The only sound that swims inside her head is Oda's anguished, mind breaking cry. She slowly steps out of the cab, her eyes freakishly wide and undiluted. Her thoughts run in rivers turning oceans. He's blue- he's forgotten who he is. 

Why... didn't I do anything earlier

Oda 

Oda

Odasaku

She watches sullenly, her own throat constricting with horror and guilt that plagues her soul. Oda's hunched over on his knees and hands, screaming and screaming, his wailing and harsh, broken cries pierce her lungs- 

-I can't breathe I can't breathe I can't breathe

Oh god. The children.

They were children.

Her wide, shattered gaze haunts down to the hilt of her sabre. This is the second time she's failed to protect her family. Her trembling hands, still clutching the papers as if it is a lifeline; paper bending and scrunching in the middle, creating pallid ghosts. The sounds of creaking floorboard, crashing waves and panicked screaming fills her ears along with the crackling of the fire and Oda's voice breaking. She can hear so many panicked cries. 

Broken masts

Ineko's threat convulses as she hoarsely screams as well, her voice cracking and breaking with every shatter of Odasaku's heart. She can't help but compare him- compare him to the crew on the Interrogator. Both he and the crew are what she considers family; and both have died before their time. She knows. Ineko knows that Oda's mind has been broken, and it is only a matter of time before Oda's body is broken too. 

Broken smiles

She can only glance at Oda's bent over body before she looks away. She can't. She can't help him. He's beyond saving, and so is she. That's what they get for being in the Port Mafia. 

Broken minds

He looks too much like them; all bent over like that, grief racking frail hearts and bodies. She can see a ship sailing into the sky, wood painted blue with limp bodies swaying with the masts. Red is a feature; so similar to Oda's hair. Red is the feature of- 

-the dead

Ineko sways on her feet, eyes rolling to the back of her head. Her fingers suddenly fall limp, and the papers begin spiralling with the wind; white sheets that dance and whisk away sanity. Saliva gathers at the corners of her mouth as she whispers so many horrid things that screech just as loud as Oda's voice breaking wails.

He's broken- broken like everyone else. 

She crumbles down onto her knees, fiery heat flicking at her face as the fire dances its ritual victoriously around the burning flesh of children. Black pillars of smoke bleed into the sky. 

Oh my god oh my god oh my god
Please
Not again not again nOt AgAiN
haaaaah... ahaha... ha... ahahhaAHAhAhaHAhAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
NO 

NO

NO
NO OH GOD PLEASE NO-

"-Come, Ineko." Dazai's hand flickers into her white vision. She looks up, tears in the corner of her eyes at the brown haired man, whose outstretched hand reaches her through her thin films of regret and buried thoughts. 

"Dazai?" His mouth is set in a grim line, and his eyes are frantic as they flicker up to Odasaku. She stands up, wiping away salty tears, and sets her mouth in a line. Ineko can't believe it. She's been so selfish- she's throwing a pity party for herself when Odasaku is screaming at the loss of the children. 

Two sets of light footsteps approaches Oda, and two people crouch down on either side of him. Dazai stays there, unmoving, only observing. Ineko reaches out and places a hand on top of Oda's head, mouthing at Dazai to do something- anything. 

But, as soon as Oda's throat is leached dry from screams, Oda looks up, and his gaze is nothing short of being haunted. Dazai pulls Oda to his feet; he can't do anything else. A person who only knows how to kill can never offer comfort. 

The girl doesn't move from her spot. Ineko stays crouched down, staring down at the cement as her eyes become unfocused. Her hand reaches out slowly, and fingers curl around as if grasping something - or someone. She wishes that she got to Mori faster, but now, she can only help Oda- she can only help in the killing of Odasaku; she will help him shut down Mimic. 

Ineko won't allow herself to talk to Oda out of revenge, because she knows that Oda is already screwed up.

Oda's dream of becoming a writer will never be anything more than a fantasy taken to the grave.