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of twins

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i want to be (like) you

kokushibou, no- yes. kokushibou waits. he is no one else, just him, just kokushibou.

a leaf crunches from under his heavy feet

he's waiting. for who? he wish he didn't know. yet he sits here, watching the sky as if someone would descend from it and save him from his anguish. what anguish? he can't remember. but he can remember him.

and his stupid expressionless face

his ponytail sways in the wind, and he sways with it. he knows who he waits for will never return, and even if he did what would he do? apologize? no- yes- no. kokushibou doesn't apologize.

The sound of grinding bones, the final breath of a man with more wrinkles than words.

"You were so weak brother."

brother? what brother? kokushibou has no brothers.

The whistle of a flute is barely noticed, his mind is cloudy and uncertain. but that's alright, someone's voice fills the void. he knows this someone, yet he can never call them by name. he saved him from his anguish. what anguish? it doesn't matter.

yet when he looks at his reflection, his marks, a different face will always stare back. one that doesn't know how to express his love, one who was thought deaf. one who doesn't deserve life.

he doesn't look at his reflection anymore.