[ The foliage crumbles under his angry footsteps as he marches forward, pushing aside branches. There's faint footsteps behind him, someone following with an even pace. But his breath is ragged in frustration—the other presence is not welcome.
The other voice says something. He huffs and replies, his own voice smooth, yet agitated.
"I don't need you to hold my hand. I can manage on my own. I hate it when you treat me like this."
The other voice is scarcely audible behind the buzz of upset in his ears. But one word sticks out, and there's a rush of foliage before the rustling comes to an abrupt halt.
"Do not say that word around me! You will not remind me of—of that anymore!"
But his anger is only met with a light chuckle. He sighs, his anger and frustration boiling over.
"I wish I'd never made it! You're just—all you ever do is talk about me like, like some...intangible object. Why don't you ever listen to me? You don't listen to me! I don't want you here!"
His anger echoes through the still trees and brush, fading quickly in the carpet of leaves. What the other voice says causes him to inhale sharply and yell, cutting it off.
"I don't!"
There's a brief pause, a total moment of silence before the other voice speaks in quiet defeat. Shortly afterwards, there comes the distant rustle of underbrush as the other person turns to leave.
Regret rings loud in his ears.
But the low, menacing shudder in the distance rings louder.
It happens so fast. Melancholy and regret and disappointment fly away with the disturbed flocks of birds, and his ears buzz terribly as something whips through the trees straight towards him.
Crunch, crunch. He leaps forward, through the branches.
"Shino? Shino?! Shino!"
He cannot hear his own panic and regret over the noise.
no subject
The other voice says something. He huffs and replies, his own voice smooth, yet agitated.
"I don't need you to hold my hand. I can manage on my own. I hate it when you treat me like this."
The other voice is scarcely audible behind the buzz of upset in his ears. But one word sticks out, and there's a rush of foliage before the rustling comes to an abrupt halt.
"Do not say that word around me! You will not remind me of—of that anymore!"
But his anger is only met with a light chuckle. He sighs, his anger and frustration boiling over.
"I wish I'd never made it! You're just—all you ever do is talk about me like, like some...intangible object. Why don't you ever listen to me? You don't listen to me! I don't want you here!"
His anger echoes through the still trees and brush, fading quickly in the carpet of leaves. What the other voice says causes him to inhale sharply and yell, cutting it off.
"I don't!"
There's a brief pause, a total moment of silence before the other voice speaks in quiet defeat. Shortly afterwards, there comes the distant rustle of underbrush as the other person turns to leave.
Regret rings loud in his ears.
But the low, menacing shudder in the distance rings louder.
It happens so fast. Melancholy and regret and disappointment fly away with the disturbed flocks of birds, and his ears buzz terribly as something whips through the trees straight towards him.
Crunch, crunch. He leaps forward, through the branches.
"Shino? Shino?! Shino!"
He cannot hear his own panic and regret over the noise.
Because soon, comes silence. ]