Drought - Tumblr Posts
Never forget those three times nature just said “fuck you” to the irish.
"hey, Sukuna... What do your tattoos mean? I heard that this one," I gestured on my own chest to where his dotted line tattoo extends, "on your back is like where your wings were torn off. Is that true?"
A second passed, maybe less, when I continued, "You don't have to answer."
He told me that it was true, and in my mind I could see them. Sukuna with opulescent wings, and gossamer flower petals dropping down onto his forehead.
We were sitting on the ground, some flat wood platform. All around us were vast fields, and mountains behind them. The sky above them a light blue, bright from the sun, no cloud cover. No sign of rain.
I was just a child, but when I saw myself, I was shocked at how small I was. Appearance years below my age, hardly more than a toddler.
I wondered if I was real at all, maybe I had been haunting a doll. My hair was bleached, my skin worn, by the sun. So dry, almost like a mummy.
I watched Sukuna pull my body onto his lap. And though I wasn't in it, I felt something in my heart. It meant a lot to me.
Kenjaku had been some distance behind us, I guess standing quietly. He turned around, on his way to torment Sukuna for finding some connection with another human.
But now, I was only a ghost. I couldn't make distance between him and Kenjaku. Just like Sukuna stayed with me, but he couldn't do anything against the drought or the famine.
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