recountal | reunion;;

reunion;;

Yukimura Residence.
Edo, Japan, January 1864.

[The years have stretched on and on, agonizingly slowly. Part of it is because Chizuru lacks the child-like lack of perspective that makes time fly by so quickly in the earliest years; mostly, it's because the Nagumo are so very cruel. Time flies when one is having fun, but among that clan...

This is the first opportunity she's had in years to even consider a visit to Edo, and though she might pay for it later, she doesn't care. There's something she has to do here, and so here she is, dressed in the finery one would expect of the wife of the young master of the Nagumo. Perhaps it's strange, to see such a finely-dressed young lady in front of the humble Yukimura clinic.

She doesn't care. She just doesn't care.

She is stopped, outside the house, because it's both familiar and unfamiliar at the same time. The house looks mostly the same, but the subtle differences, are they there because it's not her that's living there? All the touches of a young woman are gone. Chizuru has never lived here, but Kaoru has, and -

The differences are Kaoru's touch. That eases the knot of tension in her gut the slightest bit and gives her the courage to move forward, to call into the house as though she's a patient and this is a perfectly normal visit.]

Excuse me? I was wondering if perhaps I might speak with Yukimura-sensei...

[He won't be here. She's sure he won't, sure she's remembered the timing because her memories are all that's gotten her through the years at the hands of those horrible people, but that's okay. He isn't the one she is here to see.

She's depending on the fact that it will be Kaoru who will answer her call.]

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[The sound of his name draws his attention over, though it's slow, like her voice has to pierce through a thick wall before actually reaching him. He's confused - it doesn't show on his face, but he's confused and it's starting to make him feel cornered and panicked. Her hand is extended between them both but it's like he can't see it at all, even though he wants to set his bowl down to reach for it instinctively.

Why is she so far away?

He thinks it automatically and knows that it doesn't make sense, but it just serves to upset him further. Why is there this gap between them - this distance? He doesn't understand it. She's a stranger, someone that he just met recently and lent a room to so that she would have a place to stay. A place away from that clan, that clan, and a strong bubble of nausea rises in him when his thoughts drift that way. His hands are shaking badly by now, enough so that the quail egg gently rolls from the side of his spoon and drops to the table, but he doesn't seem to notice that either.]

It— I can't... I can't breathe—

[His grip on both the bowl and the spoon remains tight as ever and he doesn't seem to be having any trouble breathing, but there's a note of clear panic in his voice. He can't see, either - not well, anyway. The tears that had welled up before are now rolling down his cheeks, obscuring Chizuru's awkwardly outstretched hand from him. The feeling of nostalgia, briefly warm, is now biting and painful, sitting heavily on his chest.]

What..?!

[There are only a few things that could send more panic coursing through Chizuru than there is right now; Kaoru being physically injured is one of them, but tears rolling down his cheeks and an "I can't breathe" is bad enough, and she nearly chokes on her panic herself. His breathing looks okay, but that doesn't really mean anything in the end; the hand that is awkwardly extended between them goes to his back to feel his breathing, and the other comes up to try and wipe away some of his tears before reaching for his trembling hand.]

You're... focus on the sound of my voice, okay? [It's shrill and terrified; she doesn't want anything to happen to him. Is she the cause of him being like this now? ...maybe, but she can't just abandon him.] You'll be okay. Just... inhale, exhale... inhale, exhale... you'll be alright. You can breathe. It's alright. It'll be fine..!

[It has to be fine, it can't not be fine, Kaoru is someone who needs to be protected at all costs. She would slaughter anyone for his sake - she's dirtied her hands already - but what's affecting him now isn't something she can hurt or kill, and that's even more terrifying.]

[Chizuru, despite the panic in her voice, is doing something that normally would help tether him to the ground in any other situation. Having something to pin his focus on would normally do him worlds of good. But this... Something about hearing Chizuru's voice in particular just makes the pressure worsen. Though his breathing had been fine to start, it seems like he's working himself up so badly that he's starting to actually have trouble with it. It comes to him in short gasps, a gentle whistling noise accompanying each inhale. He tries to force words out regardless, but his ribcage feels like it's being pressed inward, compacting his lungs and throat.

