[ unfortunately for wally, he remembers everything. the feeling of something evil inside him, tainting him, torturing his friends. it's unforgivable. kite is unforgivable. and kite is the only thing stopping wally from blaming himself — though he still feels partially responsible for not being able to do anything when the demon turned on his friends.
he remembers the power coursing through his veins, the ability to break ribs and snap necks at the flick of his wrist or snap of his fingers. he definitely won't be snapping for a good long while, he thinks. he's still too worked up over what he did to fujimaru — the crack of bones breaking at his hand still rings in his ears; he can hardly sleep at night without dreaming about what could have happened if he hadn't decided fujimaru wasn't worth his time. he'd never be able to wash the blood off his hands.
he's hesitant to pick up fujimaru's call. their last encounter plays through his head on repeat, like an endlessly looping youtube video. he has to force himself to think about anything else or he thinks his chest might explode from anxiety. he swallows thickly, trying to reign in his nerves, and forces himself to laugh. laughter is the best medicine, right? ]
... Y-Yeah. Though, uh, I guess that depends on your definition of 'functioning'...
[ he's not entirely sure he is functioning, but he's... something. ]
voice;
he remembers the power coursing through his veins, the ability to break ribs and snap necks at the flick of his wrist or snap of his fingers. he definitely won't be snapping for a good long while, he thinks. he's still too worked up over what he did to fujimaru — the crack of bones breaking at his hand still rings in his ears; he can hardly sleep at night without dreaming about what could have happened if he hadn't decided fujimaru wasn't worth his time. he'd never be able to wash the blood off his hands.
he's hesitant to pick up fujimaru's call. their last encounter plays through his head on repeat, like an endlessly looping youtube video. he has to force himself to think about anything else or he thinks his chest might explode from anxiety. he swallows thickly, trying to reign in his nerves, and forces himself to laugh. laughter is the best medicine, right? ]
... Y-Yeah. Though, uh, I guess that depends on your definition of 'functioning'...
[ he's not entirely sure he is functioning, but he's... something. ]