[Keiichi Maebara has been walking. Of all the things he currently knows, this is the one thing he knows the most; he has feet, there is ground unsteady beneath him, and he is walking. There is the sky above him, vultures circling, and he is walking.
He doesn't know how long it's been. He might've been walking his whole life, a hazy sandy dream. But there's a handful of things ratcheting around the dunes of his mind that make him think that, maybe, he was doing something before this.
And as he sees the silhouette of another person, maybe he'll be doing something after. Maybe more walking.]
Hey— [His voice breaks as he calls out, hoarse and dry. He swallows, but there's no saliva to lubricate the desert his mouth has decided to mimic.] —sorry, do you have water?
II. Face Your Fears And a big fat CW for bugs, slight body horror, and self-harm!
Get them out, get them out, get them out...
[He should never have stopped walking. He should never have come here. If you're not walking, you're standing still, and if you're standing still, you're rotting. And do you know what loves rotting things?
Insects. Countless insects. Burrowing. Hungry, hungry insects. They must've been in the water, or the air, or the accusatory eyes of figures he can't recognize staring down at him. Judging, accusing. His hands claw at his neck, seeking release from his torment.]
I'm sorry, I'm sorry, please just take them out! I don't know what I did, but I'm sorry!
[Scratch scratch scratch. He's huddled in some alleyway, alone, eyes focused on empty space, unable to notice anyone who might be there.]
III. Bullrider
[Massaging at his throat and trying not to think about earlier events, he finds himself drawn by a voice to the saloon, and is struck by the sudden urge to attempt to tear that bull apart. To grab a chair and just start swinging—up and down, up and down.
A chill goes down his spine, but he's not sure why. It's enough to keep him in the audience instead of on the bull, however, and when someone else passes near him, he'll speak up.]
I don't trust that thing. I think... I think it means us harm.
Keiichi Maebara | Higurashi When They Cry
[Keiichi Maebara has been walking. Of all the things he currently knows, this is the one thing he knows the most; he has feet, there is ground unsteady beneath him, and he is walking. There is the sky above him, vultures circling, and he is walking.
He doesn't know how long it's been. He might've been walking his whole life, a hazy sandy dream. But there's a handful of things ratcheting around the dunes of his mind that make him think that, maybe, he was doing something before this.
And as he sees the silhouette of another person, maybe he'll be doing something after. Maybe more walking.]
Hey— [His voice breaks as he calls out, hoarse and dry. He swallows, but there's no saliva to lubricate the desert his mouth has decided to mimic.] —sorry, do you have water?
II. Face Your Fears
And a big fat CW for bugs, slight body horror, and self-harm!
Get them out, get them out, get them out...
[He should never have stopped walking. He should never have come here. If you're not walking, you're standing still, and if you're standing still, you're rotting. And do you know what loves rotting things?
Insects. Countless insects. Burrowing. Hungry, hungry insects. They must've been in the water, or the air, or the accusatory eyes of figures he can't recognize staring down at him. Judging, accusing. His hands claw at his neck, seeking release from his torment.]
I'm sorry, I'm sorry, please just take them out! I don't know what I did, but I'm sorry!
[Scratch scratch scratch. He's huddled in some alleyway, alone, eyes focused on empty space, unable to notice anyone who might be there.]
III. Bullrider
[Massaging at his throat and trying not to think about earlier events, he finds himself drawn by a voice to the saloon, and is struck by the sudden urge to attempt to tear that bull apart. To grab a chair and just start swinging—up and down, up and down.
A chill goes down his spine, but he's not sure why. It's enough to keep him in the audience instead of on the bull, however, and when someone else passes near him, he'll speak up.]
I don't trust that thing. I think... I think it means us harm.
[A normal thing to say.]