When she touches his hand, he starts so badly that the bowl drops from it. He's somewhere else entirely; the hand on his own is unkind, and the clatter of that bowl hitting the table - the mess it's surely made - will bring him such horrific punishment that he knows he'll be sick from it. He feels sick. The tightness in his chest has migrated, opening up a pit in his stomach that seems like it could swallow him whole.]

No! No—!! [His voice is shrill, but Kaoru can hardly hear himself. The spoon drops to the table too and his hands wind into his hair instead, tugging, anxious, before he pushes himself away from the table.] Chizuru, Chizuru— I still— I still can't- [His wild mind still doesn't entirely understand why he's calling for her, but he needs to. Chizuru is the only anchor keeping him tied to this world. To "this" world...?

His hands drop, one immediately covering his mouth. An unpleasant gagging noise follows and Kaoru's turning on his heel, blindly crashing his way out of the room.]

[Nothing she's doing is helping. She wants more than anything to be able to really help him, but - she's just making it worse. He drops the bowl and then the spoon, and his hand goes up into his hair in a gesture that is so hauntingly familiar that it makes her stomach churn.

No, that's not a habit he should have cultivated here -

She rises to her feet as he gets up and turns away, and for a moment she is left there in that room alone. But only a moment. She doesn't want to scare him by giving chase, but she can't just leave him alone to his sickness, either. She hurries after him but takes care not to come too close and invade his personal space, because although every fiber of her being is screaming Hold him, comfort him, protect him, if even just a simple touch to his hand was enough to set him off, she can't risk what doing that will do to him.

But she wants to be able to do what she can - to protect him, she'll go to any lengths.]

Kaoru..! [He'd called out for her before; she calls back to him now.] I'm here... You're going to be okay..! I promise, you'll be okay..!

[The first place that his feet carry him to is the porch, because it's outside and suddenly everything inside just feels so horribly stifling. It's like he's looking at the interior of an entirely different house, and the walls that pass him by in a dizzy blur on his way out seem completely foreign and oppressive. He feels as though he doesn't belong, like he's a stranger in a building that he knows (knows?) he had grown up in. It makes bile rise in the back of his throat, and with it comes a deep-rooted feeling of - loathing, despair, anger. They're old, old feelings; it's almost like reaching into a chest and dusting off prized heirlooms.

These horrible, rotten things have been with him all along, he knows - he knows that almost immediately, because of how easily they come to him. He's struck by the fear that maybe he's been an equally rotten person all along, harboring this sort of decay. Maybe he deserves this. A word echoes in the back of his mind - worthless - and it draws up a raw, short and frightful scream, sucking the strength from his legs.

He teeters at the porch edge before collapsing, immediately retching over the side. It's impossible for him to even register where he is right now and Chizuru's words are little more than a distant buzz, drowned out by the harsh pulse of blood at his eardrums.

Still he searches, coughing once his mostly empty stomach has been emptied fully. Curling up doesn't help to alleviate anything, but he does anyway, wiping feebly at his face.]

Chizuru... Chizuru, where— Where are you...?

I'm right here!

[The answer is immediate and it comes from the doorframe leading out to the porch, where Chizuru is hovering, unsure if she should get closer or if she should just stay where she is and answer when he calls.]

Um—

[But he's thrown up, he probably feels wretched, and the taste of bile that's surely in his mouth can't be at all pleasant. She doesn't know how to take away the pain he's feeling, but she thinks she can do something about that, at least.]

I'll be right back... hold on, okay?

[She vanishes back into the house.

...but only for a few seconds, because she's moving as quickly as she can to get a cup of water for him to drink and a cool cloth to wash his face, and then she's by his side, crouching down next to him and holding them out because it's all she can think of to do.]

Here... it might help...

[It's almost like snow blindness with how he looks around and sees nothing, even though there is nothing physically wrong with his eyes. Nothing about this place is familiar, even though it is. He's too disoriented to be able to tell where he's ended up just yet, so in the end he simply tries to focus on Chizuru's voice, listening and waiting and breathing in harsh and uneven gasps. He's not calmed down by a long shot, but when he hears her footsteps heading toward him... something about that is enough to bring him down at least a little. If nothing else, he no longer feels the pressing urge to lean over and dry heave anymore.

When she offers the glass to him, he looks at it with confusion beneath the panic and the harsh upset. A glass, a glass - water. Right, he needs to drink it. He reaches out, hand still shaking, to take it. Even if it isn't filled very high, he'll likely still manage to spill some trying to get a sip, because his motor control is severely limited for the time being and he honestly can't even tell if his hand is getting anywhere near his mouth.

