Descriptive Essay - Original Writing
Where 'before ' began, rather, was a different question he avoided asking.
Instead, he took a breath. The firstlings of spring air. The buds of a later, greater blossoming. All of it was what used to make March over glorified.
Above, streams of light peeked from the masses of overhanging fog. Steady foot traffic tread by the shops and alleyways, entire places he had seen the inside-out of without change, and Kabukicho couldn 't have laid stiller than a stone as it had last week. To him, not a thing was wrong here. Okita kept his pace, curious as to what Shimaru had meant by the hurried, almost excited scratches of 'Go quickly. '
There happened to be a fateful incident, Shimaru reported hearing (through an expanse of 'z 's following each word), of a disturbance not too far from the terminal.
There was no reason to hurry; Okita never hurried. He reasoned to ignore the situation altogether and wait for it to fall by Hijikata 's nose. That man was always digging around Kabukicho 's dirty parts, searching for a mess to clean. But Shimaru rejected the idea, emphasized the urgency and absolute necessity behind him going.
Surely enough, the disturbance sat before him. Like it was yesterday.
Perched on the highest roof, Kagura 's leg swung over the edge, elbows rested on her kneecaps, face painted with the most taunting of smirks. Billowed from her…