about it, she hadn't even looked in a mirror yet. Surprisingly she hadn't thought to do so. Most of her time had spent in a doctor's office. It would be like staring at a stranger anyway.

"My eyes?" She still repeated as she stared into space. How could she not know the color of her own two eyes? She felt her head start to ache.

Ayumi-chan nodded surely. "Say. . . what's your name?" It must've just hit her that she wasn't aware who she was talking to. Truthfully, the woman had forgot herself too. So used to being a noname for the past two days, she didn't think to introduce herself.

"Um. . . "

Kudou-san saw her unease and appeared ready to turn this conversation around. Ayumi was way ahead of him however.

"I'll bet your name is Ran- like the orchid!" she chirped excitedly as she pointed at the flower that she still held in her hand.

Ran? Was that her name? There was nothing there; nothing familiar about the title. But as she twisted the violet orchid in her grasp, and turned the name over and over in her thoughts, she felt a slow smile return to her face. It did have a pretty ring to it.

Kudou-san looked fully prepared to scold her. He didn't want the woman to have another meltdown from trying to force a memory. "Ayumi-chan-!"

But she interrupted him. "How did you know?"

And the man had to take a second to wonder if she really remembered and that was indeed her name. But based off the humorous twist to her lips, he could tell it was mostly to amuse the small girl. If it really was her name, she didn't know but she didn't appear to be about to argue it.

"I knew it," Ayumi-chan gasped happily. "It's because of your pretty eyes!"

"Ayumi!"

All three heads shot up to glance just before the Kudou manor gates. There were two boys that appeared to be the same age as the small girl and she figured they must be classmates.

"Oh! That's Genta-kun and Mitsuhiko-kun. I'm supposed to be working on school work with them." With that she practically skipped down the front entrance steps towards the two boys. "Bye Shinichi-onii-san! Bye Ran-nee-chan!"

Little girl long gone and now back Kudou-san glanced at her. "That was nice of you."

The woman was still sitting on the couch, violet orchid in her hand as she twirled the stem. "It's not like I had a name to begin with," she shrugged. She couldn't hide the warm feeling she felt though. For once, that she could remember, someone had given meaning to something in her life. Even if it was because of chance that her eyes happened to be the same color of that particular orchid. She had a name with a meaning. She had a meaning.

Her eyes slid over to Kudou-san whom hovered in the doorway. His own gaze shot to the floor and she couldn't really tell but it seemed like his cheeks gained a tint of color. Had he been watching her?

He cleared his throat. "I could get a small vase for that," he suggested looking up at her finally. "Did you want one, Ra-?"

He cut himself off abruptly and this time she was positive he turned red.

She wasn't at all offended by his forwardness. In fact, she felt better knowing that he now had a name for her. She wasn't nameless. He probably felt uncomfortable or rude calling her some child's nickname. "I have something else in mind . . and," glancing briefly at the flower again and back to him, a small grin twisted her lips. "You can call me Ran."

#@shinranweek #shinranweek21 #day 7 #creator's choice #fanfic #shinran #dcmk fanfic #dcmk #fanfiction #this is ridiculously long and im sorry

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curiousconch · 4 years ago

Text

Recovery

Chapter 9 of Ricochet (An Open Heart AU)

Catch up here: Series Masterlist

Chapter Synopsis: As Heather is set to recover, will her relationship with Rafael follow the same path?

Pairing: Rafael Aveiro x MC (Dr. Heather Song) | Bryce Lahela x MC (Dr. Heather Song) ft. PLATONIC Dr. Ethan Ramsey

Words: 1.4k+ | Genre: Crime, Suspense/Thriller, Romance

Rating/Warnings: Mature (16+) / themes of physical and emotional trauma

Author's Notes: This very very very angsty chapter was inspired by a favorite song of mine from Taylor Swift's 1989 album, Clean. Halfway through, I wrestled with the emotions of this chapter, and another song titled Say Something, a haunting duet by A Great Big World and Christina Aguilera helped me complete the rest of the narrative.

