The same room as always, the bed as stiff as ever, the light outside as dark as it was yesterday, and my body, which felt like an empty shell, still void as the city around me. My head tilted a slight upwards, focused on where the wall met the ceiling. It didn't always have that stain, did it? A stain that breached from the meeting, downwards, slight, but shouldn't be there in the first place. And even though the stain drew attention to that section just by existing, it still didn't stand out enough to be important enough to clean up. It was just there -- a stain, a stain that looked a bit awful, where nobody knew where it came from, and nobody wanted to get rid of, because that'd require being able to reach the ceiling as well.

That gazing into the stain was interrupted, however, by the sounds of something above the waters. Another thunderstorm has brought down lightning, terrorizing nobody in particular. The only people who would've given a damn were gone by now, I was too enthralled in my own misery, and I cannot read Mocha Ray Cookie's mind, nor do I know her well enough to know if she would be scared. I knew her enough to love her, my only other companion left, but I knew almost nothing about her still. She was kind, a kindness that shined with everything she did, a kindness that peered through my fighting mind and broke that mindset away with every little thing of kindness -- a kindness that seemed innate to her very form. She was just...nice, and didn't mind that I was like this. And that was enough for me to fall in love with somebody, for them to show me a compassion I never felt or was piercable by anyone else. Leader was nice. Everyone in that group was nice. But Mocha Ray was nice-nice. Sing-song voiced nice, the niceness that would check up on me and bring me flowers if she was freed from her position, I hoped. Or maybe there was something underneath that kindness -- maybe she knew what I was too.

...And of Leader -- What were they doing? The same as always? Was the team seperated by now? Is Leader ok? Without even a second thought, as if we were all together and in communications again, and by habit, I stood up and went to that small desk in the corner. I had outgrown that desk -- growing forever, but one day, I'd be too big and the heart that powered the emotions I felt and the veins and arteries would give out, like I wanted to give out so badly right now, and I'd collaspe and become one with the seas. Vallaha could reach me one day, but...now was not the day. I was still one alongside, and I could hear an automated click of the pen. As if I was some robot, I started writing out something. Something. It was something. A letter to Leader. It would probably go nowhere but on the starry sea's surfaces and be eaten by a bird, but by miracles...