[ he isn't sure how many hours it's been. his time is measured in places, in nos, in too-lates. he is too late to the lab, too late to the hospital. the university can tell him nothing, the police station is useless, the employees of Woodhurst Watch shake their heads and shoo him out of the offices.
(with every lead that turns cold, with every second he spends being no closer to finding Peter, a string tightens around his lungs, a drop of water drips down his throat, down into his lungs, filling them one by one until he's slowly drowning.)
he sits on a bench, crossing off places in his notebook, one by one until there is nothing left. underneath the list, he writes a question mark.
a second, two, three.
he hurls the notebook away, away, with all the force he can muster — sorry if it ends up hitting you, Reika... ]
REIKA ➙ march 19
(with every lead that turns cold, with every second he spends being no closer to finding Peter, a string tightens around his lungs, a drop of water drips down his throat, down into his lungs, filling them one by one until he's slowly drowning.)
he sits on a bench, crossing off places in his notebook, one by one until there is nothing left. underneath the list, he writes a question mark.
a second, two, three.
he hurls the notebook away, away, with all the force he can muster — sorry if it ends up hitting you, Reika... ]