「 please just show me a smile 」

[traumereii]

you often wonder what it means to be a kind person.

faced with a sobbing, gasping woman pinning you down with a fork in her hands, it's all you can do to helplessly cradle her cheek as a last means for comfort, even though you're aware of the fact that it's you yourself who had brought torment upon her. she flinches away from your touch like she's been burned, and you don't blame her. despite your well intentions, she still shakes as she points the fork at your throat, crying out "why does it hurt so much? what do i do to stop this pain?"

you have no answer for your cries, and she sobs harder at your silence. even as she's dragged away by other people and you no longer feel the weight of another body pinning you against the ground, your eyes remain fixated on the fork held tightly in her hands. you watch as her fingers turn almost white from the pressure, and─someone helps you up, murmuring to you about what a horrible experience it must've been, and you can only nod mutely.

it's not quite the first time something of this degree has happened to you. it comes with the jobs and expectations of the line of work you do, where you hear people out as they drown in their sorrows in alcohol and offer few words and maybe a hug or two. you're aware that people project messily all over your existence because of how unassuming your existence is, and although you know that there were times you should've rightfully put a stop to it─before something like this happens again─you didn't. all because you knew that it brought them comfort to find respite in your being. truly, it's not really their fault that these things happen.

although your "kindness" may be seen as more of a curse to some, you think that it's your duty to be a pillar for those in need, however misplaced that belief may be. in a way, it's your own form of salvation for yourself in a life where you can only play the role of a bystander, gently offering placid and inconsequential words that don't really mean anything in the end.

(your world is as colourless as the gray in your hair, and in a moment of desperation to change the kind of person you are, you haphazardly dye the ends of your locks. it's a messy job, with splashes of purple and magenta, but it makes you feel more alive. just a little more.)

and then you meet them─an excitable university student and a quiet white-coat hacker who each takes you by the hand and forcefully drags you headfirst into their world. it's nothing at all what you've experienced before in your monotonous life; from the very get-go, you slide into the dynamic like a fitted puzzle piece. it's like something clicked into place in you.

and─for the first time in years, you begin to see how colour is created. the red from the student mixes with the blue from the hacker, and you can only smile to yourself when you offer your purple. it's a perfect mix, and you think you've found your place. things like kindness and duty and whatnot; you've already pushed it to the very back of your mind. all that matters is living in the moment now, with the companions you stumbled upon almost by pure chance.

maybe you can't be considered a kind person, but at the very least, you think that you're happy and that it's okay for you to be living for yourself.

looking at their faces, you can only look forward towards the future.

[traumereii]

on the days that they die earlier than expected, it's all maki can manage to stagger into her room, crumpling to the floor in a fit of exhaustion. time continues to flow forward until the fated hour, and no matter how much maki wishes it so, it doesn't move any faster.

there's a distinct feeling of loss that she feels in her heart at misha's existence (or lack thereof, in this case), but it only amplifies itself whenever maki remains stagnant. of course she's stagnant when there's nothing to do, though; nothing left to do but wait for the clock to tick because misha is already dead and the only option─something she's experienced firsthand many times already─is to sit back and breathe. wait. exist. lose the meaning of her own existence.

it's also during times like this that maki painfully recovers the fragments of their other friends and companions who had long since departed the world and don't exist anymore within the loops.

all masters of the sword in their own right, they each pledged their allegiance to the tower and, subsequently, misha.

mei, who moved with the power and control as a clap of thunder. ever since her soft, mousy-gray hair was singed with her power, she deigned to chop it off. yet, it was still the softest thing that maki had ever ran her hands through. (she was the first to go and no one ever saw it coming. struck to the ground with the electricity she once called her friend, the group witnessed first hand how the tower would employ any means to ensure absolute loyalty, and no one─not even someone who moved as fast as light itself─would be able to escape their grasps. nothing remained of her aside from the things she left in her room, and even then seldom was found. it's almost as though mei had seen her fate and taken appropriate steps to control the damage her death would inevitably inflict on everyone else. for someone so blunt and harsh, this minuscule show of kindness meant so much more and cut so much deeper.)

