𝐍𝐄𝐅𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐁𝐀𝐓𝐀 Manjiro Sano

Chapter 15

When the intricately festooned door was heaved open, a subtle sound erupted; Manjiro stepped forward past the threshold, announcing his presence within the chamber; a long, high-ceilinged space with embedded walls painted in a dull, tapestry blue. Every time he ventured a step towards the individual who was resting on the cushy mattress and was basking under the pale artificial light coming from the luminous decorated ceiling, it was described as unavoidable that the carpet would exhale a bearable thuk due to the pressure pressed.

Unhurriedly settling his weight against the sprawling mattress, Manjiro occupied the space beside her resting wife. Her back was pressed against the headrest-- spine tracing the outline of the cushion behind her-- and the direction of her head was kept straight ahead.

Exhaling and inhaling, Manjiro's chest would intermittently heave up and down. His fingers crept towards her hands that was placed neatly on her lap coated by the blanket. Her frame was exposed unmoving, thus seizing this flashing moment, Manjiro has his fingers entwined with hers discreetly: his scrutiny observes her eyes that were described unblinkingly fixated at the wall, seemingly staring at nothingness.

Lifting her hand, his lips graze against the back of her cold and bloodless hand, feeling frost nipping.

"You haven't been waiting that long, have you, my wife?" Manjiro's jagged voice torched, his thumbs drawing circles on the back of her delicate hand, as his warm breath wafted, battling the frost her skin emitted.

Silence.

She portrayed a vague smile, a tender one-- much to his delight. His heart fluttered, the sight he had witnessed was something he certainly did not foresee-- a godsend, he declared. His obsidian hues glimmered with glee, clouded with warmth, as he admire what was transpiring before him. Had she forgiven him? Perhaps, she was pleased when Manjiro has slain the sinner. A sinner that was deserving of endless suffering within the abode of all evil.

Click.

The door parted open.

Although her lips were curved upward, her eyes were allegedly lifeless, devoid of brightness, a taunting impression to be displayed.

Moments flickered, and Manjiro continues to chat with his spouse, enlightening and entertaining her in spite of the fact that he is well aware that she will just keep her lips securely sealed. However, his speculation was proven to be false when Manjiro, without notice, leaned his head on her shoulder-- his white locks cascading, tickling the side of her neck-- her mellifluous voice entered his hearing and ignited the surrounding for a fleet.

"Manjiro..." She whispered quietly, voice sounding feeble. Her lips, which had previously been clasped, had finally unlatched. And this had taken Manjiro by surprise, as it was sudden that it reaped his breathing to hitched and eyes slightly widened, along with his tiny heart that was threatening to flee the cage of ribcage it was contained.

Silence.

"I love you..."

He was flustered, butterfly endowing the whole place. It was the loveliest phrase he could get, with eight letters and three words. Although he had heard it multiple times before, hearing it now seemed rather illusory.

Breathing.

Unbeknownst to Manjiro, a silhouetted person peered through the narrow space between the loosened door and the rooted wall, right outside the chamber where he, Manjiro, remained.

Enduring the whiff of awful scent that continually infiltrated his nostrils, the man whose strands rooted was tinted strawberry blonde persisted eavesdropping to the muffled one-sided conversation occurring. He felt stunned, his mind was rather twirling in the blackness of the galaxies; the curious gaze he firmly held before, was presently exemplified in a manner of horrified. Taking within his sight the view of a dress and a form stiff in the mattress, he was unaware that his breath hitched and his eyes broadened. Sanzu stood frozen on his spot, while his swelling heart rather halted pumping blood due to the shock. It had never crossed his mind, the mere thought that their leader's impulse will lead him into behaving similar to a lunatic.

❛How could this be? She's supposed to be--❜