Thank you so much for taking time to read this series. Please let me know if you want me to include/remove you in the tags list. Also, disclaimer: Majority of the characters are owned by Pixelberry, except the main character Heather Song.

Rafael watched from a distance as the doctors scrambled to revive her back to life.

Seeing her actually slip away terrified him. But what was more horrific is how he could only watch on helplessly, with no ability to come to her rescue. It shook him to the core.

For so long he believed that he can be her own personal savior, her superman. But during the most crucial of times, the sinking knowledge that he simply can't fulfill the one promise he made gnawed at him life a nightmare coming to life.

The fact that he himself had inflicted a deep wound on her heart just a few days ago crushed him all the more.

He had no right to be here, he realized. He had already gave up that privilege on the day he chose his ego over her. It was when he decided to fulfill his fantasy of being someone else's hero, rather than coming to terms with the truth that she will never need him the way he wanted to.

Even when the flashback of them at Donahues, where he asked her to consider taking him back, nipped at his already guilt-ridden heart. The sheer audacity of him to demand that from her, only a selfish person without care would ask someone to do that.

The illusion that he hold onto for so long crumbled into dust. With it, was his determination to cling to what once was.

"She's going to be okay, Raf," his silent torment was interrupted by Elijah, who approached him in the corner of the room.

He looked up to him, then to the direction where she was laid down, and heard the merciful evenly-paced beep of the heart rate monitor.

Relief washed over him. She lived.

He quietly mouthed a thank you to Dr. Greene. When he was left alone yet again, he ruminated at the stormy thoughts that filled his head.

She has suffered enough heartache for a lifetime. And for him to continue to pursue her is to only prolong her trauma and heartache over his actions. For them, there was no recovery.

Today was not a chance to begin again. It was a chance to make it right and finally give up.

It was then that he decided, it was time to let her go.

***

Heather woke up as she was wheeled into the hospital room. The white fluorescent light made her eyes flicker, her vision trying to adjust to the sudden brightness after a long stay in the dark.

A baritone voice boomed into the quiet, jolting her consciousness awake.

"Well, you put up a mighty fight today, Rookie."

Heather couldn't help a snicker, her vision darting around to sought out the speaker.

"I had to, or you'll probably chase me to the afterlife with your scalding commentary, Dr. Ramsey."

She heard him chuckle in response.

"Still snarky, I see," the attending quipped, as he approached the side of her bed and pressed a button on a remote. Slowly, her upper body raised up, as the headboard elevated. She tried to curve her lips into a smile only to feel a tingling pain, making her wince a little.

"Easy there, Dr. Song. You just went to hell and back today." Ethan said, a clipboard tucked between his fingers.

"Funny that you say that," she said. "I still feel like hell though."

Her mentor can only manage a faint smile, an endearing affection coming across his piercing blue eyes. She knew that look. It was the same kind of gaze she saw him give Dolores during her intern year. A subtle look of genuine concern which she attributed to their growing relationship as mentor and protege.

It was just a matter of seconds before that look vanished, replaced by a more formal version.

"It's going to be a couple of days of recovery for you," he explained. "You suffered from severe hyperkalemia, which, with the help of your friend from the DA, we have managed to de-escalate as soon as possible."

Heather couldn't help but blink at what was just mentioned. "I'm sorry, my friend from the DA?"

"Yes, ADA Lahela was able to identify the correct chemical compound within the first half hour after you arrived here," he paused as he checked the flow of her IV. "It aided us to do the proper intervention in the nick of time."

He was right. Anymore than 30 minutes into the system, potassium chloride would have bound to the blood cells and would have caused permanent, if not fatal damage in her system.

She'll have to thank Bryce the first chance she gets. Her memories went back to their last conversation, and she shivered at the unavoidable confrontation that will take place.

