[The girl scowls, hunching back more like a wild animal than a small child, and glances behind her. She appears to be looking at a rocky overhang, an opening between them barely visible behind walls of hanging, dry seaweed.
And here, too, is a memory; a brief glimpse more than anything else, of Makie sitting on sun-warmed rocks here on this beach playing her shamisen. She looks ill, cheeks gaunt, and her kimono still shows streaks of mud on the lower edges of it. The blonde child is shambling up to her solemnly, also covered in muddy streaks, and Makie stops playing to glance at her. And her smile is both sweet and full of relief.
no subject
And here, too, is a memory; a brief glimpse more than anything else, of Makie sitting on sun-warmed rocks here on this beach playing her shamisen. She looks ill, cheeks gaunt, and her kimono still shows streaks of mud on the lower edges of it. The blonde child is shambling up to her solemnly, also covered in muddy streaks, and Makie stops playing to glance at her. And her smile is both sweet and full of relief.
"Lilly. There you are."]