Chapter Text
The stifling heat feels like a wool blanket that’s collapsed over all of this small town, suffocating everyone in it. Especially him.
Nagisa feels like cotton’s been shoved in his lungs, cramped up in that musty, dark room, but he makes no attempt to move from his spot on the bed. Bloodshot blue eyes creep from one corner of the room to another, and slender pale arms are folded over his knees, in a trancelike state. The heat doesn’t leave any room for thinking, and though his expression implies contemplation, his mind’s devoid of thought. There’s only a blurred silhouette, and a daunting concept left by a ghost that leaves him trembling slightly despite the heat. The memory tries to solidify itself, but Nagisa squeezes his eyes his eyes tight and shakes his head wildly to prevent it from coming into focus. In a moment of desperation, he pushes himself up from the bed and makes slowly ambles his way out of his room and into the foyer. His mother’s eyes widen slightly as she sees him pass her by without a second glance, but says nothing as her son opens the front door and walks out onto the porch as if everything is alright again.
The air is dusty and suffocating, and the sun beats down harshly on the back of his neck, but he’s grateful for the distraction. The dirt road he ambles down is completely empty, leaving him to his lack of thought. He’s been painfully distant with his friends, anyhow, quiet and staring out into space, more like an animated corpse than a person. Everything feels almost surreal, like the sound of a crackling, disfigured voice on the other end of a phone call with poor connection. Nagisa could screamed at them if he wanted, but he didn’t think it would make any difference. It was all a waste of energy. Gazing into a stretch of wheat fields distorted by the heat’s glare, he feels like he’s watching the cutscene of a videogame that plays after the main character dies. You can no longer interact, only watch the events unfold before you.
His eyes are dull and watery despite the glow of the afternoon. The feeling still breathes down the back of his neck, waiting for him to make a decision.
It’s been four months. He decides to remember.