He'll succeed eventually though, making a soft noise as the foul taste is washed away and his throat is soothed. He doesn't reach up for the washcloth just yet - doesn't see a point in it. He's supposed to use it to clean his face, but the tears haven't stopped yet.]

Why... did that happen—? I can't see, I can't see anything...

[Even his voice seems heavily afflicted by tremors, rising and falling gracelessly. He can see - it's not like he's literally blind, but he's having so much difficulty putting himself back into his own body in the right order.]

I don't know... I'm sorry...

[They did something. The producers have to have done something, because if this had all gone right, if their hands are totally clean and they lived up to their promises, Kaoru shouldn't have any kind of trauma in his life that would give rise to this (except for the death of their family, but even that should be buried more deeply than sharing a meal could affect him like this).]

But it's... you aren't alone. [He must be terrified. He's feeling unwell and having trouble feeling and seeing and thinking - he must be absolutely terrified. She wants to reach out and hold him, to rub circles into his back, to smooth down his hair and whisper words of comfort to him and banish away anything that might hurt him, but she doesn't know if that's within her power anymore.

After a moment, though, she brings her hand to gently touch the side of his face. If he doesn't react too terribly to that, she'll try and wipe his tears away, even as they keep coming.]

I'm here. ...I'm so sorry. I'm here. You're going to be okay... just focus on the sound of my voice. Don't think about anything else.

[He does jump a little at first, but if she doesn't let that deter her, he won't move away any further. He recognizes this hand. Even through his haze of confusion, he fully recognizes it and it brings him a little comfort - not enough comfort to soothe away his anxiety entirely, but enough to ground him a little more. She'll be able to wipe away his tears without his interference, though it seems they won't be slowing any time soon. There's not enough awareness present, self or outwardly directed, telling him to get a hold of himself, to stop, to not burden a veritable stranger with this breakdown.

Her words, though... He can't focus on her voice even though he knows he should. Something about it is still deeply upsetting to him, like it shouldn't be here, or maybe that he shouldn't be listening to it. The place and time is all wrong. This entire scenario is wrong; that feeling settles deeply in him, impossible to shake even as his thoughts gather just a little.

Eventually, he sets the glass down and raises his shaky hand to touch the back of Chizuru's. His fingertips are wet with condensation from the outside of the glass and from water that had spilled in his tremors. There isn't much strength behind it, either intentionally delicate or because he simply doesn't have a lot in him right now.]

You— aren't worthless...

[The need to say that bubbles up before he can stop it, and he instinctively knows why. It's a word that haunts him, and that part of himself that's slowly starting to come to understands that it's a word Chizuru's surely heard throughout her lifetime. The context is different - why? Because Kaoru had been worthless for a different reason. Biological incompatibility.

But he knows they'll have found a reason to apply the same word to Chizuru.]

Edited 2014-10-22 11:17 (UTC)

[She'll keep at it, then - even as the tears continue to come, she'll continue to wipe them away, as gently as is possible for anyone who was raised among the Nagumo. There is a certain amount of tenderness that she's never shown to anyone else in this lifetime - never had the reason to, because that clan doesn't deserve it and this is the first she's seen her brother since she made sure their fates were altered. If she considers his breakdown a burden she doesn't say so.

...it isn't a burden at all, though. Not to her. If it's burdening anyone, it's burdening him - this sudden rush of feeling that the world is coming apart, that nothing is fitting together the way it should, is something that he shouldn't have had to deal with up until now and the only reason he's experiencing it now is probably because of her. She needs to apologize to him -

She can't even protect the one person she wants to protect most -

He chokes out those three words, and Chizuru is left stunned.]

...neither... are you.

[He's not wrong, to assume they've found a way to ingrain that into her. On some level she thinks that they're right (she would believe it fully if this was the only life she ever knew, if she hadn't gone back and chosen this to spare him from it), but it's buried deep down - insidious, waiting for the moment where her guard is down so it can sweep over her. Most of the time she can hold it at bay.

She's not doing so good at that now, though.]

