Present
Colourful stripes, crisp paper. Like a gift, or a thrilling game.
The first time she had been in Kirigiri's presence, there were two things she had noticed – how deeply she changed the atmosphere, and how, in spite of this, she always seemed to be so distant.
She barely spoke, and she smelled like precious things; she touched and gazed on people like one would do with crystal, discreetly, without missing a shade.
But the way she hid her soul – that made her far, and cold like tempered steel.
Soft ribbons, for the party of your destiny.
From the rest of her former classmates, Junko knew what to expect. Most of them were nothing to worry about. There were some challenges, yes; the strongest would be the first to go, in the most treacherous way.
She held their hearts in her hand; she would turn them over, crush them to the ground, enjoy the tingling of their shattered lives.
And Kirigiri, yes, even she – she would not be that different this time.
A gorgeous bow – say, do you expect this?
Her pride and her distance had made her an empty shell.
She was an elegant vase, inscrutable outside and completely hollow inside – she had found a fragile shelter, never facing the source of the storm. Junko knew the cracks on her mask inside and out; she would tear through them with her fingers, delicately turn her to ashes, just to feel her despair and blame herself.
Kirigiri had built a fortress on the sand of her weaknesses. And Junko – and despair – would be the sea, the infinite tempest.
It would take her time, and patience, to sink Kirigiri's spirit forever. The others would surrender faster, Junko was sure of it. And yet – yet, of course, the reward was just too great to give up on.
This cold grin. All that is left you.
She had to go down.