mio, who never once lost his dignity and poise even when faced with certain danger. he was never one to be particularly forceful or destructive in his means, but considering him a pushover was always the biggest mistake and disservice one could ever do to him. maybe in a kinder timeline, maki would've thought him to be something like an older brother figure. (it's hard to forget about the way his long blue locks─tainted with his own blood─had fanned and splayed out from under his body as he bled a river. he had fought until he collapsed, but resistance had always been futile. his death was not in vain though, it could never be, not with his sacrifice; had he known that he was able to buy just a little more time for all of them? kind, patient, endlessly selfless mio had never been fit for how cruel their world truly was, but he tried to adjust anyways. it worked until it didn't.)

moira, who went mad from the whispers of the ghosts but still tried to protect everyone in her own way. broken to pieces and put back together like a disjointed doll by the tower, she had begged for maki to be the one to release her with the remnants of her unsullied mind. (it was the first time maki's blade had sliced into someone who she considered to be her companion, but death truly had been the kinder option for her. she had done her best and bestowed maki with one last gift, a trinket that she had stolen from the tower before her spirit had been fully shattered. it was an ornamental pocket watch that moira had insisted was the key to ending the cycle of pain and bloodshed. not that it was clear whether or not those words were the truth, because that pocket watch was what protected moira from maki's initial blow. broken and useless, maki could only discard it and properly free moira from her pain. her hair had always been a lovely crimson, but even in death she was hauntingly beautiful when covered in blood.)

grief is something that maki had the time to learn and feel. it's on those empty, colourless days that maki thinks she hates misha with every core of her being, but she knows better than anyone else that it's misguided anger and that the one truly at fault is just solely the tower. for all intents and purposes, misha had always been a puppet playing right into their hands until it was too late.

still, she grieves because what was once five whittled down to two, and even then misha is still suffering. maki is too, but she already consigned herself to the fate of protecting the only thing left in her reach because she was never able to protect anything else before.

when she cries, she does so alone because she's so, so tired of being locked in an eternal stalemate. by the next day, she doesn't allow for any trace of her tears to be found and instead throws herself once again into attempting to change the future and break the loop. misha continues to sleep, lost in the fog of their mind, and it's all maki can do to search desperately.

[traumereii]

you find him tucked away into the corner of his backyard, dappled by the sunlight that filters through by the surrounding grove of bamboo. the notes from his guqin had led you to him, carried on by the wind, and now that you were in the vicinity, it hits you just how mournful the sound is. beautiful, yes, but you've heard his playing enough to discern his mannerisms and feelings.

he is the very image of calm and quiet. yet, it is with your battle-seasoned eyes that you spy the way his fingers twitch, tremble, whenever they lift from the strings. for all that he likes to pretend, you think you like this version of him better, where he delicately unwraps his emotions and lays them bare to nature rather than keeping it tightly concealed. you thought you knew him once, a long time ago when you were both little more than children; since the fever, he has almost all but changed and you've had the past years to get to know this newer side of him. if you had likened him to a venomous snake in the past, then the current him is something of a crane, gentle and elegant.

you're happy to continue watching from your place, far enough from him to quietly leave if the situation calls for it. yet, you know that he's already been expecting you by the way his music trails off quietly. when he lifts his head and smiles wanly at you, you find yourself at a lost for words. you school your features into a scowl because it's what your familiar with, and it's him that breaks the silence first.

"shidi. what brings you here?" he asks gently, but judging by the look in his eyes, you figure that he already knows. at your lack of response, he merely sighs and goes through the motion of standing up, setting aside his guqin and straightening his robes. "really, there's no need for you to concern yourself with this one. surely shidi has better things to do?"

he always tries to coax you into leaving his peak, but you've never been one to be talked into doing something you don't want to do. he knows this too, so he breathes out a small sigh and makes his way over to your side. "well, since you're here, would you care for some tea? ming fan has recently procured some quality blends that i haven't yet had the chance to try yet. perhaps you might find these more to your taste than, ah, what we had last time."

you're pleased with the way he quickly drops formalities around you, but as he unfurls his fan to cover his face, you can't help but feel that he's still not done hiding. either way, you make a small sound of assent because you enjoy his company more than anything else, not that he seems to think of you as some sort of tea connoisseur. you snort at the thought because it's ridiculous to imagine yourself fussing over something as trivial as tea leaves when you'd much rather lay waste to the monsters and demons of the land, but you let your shixiong indulge in his fun. he casts you a slightly aggrieved look but takes you by the arm anyways, gently tugging you towards his residence.