Her hands trailed up to her temple, where she felt a bandage. She recalled her fall, thinking it was how she got wounded.

"Ah, yes. We're going to do an MRI for that, just to make sure we're not missing anything else. But apart from that, you'll do alright." He concluded.

"Thanks Dr. Ramsey," her appreciation was sincere.

He nodded. He was about to express something else, when a knock on the door hindered him.

Both of them swiveled at the visitor. Heather swallowed hard as the dark brown eyes looked back at her, the familiar figure standing by the doorway.

"May I come in?" Rafael said with a hint of hesitation as he put a foot forward.

Ethan Ramsey twisted his gaze back to Heather, checking if he would allow the young man in. Although he saw her body tense, she lightly nodded.

"Sure, Agent Aveiro. We're just about finished here." the attending gently patted Heather's hand. "I'll see you in the morning, Rookie."

When Dr. Ramsey departed, Raf made his way towards her, as if in a daze. Heather bit her lower lip and touched the tips of her brunette fringes. The thin tube of the IV tangled in her arm giving her an excuse to avert her eyes away from his for a few seconds.

"Are you doing alright?" Raf asked, taking a seat on the standard-issued metal chair beside her bed.

"Yeah, I'm okay, I've been through worse." she mumbled, almost whispering.

A sharp pang of contrition reverberated within him, unsure of which ordeal she just called as a better alternative than what she just went through. Although his adultery was probably a main contender.

His head bowed low as if navigating through the warring indecision between his heart and mind. While distracted, a soft pitter-patter of rain slid against the glass window. It was as if nature was conspiring against him, yet another heaven-given sign that their end was inevitable.

How can ending a relationship be made easier? There was no path that would prove to be less difficult, except for an admission of the truth. The least hurtful road to traverse is the turn towards an honest confession that what they had has intersected with their own definition of their limits.

Rafael cleared his throat, the noise making Heather face him.

"Heather," he began. "I know I promised to be the person who you can turn to, anytime you needed." His lips quivered, fumbling with the right words to say.

"But I broke that," he simply said, reaching for her hands and lacing it with his. His head dropped so low in between his shoulders that his cheek touched the fabric of her hospital blanket.

Her eyes shone as she slowly took in his words, soaking in the finality of the tone he uttered them with. When she survived her kidnapping tonight, she initially thought she won a battle. But only hours after, they were losing the war.

Rafael's tears soaked through the white sheet, like the rain that drowned the street outside the sullen, sterile hospital room. His muffled groans of defeat echoed through the silence that crawled in between. Although his heart burst in a million shards, deep down he knew it was ultimately for the best.

They couldn't remember how long they stayed still. Eventually, he lifted his head where his gaze fell upon the softness of her features. His thumb gently grazed her cheek, asking for permission. She nodded, an unspoken agreement similar to what she used to give him before.

In a heartbeat, their lips met, savouring the taste of each other, fully aware that this will be the very last time. The kiss was sweet, but tainted bitter by their unspoken farewell. When they pulled apart, there was no question that it was the end of the road for them.

There was nothing left to say.

But before they separated, a set of amber eyes witnessed the ending of their love affair, misinterpreting it as a last ditch effort to salvage the remnants of their irreparable relationship.

The prosecutor fled from the hospital room without so much as a word, unnerved by the scene that put another blow on his own pursuit of love.

Tags: @eleanorbloom @ramsey-lahela @choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

***

Author's Notes 2: Although Rafael is still my OTP, what he did in the beginning of this series rendered him and Heather permanently broken. Cheating, no matter the justifications, will always be cheating. And dealing with the consequences of it, especially by the offended party, will be a hard mountain to summit. Raf chose to let Heather go, and for me, that proves that he loves Heather enough, so that he could spare her from further emotional trauma. She has more than enough to deal with now.