[He has two lives now, too, even though his memories are sorting themselves agonizingly slow and in the wrong order. He knows what it's like to grow up with a measure of worth - with a loving parent, good neighbors, a mundane but reachable goal. Though he's been involved in the ochimizu even in this life, it hadn't been anywhere near enough to make a dent in the placid, peaceful bend of time that seemed to stretch endlessly before him.

But that's wrong. This is not the life that he was meant to live. The tranquility of it isn't suited for him, like he's living on time borrowed from a stranger. Except it hasn't been borrowed from a stranger at all, has it?

His eyes raise to Chizuru's face, searching it. There is something direly important about this person. It's difficult for him to grasp at the train of thought when so many are at odds in his mind; his fingers press against her hand a little more.]

Kindness— That kindness... ["Neither are you", even though he's dimly aware of the fact that Chizuru is suffering alongside him. More, likely - what kind of bitterness has she experienced in this lifetime? How much strength does it take for her to be able to wipe his tears away like this? To sit with him in this awful situation?] You... were always a gentle person.

[A statement, not a question.]

[She brings her other hand up to the back of his as he searches her face. What he's looking for, she doesn't know; if he's seeking out traces of the sister he grew up alongside in their ancestral lands, he likely won't find them - Yukimura Chizuru is all but dead and buried, or at least buried deep within her.

What he'll find is almost a mirror of his own face as it was in the past. That, more than anything else, is what's prevalent here - years and years living with the Nagumo, and before that, the months in that terrible castle, the subtle altering of her mind to the point that she was willing to trade a total of three lives (her victims and the person she'd scapegoated) so that he would have a chance to live out his life in peace.

But that's not what happened here after all, and it's not a kindness, and she can't help but shake her head when he makes his observation.]

No.

[That's all she can say. No. A kind person would have found a way to save him without sacrificing others; a gentle person wouldn't have done the things that she has.

And if she really wanted him to live in peace, she would have stayed far, far away from him.

She really isn't a good sister to Kaoru at all.]

[He shakes his head almost immediately at that, because it's so at odds with the sister that he remembers - or is remembering, rather. The memories return stilted, unfocused, and he can't harness enough concentration or energy to actually try discerning what's inside of them just yet. He just knows that this woman with a face so like his own (in more ways than one, he's starting to see, and that scares him) is someone that he was supposed to... protect?

...That isn't quite right. It isn't wrong, either - there's a fierce underlying sense of devotion and dedication when he thinks of Chizuru as his little sister. But the sentiment is not so pure, and his subconscious mind makes that known quickly. There is something wrong with his intentions, and his face screws up in an expression that mimics someone in pain. It's not physical pain he's in, though - not really. It's still hard for him to breathe, but even that's secondary in comparison to this unpleasant sweep of long-buried thoughts and sentiments.

Again, he shakes his head. He reaches up with his other hand, grasping desperately, latching on to her sleeve like he's afraid she'll pull away and leave him if he doesn't keep her anchored.]

You are, you are, you are, you are—! Why...? No— You did so much— [She has always been kind to him, hasn't she? Even when... For some reason - why, why hadn't he ever reciprocated? What had stopped him?] Because— you're my cute little sister...

[The words sit like lead on his tongue. It's meant as an endearment, but he knows at the same time that it's far, far from that.]

That's...

[It's true, it's true, she's his sister - and she wants him to know it as much as she doesn't. He's safer if he doesn't, would probably be happier if she just stayed away, but she's felt so wretched and been so lonely for so long that she wants him to understand. And the twisted, bitter part of her knows that he will because he's lived the life she has already.

But no, that's wrong, she's supposed to protect him. Can she stop the rest of his memories from coming if she denies it? But she doesn't want to deny it—

He's her brother, he's her brother, they should have just stayed together all along...]

I love you... [It comes out small and broken-sounding.] I wanted— To protect you. I want to protect you.

[Hearing that - "I love you" - he needs to hear it, but it also wrenches a low, horrible, pained noise from him; something that teeters on the edge inhuman because god, remembering hurts.

He... has never been a good brother to her, has he? Not in this life, not in that distant-but-coming-closer life that he had been forced to leave behind. In that one... why had he hated her so much? He can't remember the reason yet, but he can recall the sentiment, bitter and heavy and sharp. It fills him like a heavy sludge, though his mind is at least able to discern that these aren't his emotions. Or... they are - they are, but not. They're the ones that he left behind with that terrible life.]