"look, i'm sorry about last time, really! i didn't think you were the type to be averse to bitter tastes, not when you've also avoided the sweeter blends," he cajoles, and you swallow back the lump in your throat by how easily he seems to throw all sense of propriety away. you extricate your arm from his grasp, rolling your eyes a little at the unrefined whine he makes when he doesn't get his way.

"shameless," you snap back, more at his actions and without any real heat, yet he recoils back and gasps dramatically as though the very word had pierced him. the mirth in his eyes says otherwise though, and you fight the urge to roll your eyes even harder.

"how cruel, shidi! come, come, let's have the tea so that you can be on your merry way. i appreciate the thought, but i'm fine, really. i've just been meditating and... thinking." his lower lip wobbles slightly at that, and your eyes widen a little, startled by the turn of events. "yes, this master has been thinking about how to properly face the outside world again. even if i had," he breaks off suddenly, fists clenching, before resuming, "lost a disciple, public opinion isn't swayed so quickly. they'll still think i'm responsible for all that death."

it's a preposterous notion, but it's the reality of the world that the man next to you is living in.

"is it not enough that you have me to protect you?" you say brusquely but not unkindly. stunned by the declaration, the man nearly loses his hold on his fan and fumbles with it for a few moments before raising it back over his face, looking off to the side instead. you're not quite done with your verbal assault just yet. "i promise you, as long as i'm here, i will not let harm befall you."

he laughs a little wetly at that, but his words are amused and not at all like the mournful melody he was playing earlier. "well. i'll be in your care then, shidi." with a flick of his robes, he sweeps ahead, mumbling to himself about what type of tea he should serve today. you let him go because he's always had a thin face and struggled with emotions, both expressing and receiving them.

(you couldn't have known how much of fool he is─or maybe it was something you had always known but tried to ignore─when he willingly trades his life for the life of his wayward disciple. he self destructs in front of you, and there's nothing you can do to repair the irreversible damage to his meridians, even though you've spent years by his side, painstakingly clearing out each blockage and offering any means of comfort.

you tell yourself that it's not your fault that he died, but you still fight unfailingly to bring him back home, even if it always results in your loss. people make a mockery of your title, but you can't bring yourself to care.

you think you understand how your shixiong felt when he grieved for the same disciple that brought about his death.)

still, you follow him in because he needs you in the moment and you'd do anything in your power to provide.

[traumereii]

to their despair, being god was a terribly boring and terribly lonely role. the honour had been grand and misha had thrown themself into their new work in hopes of reaching that pinnacle of perfection that they weren't ever able to attain in their mortal years, but they soon came to realize that their standing amongst humans was nearly nonexistent. they filled the seat of a god abandoned, a figurehead for a god that serves no purpose, and it didn't take long for their heart to waver once more.

so what if humanity didn't need a waste of space like misha? it wasn't ever in their nature to take such an insult lying down, and even if misha never had much power to begin with, their vindication served strong enough to dispel all of their prior blessings to the people. perhaps it was something like a silly temper tantrum to most other gods, but for humans, ants struggling to stay afloat in a sea that threatened to engulf them whole, their ability to communicate dictated their lives. even the most silver-tongued had found themselves struggling with words that simply wouldn't come off the tip of their tongue, and misha could only watch on in a sort of detached interest that only a god could ever have.

their throat burned hot and in protest at their actions, seemingly trying to remind misha of what they had promised when they accepted the mantle, but they were no stranger to pain. they have experienced more extremes in their frantic chase for the perfect beauty in their art, and last of all was the searing pain and emptiness at having their vocal chords destroyed beyond repair. it was the last real hardship they had experienced, and everything else since then was like a fantasy of whimsy, where they simply couldn't bring themself to care about the subsequent consequences their actions had on the mortals.

