𝐍𝐄𝐅𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐁𝐀𝐓𝐀 Manjiro Sano

Chapter 12

The charring ball of fire freely soared the azure tinted clear sky plastered aloft, providing warmth and light to those who are unfortunate enough underneath to undergo a day crammed with suffering. With those slivers of sunlight scattered, below, a certain lover leisurely strolls around their vast garden-- a place where all sorts of color will immediately paint your sight, offering you blissful and exhilarating vistas to admire. Furthermore, half of the mentioned massive area was depicted to be replenished with leafage wherein Y/n, as stated by her spouse, relished seeing them develop.

Whisper.

Undisclosed, a faded draft of the breeze passes by, brushing their exterior that was exposed, while their feet continued on their steps, seizing the stone-paved path that was expressly made for them, or, to be stated intelligible, for someone Manjiro greatly adores.

Crunch.

Manjiro came to a standstill on his path, refraining his feet to seize any further step. He decided to take a step back from her for a bit, reasoning that he wants to appreciate her from afar. His obsidian irises were illuminated by glee, as he assess her executed gracious movement, which somehow affirmed that it presently provides a radiant smile to engraved his whole facade.

"Are you having a good time, love?" Uttered Manjiro, attempting to set ablaze a conversation in between, despite learning that what he'll reap was silence as an acknowledgment. "You once said this spot is your favorite place. Do you still remember?"

Whisper.

A hue of black entered her line of vision; the tint of the single flower that piques her interest. She pranced her way on the pavement, towards the bushes full of blooming flowers. Her partner, who was a step behind, followed her to observe.

Halting right before the green bushes festooned with delicate blossoms, Y/n lowered her body. Her knees bent and grazing the grass underneath that tickled her skin. Y/n outstretched her hand to intertwine her fingers to the flower that was blooming merrily and leaning her head faintly, to graze her nose to the wicked tinted petals, admiring the vague aroma emitted.

Drip.

Crimson blood drips, as Y/n loses her attentiveness, failing to notice that her finger was pricked by the thorn adorning the stem of the black rose stealthily flourishing. Manjiro, who was standing behind her, however, notices this, which then alarmed him, prompting him to take a rapid step forward and kneel alongside her. His lean hand yanks hers into his grasp in an instant yet cautious manner, furthermore, his unrestricted hand snatches the handkerchief he usually carries in his pocket, while it remains undisclosed to him that Y/n's dull irises wanders upon his form, rather appearing to be scrutinizing his expression.

"Here, let me..." He uttered while his hand do the task of dabbing the handkerchief against her wounded finger with attention. "You should be more cautious next time, particularly while plucking a rose—"

However, Manjiro's utterances came to a halt when he lifted his head, and his obsidian-tinted eyes accidentally encounter the midnight hues petals Y/n had been admiring, and that somewhat drew him in, since it was like defining an alluring incantation of passing.

"I don't recall us planting this," he said softly before returning her gaze to Y/n, who he had just realized was already gazing at him and had been attempting to pull her hands away from him with force.

Drip.

Manjiro's eyes widened. He was taken aback when he notices how her eyes were brimming with uncontrollable beads of tears cascading, trailing the hollow of her cheeks and then seeping to her collarbone. For whatever reason it is, that she is crying, he was completely unenlightened. Did he happen to hurt her with the tightness of his grip, or was he babbling excessively for her liking? The answer remained unresolved.

"Did I tighten my grasp on you?" Manjiro wondered, presuming that it was the reason she was sobbing. Though he attempted to convince himself that it wasn't, he thought that hurting her in any sense was inexcusable and that anyone who committed such acts, whether it to be others or himself, should be punished severely, physically and mentally.

"I'm sorry...I didn't intend to..." Manjiro wipes her tears with his calloused thumbs while cupping her cheeks. "Next time, I'll be careful; just don't tear; it saddens me to watch you cry."

Regardless of the consolation and pleading that escapes his throat, her demeanor continues to deteriorate and tears continue to flow.

Hick.

Y/n leaned her head forward, placing her hands on top of his that was settled on her cheeks lovingly. Her hair cascaded, framing her exquisite face while her eyes fluttered shut, earning his dampened lashes to glisten, reflecting faintly the slivers of light that has been torching them. With her lips forming and showing sorrowful expression, he was baffled when he heard her mellow voice again. However, the chain of words that escaped her parted lips, stabbed his heart unknowingly and make him ponder deeply.

❝When are you going to let me go, Manjiro?❞