For a solid minute or two, perhaps five, Sota stays on fours, emptying his lungs of water. In one ear, he hears Junko's pleas. Worried little "Sota-kun!"'s and "are you okay!!!"'s. In the other, hears Keniwa. Another day, another speech. Except, his time, his words aren't for Sota to hear......
Red bundles perk in the air. He shoots the two a look that reads empty, harbors plenty. Mitsuha disappears behind a blink, and the two are left to the company of one another + their respective contracts. If Keniwa lets the silence eat at them, Sota is the first to make a move. Hauls himself up, careful not to showcase the amount of effort the movement sucks out of him. Then, idles. Rests his hands within his large pockets, and —
pats, pats, pats. Fuck. "Uhhhhh. I ran out."
"Are you alright, mister?" Junko coos, floating down to the level of Sota's shoulder who, once more, reacts with discontent. But. Doesn't move away from her. "Should we... continue?"
—
wc 165
Red bundles perk in the air. He shoots the two a look that reads empty, harbors plenty. Mitsuha disappears behind a blink, and the two are left to the company of one another + their respective contracts. If Keniwa lets the silence eat at them, Sota is the first to make a move. Hauls himself up, careful not to showcase the amount of effort the movement sucks out of him. Then, idles. Rests his hands within his large pockets, and —
pats, pats, pats. Fuck. "Uhhhhh. I ran out."
"Are you alright, mister?" Junko coos, floating down to the level of Sota's shoulder who, once more, reacts with discontent. But. Doesn't move away from her. "Should we... continue?"
—
wc 165