[ The first thing Kazuma may notice before he even slithers his way to her door is the fact that Susato's lights are still on. He would be forgiven for thinking she is still awake, but she definitely is not, rolled over and sprawled as she is on her bed as she is. She's shivering, because the house has definitely been colder, but also sweating, and she's kicked her blankets onto the floor. Iris the bunny seems to have fallen as well, tossed onto the floor, and there seem to be perfectly square pieces of variously colored paper left on her bed; some are still more or less in good condition, but others may be crinkled from her tossing and turning.
How long has she been like this? Her hair is loose and equally a mess, at least compared to how neatly she normally kept it. Next to her bed on the shelf sits a few necklace-sized, mostly empty jars, save for one that it seemed she'd been working on filling with small origami cranes. Another, far larger jar follows that one, not unlike the one Kazuma pushed into the room. This one is also filled most of the way with the shine of dried Glowing Dawn petals. They're not scattered about her room like they are in the more common areas of the house, but Kazuma had been so reclusive that she really didn't think she'd have to worry about having him in her room again any time soon. ]
. . .
[ There is a quiet whining, pleading behind her voice, but if she says anything at all, it's unintelligible. She doesn't appear to react or stir to the sound of her door creaking open.
Because if there's one thing worse than dying in a dream herself (which she's already done), it's watching everyone she cares about die all around her. And she's either powerless to stop it, or she's the cause.
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How long has she been like this? Her hair is loose and equally a mess, at least compared to how neatly she normally kept it. Next to her bed on the shelf sits a few necklace-sized, mostly empty jars, save for one that it seemed she'd been working on filling with small origami cranes. Another, far larger jar follows that one, not unlike the one Kazuma pushed into the room. This one is also filled most of the way with the shine of dried Glowing Dawn petals. They're not scattered about her room like they are in the more common areas of the house, but Kazuma had been so reclusive that she really didn't think she'd have to worry about having him in her room again any time soon. ]
. . .
[ There is a quiet whining, pleading behind her voice, but if she says anything at all, it's unintelligible. She doesn't appear to react or stir to the sound of her door creaking open.
Because if there's one thing worse than dying in a dream herself (which she's already done), it's watching everyone she cares about die all around her. And she's either powerless to stop it, or she's the cause.
To her, they're one and the same. ]