and yet, in that small part of their heart that remained fiercely human and deeply in tune with language, misha knew that their actions were nothing short of destructive. perhaps they pitied the foolish sheep who only just realized that they shouldn't bite at the hand that cared for and fed them, and even if they had become well acquainted with displeasure through their time as a god, they weren't one for long-term grudges and spite. for the humans who had become so cocky to believe themselves independent from the gods, this was their wake up call that even a god who couldn't facilitate war was not to be trifled with. it was always better to just avoid them, lest their wrath was incurred.

it went without saying that only the ones who sought to make deals with gods were also the most blind, insistent on their one path. in that sense, misha was truly one such blind fool, and they could only laugh wryly about it from their flimsy pedestal built from nothing and a singular promise.

[traumereii]

it's another one of those days when you turn to your side, expecting to see a person with a lopsided grin and an equally lopsided ponytail staring back at you, but then you realize that he's gone and hasn't been by your side for several months.

you don't know how long you stand in place, transfixed and utterly lost against the reality of your world, but some time passes before someone finds you. it's not him, of course, but familiar, cool hands take your fingers into their own and you don't have the energy to protest or fight back like how you might do normally. the action does jolt a little life back into you however, and you manage to glare down slightly at the perpetrator.

"seriously, what do you want? isn't practice starting soon?" you scold, but you make no move to step away from the proximity. the black haired boy smiles back faintly at you, and even without saying anything you feel as though you've fallen into his trap.

"i wanted to sleep, so i came looking for my pillow," he intoned softly, and even though you make a whole show of scowling and berating him about his unscrupulousness, you still feel a flicker of warmth inside. yes, even if he pretends to slack, you know that it's done for you; it's frustrating how perceptive he is and how you can never hide anything from his watchful eyes, but he never once meant ill will to you or the rest of the unit.

he lets go of your hands to open his arms out as though he's asking for a hug, and you don't let yourself dwell too much in your thoughts, instead simply choosing to take those few steps forward and envelope yourself in him. his arms find their way around you easily, and it's not quite the same as what you're used to─as if predicting your thoughts, he squeezes a little tighter, and you find yourself able to breathe a little more.

"... we're going to be late," you find yourself saying regardless of how you actually feel, but the only response you get is a weight on your shoulders and then all of a sudden you're stumbling backwards, trying to support the two of you upright. "wha─hey! don't just fall asleep here!"

"shut up... i already told the others that we should take a break, and they agreed."

"but─"

"i know you want everything to be perfect for his return, but we can't reach that if we don't properly rest too." he fixes you with a stern look that you didn't even know he was capable of making until now. he takes your arm and drags you over to one of the many empty desks in the classroom, sitting the both of you down. "go to sleep."

"ugh, all of you are so annoying," you mumble back as a retort, but it's halfhearted at best when you make no attempt to resist.

[traumereii]

maki stirs first, blinking her eyes groggily and turning away from the sunlight streaming through the curtains. the person in her arms continues to breathe lightly in slumber, burying their face further into the crook of maki's neck and tightening their hold around her.

when maki stares down at misha, she's filled with a sense of awe and wonder at the prone figure. when she first met misha, they were closed off and cautious of letting anyone close to them. in a sense, it's a little like taming a wild cat, but there's nothing but love in maki's heart as she reaches forward to brush the hair out of their face.

seeing them being able to sleep peacefully is something that she'd like to see forever, maki thinks, allowing a small smile to settle across her features. misha shifts at the motion, ever the light sleeper, and it doesn't take long before their eyes open too, blinking blearily up at maki. "morning," they mumble softly, chasing after her hand in order to lace their fingers together.

"morning to you too," maki whispers back softly, almost afraid of shattering the moment of peace and quietude. there exists a comforting lull, and misha takes that opportunity to raise their conjoined hands and press a light kiss to the back of maki's hand. "someone's feeling cuddly," she comments as misha merely hums.

