A take on the familial love Isuke once had. Riding on the idea that she's grateful to Eisuke, but even that doesn't amount to love.
Sometimes in the dead of the night, when all is quiet and put to rest, your mind can't help but wander. The direction is arbitrary; the journey a mystery. Some nights you rest on the topic of trivial things; of the dramas on TV, or the filthy steak that that "high end" restaurant tried to pass off to you as Kobe.
But other nights, you think of greater things. Of the pain you once endured, the trust you once lost, or the love you once felt.
The thought brings a sadistic grin to your face.
Love?
Your mind must be reaching for ghosts again (searching for something that simply isn't there), the same way it did all those years ago, because you know you cannot - will not - love.
There was once a time where you thought you were capable of loving others, but that perished along with the brother you once had, warping your heart into something wicked and sickly; something that cried and screamed until its throat was coarse from all the bitterness it spewed.
It was a pain that wrenched itself so deeply and strongly within you, you could not stand to bear it anymore. This heart that kicked and thrashed so wildly while begging for the torment to end, was something you could no longer deal with. So you cast it aside. Banished it to the deepest pits of hell, where something so pitiful and disgusting belonged.
And it stayed that way, rotting in a pool of its own tears, pounding at walls that would not crumble.
But sometimes in the dead of the night, when all is quiet and put to rest, you feel a familiar twist in your chest; hear a familiar cry echo throughout your mind, and just like that, a lone tear etches its way down your cheek, releasing the wailing heart you so desperately try to keep at bay.
