Kawaita Saika -

Emotional synesthesia. Though they cannot cry, they taste others’ emotions as metallic or fruity notes. Grief tastes like rusted iron. Joy like unripe persimmon.

The sky is a bruise three weeks old. Hari kneels, pressing an ear to the ground. kawaita saika

Hari doesn’t answer. They touch the vial at their throat. The droplet inside hasn’t moved in seventeen years. Emotional synesthesia

They stand. Behind them, a caravan of bone-sellers rattles past. One calls out: Emotional synesthesia. Though they cannot cry