#open heart #open heart 2 #rafael aveiro #rafael aveiro x mc #bryce lahela #bryce lahela x mc #open heart fanfiction #choices fanfiction #choices fic writers creations #fics of the week #choices #pixelberry #open heart au #ethan ramsey

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thebluelemontree · 6 years ago

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I can't seem to recall very well...but I believe that, after the beheading of her father, Sansa has been thinking more of the Hound than of Arya, her own sister who dissappeared at the same time. I mean, as her sister, it would be normal to be thinking more often about Arya's whereabouts and wellbeing but, as time goes on, she thinks less or not at all of her. But on the other hand she thinks a lot about Sandor, before and after the BoB.

Since the moment Sandor tells Sansa his secret, they don’t speak to each other again until the day Joffrey comes to get her out bed and show her the heads of her father and Septa Mordane. Their relationship starts to develop more from that point forward, but its still in its budding stages. So yes, she does think of him a lot; however, we have to remember she is alone and he’s her only tether to an authentic human interaction in the wake of her father’s beheading. Sansa cannot be honest about her feelings and frustrations with her enemies. Her maids are spies, and most of the people at court want nothing to do with a traitor’s daughter anyway. She must wear her lady’s armor and pretend to be loyal and obedient. Sandor is her outlet to an extent, and he helps her survive. Then after he’s gone, she wishes she had his counsel before she goes to meet the Tyrells. Sansa has no choice at that point but to navigate these decisions entirely on her own, but his memory has come to represent shrewd judgment in a gauntlet of liars with their own agendas. Of course, there’s the whole other layer of Sansa’s sexual maturation process and the development of her feelings for him which become more relevant as she’s having more adult experiences and interactions.

We also have to remember that Sansa thinks she already knows what happened to Arya before Ned’s execution:

“And at the end, near last, came the names Sansa had been dreading. Lady Catelyn Stark. Robb Stark. Brandon Stark, Rickon Stark, Arya Stark. Sansa stifled a gasp. Arya. They wanted Arya to present herself and swear an oath … it must mean her sister had fled on the galley, she must be safe at Winterfell by now … “ -- Sansa V, AGOT.

If they obviously do not have Arya and they want her to swear an oath, it has to mean she is alive and escaped on the ship her father had procured. Sansa then imagines Arya made it to Winterfell. Something she will think about later in Clash:

She missed Septa Mordane, and even more Jeyne Poole, her truest friend. The septa had lost her head with the rest, for the crime of serving House Stark. Sansa did not know what had happened to Jeyne, who had disappeared from her rooms afterward, never to be mentioned again. She tried not to think of them too often, yet sometimes the memories came unbidden, and then it was hard to hold back the tears. Once in a while, Sansa even missed her sister. By now Arya was safe back in Winterfell, dancing and sewing, playing with Bran and baby Rickon, even riding through the winter town if she liked. Sansa was allowed to go riding too, but only in the bailey, and it got boring going round in a circle all day. -- Sansa II, ACOK

This is a belief that keeps Sansa going and gives her some solace after Ned’s execution. Arya is okay. She’s safe and home. Admittedly, it’s a very Sansa-colored fantasy for Arya, but Sansa imagines her sister living a normal, idyllic life before everything went to hell. And she’s free. She can ride anywhere she wants to, unlike herself, but she’s heartened by that. It’s also tinged with sorrow and regret for disobeying her father and not getting on that galley because it recalls the last thing Arya said to her before Sansa lashed out in anger and before she understood who the real bad guys are:

"Stop that weeping, child," Septa Mordane said sternly. "I am certain your lord father knows what is best for you."

"It won't be so bad, Sansa," Arya said. "We're going to sail on a galley. It will be an adventure, and then we'll be with Bran and Robb again, and Old Nan and Hodor and the rest." She touched her on the arm.

"Hodor!" Sansa yelled. "You ought to marry Hodor, you're just like him, stupid and hairy and ugly!" She wrenched away from her sister's hand, stormed into her bedchamber, and barred the door behind her. -- Sansa III, AGOT.

