Tadashi fingers the brim of his hat, picking absently at areas where the fabric has worn thin and the stiffer material underneath shows through. He remembers heat. Heat and fear and a cushion of hot air right before a nauseating sense of displacement dropped him into his current situation. A dead man living again, trying to pick back up where he hadn't even realized he'd left off.
"It's different. Seeing evidence, I mean."
He glances briefly in the direction of the Hamada graves before focusing down on his hat again. None of it seemed like it really could've happened, but here they were. Here he was. And there he was.
no subject
Tadashi fingers the brim of his hat, picking absently at areas where the fabric has worn thin and the stiffer material underneath shows through. He remembers heat. Heat and fear and a cushion of hot air right before a nauseating sense of displacement dropped him into his current situation. A dead man living again, trying to pick back up where he hadn't even realized he'd left off.
"It's different. Seeing evidence, I mean."
He glances briefly in the direction of the Hamada graves before focusing down on his hat again. None of it seemed like it really could've happened, but here they were. Here he was. And there he was.
If only it really was a dream.