I love you... I missed you...! [And now that he's said it, the loneliness seems to sweep over him like such a strong tidal wave that he really can't breathe for a second. He's drowning in just how alone he's been. Years and years and years.

Ah... That's why he had been angry, isn't it? Because Chizuru had forgotten him in the same way that he had forgotten Chizuru in this life. His grip becomes more desperate, knuckles white, eyes wide and panicked.]

I'm— I'm sorry- I never meant— [It's still impossible for him to thread together a proper sentence though, and he breaks off with an unpleasant cough.]

[His grip tightening on her hand is what spurs her into action; she loosens her other hand from his and leans forward to bridge the gap between them, to wrap her arm around him and hold tight to him. She can't tell if she's shaking, or if he's shaking, or if they both are.

She knows she feels like she's about to cry.]

Shh. Shhh.

[She doesn't want or need his apologies. She chose this - she chose it, and that's the only thing that's kept her from becoming so twisted over the years that she might lash out at him now. She's much more like the way he was in their first life than the way she was, but she isn't so far gone that she can derive happiness from his pain.

...but she can't foster her own happiness without him being there, either.]

You don't need to apologize to me... I don't want to hear that...!

[She may be shaking, too, but Kaoru certainly is. When she holds him, the tremors only seem to increase, but he'll refuse to allow her the room necessary to pull away. He needs her to be close - he desperately needs to know that she'll forgive him for forgetting, that she won't abandon him now that something - something has gone wrong. This isn't the way it's supposed to be at all, on so many levels. He can only think to himself over and over please please please don't go.]

I— I hadn't even realized... I couldn't remember... I still— I can't remember...

[There are a lot of things that he can't remember - gaps in his memories that stand out hauntingly. ...But they're filling in. He hopes that they'll fill in the rest of the way, because he really doesn't think he can continue living if he's left like this, caught halfway between the person that he was meant to be and this new and suddenly foreign self that he still can't pinpoint coming into existence.]

I only wanted... No— I wanted... What had I wanted—?

[She can't tell him what he wanted. Maybe it's because she never understood, or maybe it's because she doesn't want to be the one to tell him just how warped and twisted his goals were.

He's going to remember at some point - Chizuru can see now that it's inevitable. And she's terrified, of what he'll say and do and feel once he remembers. She has to stay close. It's the only thing she can do - she has to stay close. Her hold on him tightens even though he isn't giving her any room to back off, because as desperately as he's thinking Please don't go, she's thinking Please don't push me away.]

It's— [It's not okay. It's not going to be fine.] You aren't alone... I'm here, okay? Whatever you remember... whatever it is you wanted...

[She buries her face in his shoulder.]

I'm here. We're together...

[Rather than abating, the heaviness within him only seems to grow. It's a sick sort of feeling, but he's also rapidly running out of energy. Remembering an entire lifetime is hard, especially when that lifetime had been less than pleasant. He's already so exhausted, but he finds the strength in him to continue clinging like Chizuru is the life raft keeping his head above water.

His voice, when he speaks again, is terribly small.]

I don't want to remember that.

[It's terrible, it's a terrible thing and he doesn't want to face what that means for him. If all of these rotten things are within him, doesn't that make him a rotten person? Sick to the core - someone that Chizuru would be better off without, but he can't let her go now. He can't. It's selfish, but he's a selfish person, isn't he?

...Maybe it would be better if he cut her loose while there's still time.]

[She brings one hand up to his head and runs her fingers through his hair, as soothingly as she possibly can - she wants to smooth this transition for him, wants to make his memories settling into place as easy as possible, if she can prevent it. And oh, how she wishes she could prevent it, particularly when he speaks.]

If I could stop you from remembering it, I would.

[Her voice breaks at the end of the sentence because she knows she can't. Being by his side means that he's going to remember - and it would be even worse now, to start this process and vanish because she can't face what she's done by coming here. She can't abandon him now.

(She doesn't want to be abandoned.)

She needs to be here for him.

(She wishes he'd been there for her.)

Maybe it's okay to be selfish this time, now that everything is crashing down around them...]

Don't go anywhere. I'm begging you— Don't go...

[The fingers running through his hair both soothe and agitate him, but nothing doesn't agitate him in his current state. He feels too delicate, too sensitive - everything seems to be poised to hurt him, to make him feel small and awful.