The aforementioned Clash passage also gives us a window into Sansa’s coping strategy. The fact that Sansa cannot afford to crack and lose that self-control is one reason why she doesn’t allow herself to think of her family (and Jeyne Poole) as much as we might think she ought to. It hurts too damn much. Sansa was in a suicidal depression in the days immediately following Ned’s execution. She was staying in bed, not eating, being plagued by nightmares and praying for dead, dreamless sleep. That chapter of raw vulnerability is when the mask came off, and she told Joffrey she hated him to his face, told him she hoped Robb would bring her his head, and thought about murdering him herself. As profound as that moment was for her own character arc's conclusion in AGOT (and Sandor seeing her mettle), it’s not going to be the way she endures, maintains her sanity, and eventually escapes.

It will continue into her period as Alayne Stone; however, despite her efforts to suppress her Stark identity and the pain associated with it, Sansa cannot help it. She does think of her loved ones often, including Arya, and many times it’s positive rather than negative before and after the BotBW. What Sansa says and thinks she is doing and what she actually does can be two different things. Remember she said “that day was done and so was Sansa” in regards to Sandor and the unkiss... then proceeded to think about Sandor a few more times in the same chapter. Rest assured with your concerns. She thinks of Arya and all the people she cares about even though she says she shouldn’t or won’t allow herself to do that. But let me lay out all the positives before discussing the negatives. Lots of quotes under the cut.

He'd owned a sword named Lion's Tooth once, Sansa remembered. Arya had taken it from him and thrown it in a river. I hope Stannis does the same with this one. "It is beautifully wrought, Your Grace." -- Sansa V, ACOK

She sang for mercy, for the living and the dead alike, for Bran and Rickon and Robb, for her sister Arya and her bastard brother Jon Snow, away off on the Wall. -- Sansa V, ACOK

Margaery's kindness had been unfailing, and her presence changed everything. Her ladies welcomed Sansa as well. It had been so long since she had enjoyed the company of other women, she had almost forgotten how pleasant it could be. Lady Leonette gave her lessons on the high harp, and Lady Janna shared all the choice gossip. Merry Crane always had an amusing story, and little Lady Bulwer reminded her of Arya, though not so fierce. -- Sansa II, ASOS.

In Sansa's dreams, her children looked just like the brothers she had lost. Sometimes there was even a girl who looked like Arya. -- Sansa II, ASOS.

That was such a sweet dream, Sansa thought drowsily. She had been back in Winterfell, running through the godswood with her Lady. Her father had been there, and her brothers, all of them warm and safe. If only dreaming could make it so . . . She threw back the coverlets. I must be brave. Her torments would soon be ended, one way or the other. If Lady was here, I would not be afraid. Lady was dead, though; Robb, Bran, Rickon, Arya, her father, her mother, even Septa Mordane. All of them are dead but me. She was alone in the world now. -- Sansa IV, ASOS. [Sansa’s inclusion of Arya here suggests she assumes she must have suffered the same fate as Bran and Rickon]

She had dreamt that she was little, still sharing a bedchamber with her sister Arya. But it was her maid she heard tossing in sleep, not her sister, and this was not Winterfell, but the Eyrie. -- Sansa VII, ASOS.

She had last seen snow the day she'd left Winterfell. That was a lighter fall than this, she remembered. Robb had melting flakes in his hair when he hugged me, and the snowball Arya tried to make kept coming apart in her hands. It hurt to remember how happy she had been that morning. -- Sansa VII, ASOS.

