"Azuma…" her was soft, distant, "don't lose yourself."
Strange.
Azuma thought.
The way she spoke was strange.
He couldn't understand what she exactly meant, and he wanted to ask about it and ask about so many other things. But something about the way she looked at the mist as if she had already lost herself…
It made Azuma unable to say anything.
They silently entered the mist.
And Azuma wasn't too worried because he knew that they would survive, and then there will be enough time for the unfinished talks.
If they couldn't, then dying while fighting to death wasn't too bad of an idea either.
Inside the mist, not much changed besides the shrouded vision. The air was a little colder, and the ground was rising towards an uphill.
Azuma and Shiro wore their masks.
Time was slow, tiring, and dreadful.
