this heart bleeds again

The shadows crack, splinter, and shatter. Before them stands Satoru, but it’s not Satoru. Suguru knows Satoru’s body more than he himself knows it, and the way this creature exists in Satoru’s likeness sends a shiver down to the bone. The long, silvery hair stays, replacing his former clothes, but his limbs are far too long, far too lanky. There’s one too many joints in his arms, stiff and bending in awkward angles, still clutching onto his heart. That heart is essentially functionless, however, because it doesn’t beat no matter how much time passes. His skin is white, with a light blue tint, eerily pale and colourless and translucent and iridescent all at once. If Suguru didn’t know better, he’d say that’s an angel attempting to take on a human form, but far too unaccustomed to the physicality of humans to succeed.