"yeah, but it's not like you're going to deny this to me, right?"

"how can i ever say no to you?"

[traumereii]

it's not your character to hurt people out of malice, but sometimes it happens anyways and people break regardless of your intentions. like fine spiderweb cracks blooming on pale porcelain, like joints being popped out of their sockets, like eyeballs gouged out and nails dug so deeply into flesh that it draws blood, people live until they break, gasping as their minds lead them all to the same, inevitable conclusion that there is no real meaning in the world.

you've long since known that people were at your mercy, but because you were a loving, benevolent god, it had always been in your best interests to provide for them, no matter what it was that they asked for. if the people asked for the stars, then you would gladly stand on your tiptoes and pluck every flaming ball of gas from the skies until they were satisfied, even as your fingertips burnt and blistered. if they asked for more wealth, more prosperity, then you'd find a way to provide; you always did, after all.

if they asked for immortality, then you'd all-too-willingly whittle away your own life for them. just for them. for the insects who don't know even the barest sense of gratitude, you'd do all this and more.

still, it's tiring, and it comes to a point when your dolls begin to break quicker than you can ever hope to fix them. your subjects become a patchwork of scars, and though this delicately held delusion of a god and its followers threatened to tip at the precipice, you can't find it in you to fault them even as they hurl obscenities, curses, everything designed and intended to hurt you and shut you away.

but you still love them, because that's all you've ever known to do. you love them, because if you do not love them, then who will? if you do not love them, then what will become of your own existence?

[traumereii]

"he promised to come back."

the words reach deaf ears, but the harder he squeezed the ipod in his hands like a lifeline, he could almost delude himself into imagining a familiar, warm weight of someone leaning against his side. his eyes burned from trying to hold back his tears, but it didn't do anything to distract him from the emptiness in his chest and the knowledge that he was the one who broke─

no, he tells himself firmly, almost like a mantra. the king wasn't gone or anything, he just... needed some time alone after ravaging through the school until only the strong remained. he was always too kind for his own good, going up to strangers and telling them that he loved them, but even that was part of his charm; when the light in his eyes faded with each battle, with each judgment, there wasn't ever any doubt that he didn't have everyone's best interests at heart.

(it manifested in the way that music spilled from his pen, his blood like water bursting forth from the rock that moses struck with his staff; he gave away his treasures for pennies, for simple promises of love only to be used and stabbed in the back.

what's worse was that even his own knights had used him to their own advantage, and he turned a blind eye to it all until he self-destructed.)

the ipod felt too cold and slippery in his too-clammy hands, and the boy took a shuddering breath and curled in on himself. perhaps he had been the straw that finally broke the camel's back, but no matter how much he regretted his actions now, it couldn't change anything. the cold moonlight felt harsher than normal, leaving him to feel as though there was nothing he could properly hide away. under that light, he pledged an oath to his heart and the ghost of someone who barely existed.

"until you return, i'll protect what we created. i'll shield the rest of them from the horrors that you had to experience by yourself.

"what is the price of coming back? no matter what it is, i'll pay it all."

[traumereii]

"it's silly that you're still up at this hour."

you lift your sunken eyes to stare at the intruder, pallid face and haggard appearance twisting awfully into some sort of grimace.

"who let you in?"

the intruder shrugs nonchalantly. "no one. i let myself in with the key you keep under the doormat. so, are you going to tell me what's up or will i have to force the answer out of you again?"

you mutter out a quiet curse under your breath, and the intruder conveniently ignores your less-than-polite comment. it's 2:52 am, almost 3:00, and you didn't particularly feel like entertaining anyone while you were at the cusp of some kind of stress-induced breakdown, perhaps. "nothing's wrong. i'm just tired and things are messed up. leave me alone for once, will you?"

"yeah, like that doesn't sound concerning at all," they comment breezily before making themselves at home in your room, much to your annoyance and chagrin. "spill."

"ugh, you're so annoying," you hiss, but you do take a moment to deliberate whether or not you really wanted to tell them. finicky and flighty as they are, they are still someone important to you, so to speak. they've proven to be impossible to drive away time and time again, and you've since grown tired of trying. "it's just... i'm worried."

