This is that moment.
The one
where you balance perilously on the edge, of what is unknown to you,
but that you will fall is certain.
It is an awkward thing to explain.
It is the knowledge that your next act will be a judgement unto none but yourself.
This judgement has a sentence, one
which you must carry out for the rest of your existence.
Yes, it
is one moment and it is fleeting.
It demands your decision to be made
quickly.
Yet how, how can something be decided upon so suddenly
when the rest of your life must pay the consequences for your
actions?
He disliked rushing. It entailed that
one could not calculate, weigh the odds, and make a clear judgement.
This shouldn't even be such a moment.
It was clear what he
was to do, it was not particularly difficult, nothing more than a
basic chore.
The why was there hesitation?
Why was he even thinking about it?
It was her. He could not see her but he knew what she was doing. She was standing there, in her torn white gown, grasping at the skirt. She was not crying, she wouldn't, but he could feel her despair.
It disgusted him.
It made him
consider...
There were consequences...
Disgusting
He turned.
He left the orange haired shinigami
broken and bleeding on the sands.
He turned and in this he had
chosen where he was to fall.
If he was to land...
No, that was yet to be determined.