She remembered a summer's snow in Winterfell when Arya and Bran had ambushed her as she emerged from the keep one morning. They'd each had a dozen snowballs to hand, and she'd had none. Bran had been perched on the roof of the covered bridge, out of reach, but Sansa had chased Arya through the stables and around the kitchen until both of them were breathless. She might even have caught her, but she'd slipped on some ice. Her sister came back to see if she was hurt. When she said she wasn't, Arya hit her in the face with another snowball, but Sansa grabbed her leg and pulled her down and was rubbing snow in her hair when Jory came along and pulled them apart, laughing. -- Sansa VII, ASOS.

They made a race of it, dashing headlong across the yard and past the stables, skirts flapping, whilst knights and serving men alike looked on, and pigs and chickens scattered before them. It was most unladylike, but Alayne sound found herself laughing. For just a little while, as she ran, she forgot who she was, and where, and found herself remembering bright cold days at Winterfell, when she would race through Winterfell with her friend Jeyne Poole, with Arya running after them trying to keep up. -- Alayne I, TWOW.

I think there is an overall progression of Sansa reconnecting with Arya through her childhood memories of her and appreciating the sisterhood they had before septas, queens, and princes came into their lives. The sisterhood she’s finding again in the Vale with Myranda and Mya. The kind of sisterhood she hoped for from the fair-weather Tyrells, who did not reciprocate:

Sister. Sansa had once dreamt of having a sister like Margaery; beautiful and gentle, with all the world's graces at her command. Arya had been entirely unsatisfactory as sisters went. How can I let my sister marry Joffrey? she thought, and suddenly her eyes were full of tears. -- Sansa II, ASOS.

A while back, I once had some trouble with this passage. It felt like such a low and completely unnecessary blow for George to write this line for Sansa to think about Arya. I suggest you look at my ask to @nobodysuspectsthebutterfly dealing with this specific quote. We have to remember sometimes that while characters can be on positive change arcs, sometimes they have bumps in the road and mini-regressions. Change is hard, ya know?

And what will they do to me? Sansa found herself thinking of Lady again. She could smell out falsehood, she could, but she was dead, Father had killed her, on account of Arya. She drew the knife and held it before her with both hands. -- Sansa II, ACOK.

Yeah, that’s not a good look either. Sansa’s meeting Dontos for the first time, she’s freaking out that this might be a trap or she might get caught. She desperately wants her wolf by her side, but damn it, because of Ned and Arya’s actions, she’s now left high and dry to sort this out alone. Remember she thinks Arya made it out and escaped to Winterfell. She was legitimately grateful for that, but Sansa is also under stress here and sometimes people, because they are people, unfairly blame others when they are actually mad at themselves. If Sansa had got on the galley back then, she wouldn’t have to take her chances with a drunken slob. Lady’s death and who is responsible for that has nothing to do with the situation at hand.

These don’t point any actual malice toward Arya, but all too common human frailty. The fact that she believes Arya is alive and well, from her perspective, affords her that same latitude to make a few uncharitable digs at her sibling, as siblings sometimes do. No one wants to admit they had poor judgment or fucked up in hindsight. Especially having to admit your little sister was right about your ex-boyfriend from day one and she, the oh-so-much-wiser-and-mature big sister never saw the red flags. But hey, Sansa got over that. Later in Clash, when she thinks about that day on the Trident, she remembers Arya throwing Joffrey’s dumb, pretentious sword in the river. That becomes her prevailing memory. Not the resulting death of Lady. Suddenly Arya’s behavior isn’t wild and unruly anymore, but an appropriate response to a true villain. And through her experience with the Tyrells, she learns that sisterhood is about who has your back, not the pretty packaging. Then when Sansa believes herself the only remaining Stark, save Jon to an extent, her thoughts are not critical of Arya at all. It's bittersweet for Sansa to recall her family, but an emphasis is on the sweet. She draws strength from their memory. That TWOW quote is one of my favorites and IMO makes a strong statement about the future when the sisters reunite. I don’t think you need to worry.

#sansa stark #arya stark #sandor clegane #sansa stark meta #the stark sisters #house stark #in this house we love both start sisters #satan0vna

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