But he can't hold it against Chizuru. Not Chizuru - not his precious sister. The most important person in the world to him, who he had forgotten for so long... He doesn't think he'll be able to forgive himself for that, even though a small, vindictive corner of his dormant mind whispers to him that this is being even. He violently pushes that thought away, shaking his head against her as he pulls himself closer still. Maybe this closeness will be able to relieve some of the toxic feelings that are bubbling to the surface. He wants nothing to do with those heavy weights.]

I won't— I'll never go anywhere! I don't want to leave! Please, please, please—

[He doesn't want her to leave either, but he's so afraid. She knows - she knows, doesn't she? About this rottenness inside of him... He suddenly feels hideously ashamed.]

[Each one of them trying and failing to get closer and closer - because there's only so much they can do, when they're both so broken up and twisted inside and he's still in the throes of regaining his memories and she's panicked about the fact that he's going to remember.]

You don't have to leave. Don't leave... please...

[She murmurs the words and tries (but fails) to still her trembling. She knows about the rottenness inside of him, but now that he's remembering his own life with the Nagumo, she also knows that he'll be able to figure out what's inside of her - that one thought, I want to protect him, that has been hammered down and refined into He's my brother, a possessiveness that manifests itself in the way she clutches onto him so tightly that it's completely obvious she's terrified he's going to disappear.

—And what if he remembers his hatred for her, too? His resentment? She would be lying if she said she didn't resent the life he lived here, even though she was the one to give it to him. If he starts to resent her all over again, if he hates her, she'll have nothing left. The thought makes her ill and her breath hitches.]

Don't hate me— Please forgive me—

[For forgetting him in their first life, for plunging them into this second life without consulting him, for lying to him when she appeared here - for not coming clean about who she was right away...]

I love you, I really love you, please believe me...! Please...

[His breath comes to him in great big terrified heaves, and he really is trying to get closer because he's suddenly struck by the paralyzing fear that he will disappear. This body may still be left behind, and there may still be a consciousness within it, but will it be his? Even with the memories of this new life he's lead, can he call that person "himself"? He isn't entirely sure, and that's what leaves him breathless. He's only just got his sister back; he can't possibly be taken away so soon.

His grip tightens further still, possessing more strength than his shaking hands would suggest.]

I do— I believe you! I couldn't— I could never hate you... I love you, I love you, I love you so much! [But that love feels wrong to him. It's heavier than it should be, more like a shackle than a warm hand to hold. He presses his face into the crook of her neck, face still wet with tears, trying and failing to calm himself.]

There's nothing to forgive you for. I love you so much... I love you, I'm sorry— I'm so sorry! [He's starting to feel a little lightheaded, his gaze drifting even further out of focus.]

Don't— Don't apologize..!

[There's a shrill note of panic and she would shake her head, if she weren't already clinging to him with her face buried in his shoulder; her grip on him shifts a little and she readjusts it so that she can hold him even more tightly.]

Don't say "I'm sorry"... it, it sounds like what you really mean is "Goodbye."

[Because why else would he apologize to her if she's not going to lose him? He doesn't have to apologize if they stay together because if he really feels the need to, he'll be able to make it up to her day by day, just like she'll be able to make it up to him for the way she failed him in their first life and the way she's completely wrecked their second.]

I just— I want you. I want my brother again, I don't want to lose you, not ever... [His shoulder is damp with tears; she sounds almost delirious, and well, she is. Her breathing is panicked and uneven, and while she's not losing focus the same way he is, she's definitely not clearminded at all.]

[For several long moments, he keeps his face buried and obscured from the morning air, trying and failing to collect himself. It's too hard - his thoughts are too scattered, and Chizuru's panic only ends up feeding his own.]

I don't want to lose you, either!

[But he's desperately scared. The person that he was wasn't worth knowing. The person that he is now had forgotten all about her, living a charmed life in the same way that she had once before and he hates himself for it on a level that truly frightens him. Why is it so upsetting? Why had he been so angry with Chizuru for - for things entirely out of her hands? His breath catches in his throat and he makes a pitiful noise, but the power behind his voice is leaving.

More memories are surfacing. A house - a manor? More confusion, strange faces, the term designated killer. His face is almost completely without color now, with how much blood has drained from it.]

Please don't let me go...

Edited 2014-10-23 06:52 (UTC)

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