Indifference — 2025.09.21

Note;

Hurt/comfort except that’s not true because there’s no one to comfort him and it’s just him reaching acceptance

Fall had arrived faster than anticipated, he hadn’t even felt the temperatures dropping until it was far too late. Sat on a bench under an almost completely bare tree, Kamuro stared down at one of his hands while the other adjusted the scarf he’d been wearing. Perhaps he had spent too long dreading the cold to enjoy what still lasted of the leftover warmth. How stupid he’d been. 

Days seemed shorter now, he notes, as he drifts his gaze towards the darkening skies instead. The crisp air caressing his face didn’t feel as unpleasant as he thought it would, it made him wonder if there had actually been something worth fearing from this season. He felt silly now, having wasted the perfect days of summer consumed in sadness.

Unlike what he thought, he wasn’t depressed about the change… Not as depressed, at least. Not about the same things. Feelings worked in strange ways after all— Though maybe he was the strange one here. The man leaned back on the bench, his eyebrows creasing as he continues to stare at the sky above. Stars were beginning to show and the street lamps were buzzing to life, it was starting to get colder, but he didn’t care. It was a sunday, he had nothing to do.

Kamuro didn’t feel sad, no. It was a rather complicated thing to explain.

He couldn’t find proper words to describe what he was feeling, maybe because he failed to grasp what exactly said feeling was. The best way to put it, he muses, is emptiness. The grief was still there, strong, palpable— But he no longer beared the painful need to cry, or the debilitating sadness he once possessed. Lingering nostalgia, or perhaps leftover longing, his grief persisted in a mess of complex thoughts and sensations.

Grieving is strange. 

Sometimes, it’s about losing a loved one, not getting to ever see them again. Other times, it’s not about physical loss, but the loss of a shared bond— You can still see and still can touch, but you no longer feel a certain way. Distress and anguish were his thing, he was used to those, but now? He wasn’t even sure if those were the emotions plaguing him. Mostly, he was confused.

Confused and empty, yes, but in a way, at peace. There was a chance this was his new normal, and there wasn’t any actual way to deal with it other than accepting his circumstances and trying to work with them. He closes his eyes, taking in a deep calming breath of the cool autumn air. It was okay, or, it would eventually be. He just had to keep his head up and continue forward. It wasn’t like anyone other than himself could help him deal with the prison his mind turned out to be.

How many times has he reassured himself things would be okay, only for life to laugh in his face? He’s lost count a long time ago, and he’s not even sure it changes much at this point.

Even if someone else offered to help, he wouldn’t accept. Vulnerability is not his thing, the thought of genuinely opening up to anyone sickens him— it was plain humiliation, and anxiety inducing.

Nonetheless, he knows he’s capable of pulling himself together alone—even though he is in fact, not alone in the slightest—and live a fulfilling life. The pain, the sadness, the fear and the grief, they all would stay; but they would not kill him. 

He can do this. What’s one more tragedy, in a life full of misery? Whatever fate has in store for him, he decides he will stay strong and stand his ground. Things would be okay, he continues to reassure himself, even with the knowledge things could go south in the blink of an eye.