"about?"

"everything. about how other people see me. about how other people feel about me. about how much more use i can be of them before i get inevitably discarded. just the usual things, you know?" a morose laugh spills from your lips, and though a sardonic smile slips onto your face, you can't quite disguise the way your shoulders begin to shake from the crushing reality of your own words. "i'm so insignificant but there's too many things i care about to be able to peacefully disappear into dust. so i end up needing other people to ground me, yeah? but then they get tired of me, or they're just too busy to entertain someone like me... it's irrational thinking but each time, i think that it would be better if such interactions hadn't been facilitated at all."

the intruder hums. "but you know that's not true."

you nod, albeit slowly. "yeah. there's a lot of people i love, i think, and i want to be able to tell them as such, but i'm always afraid that the moment i do, they'll just up and disappear. if that's going to happen at all, i'd rather not close that distance. if i'm going to be left behind, i'd rather do it first."

"which is what you did two years ago."

"which is what i did two years ago," you agree, rubbing your hands and lacing your fingers together. "but now, it's almost like nothing changed, in a way. i don't know. is this even making sense? i just feel this crippling reminder that there's very little in the world that matter to me and so i cling and cling onto anything that gives me the barest hint of joy until i completely wring out everything i ever loved from it. it's tiring, but i can't physically bring myself to think of anything else. just focus on the unimportant things, i say, because everything else will be easier to deal with. but will it really be?"

"only you know the answer to that," the intruder comments, lifting their hand to eye level to inspect their nails.

"you're not even paying attention to me."

"i am. i'm listening. i always do, don't i?"

you bite down on your lower lip in lieu of a proper answer to their statement. "please leave," you say, your tone hitching at the end. you ignore how the last notes carry an almost frantic feeling to them, like you would get down on your knees and plead for them to finally do what you say. "i don't think i feel very safe with you around."

the intruder smiles at you, and you can't bear to look into their face, no matter how kind and soft their expression is. "i'm sorry you feel that way about me, but you do realize that i'm here because of you, right? as long as you exist, i'm tethered to your existence."

"still," you say, and that's the only thing that you can bring yourself to force out of your mouth.

their features soften even more, almost impossibly so, before they stand up and walk towards you. you stiffen, spine snapping ram-rod straight, as they gently encircle you in their arms. in contrast to your burning skin, theirs have always felt cooler, icier. "i know. just bear with it a little more, yeah? you'll be fine, i promise. i'm always here for you whenever you need me."

"but i don't. i don't want you to be here. i wish you were gone. i want you to stay gone," you breathe, and they chuckle in response. you blink, and when you open your eyes again, all that remains of their presence is the chilling sensation they left on your skin.

the screen on your phone denotes that it is 3:18 am. though your shoulders are still shaking, you try to take deeper breaths to calm yourself. you are truly alone now, in the dead of the night, and you feel as though you are about to suffocate.

3:21.

3:22.

3:23.

your shoulders shake one more time, and with it, you finally let a quiet sob slip past your lips.

[traumereii]

the first thing you notice is that her hair's wet. no, everything about her is drenched to the bone; her dark hair hangs like a curtain over her face, and as she lurches forward to grip at your arms with her too-cold hands, the clothes cling to her too-thin frame. she's dripping water all over your nice hardwood floors, and normally you'd complain a little and bustle off to find a towel or something, but she's shivering and you can't find it in yourself to leave, even temporarily.

"hey," you try, almost tentatively. "what's wrong? your room's on the first floor, shouldn't you have gone there first?" the words are awkward on your tongue, and you fumble and trip and stumble to the end. for you who has only ever known how to wield words as sharp as swords as a weapon and for protection, toning it down to something softer and gentler is completely foreign. you try not to think about how even like this, you're not comfortable with letting down your walls and baring yourself to the girl who clearly needs you to be present, all because of your own insecurities and selfish desires. still, you try, because that's all you've ever known to do, because you're not a genius and had to fight for every single thing you could call your own.

"... wasn't thinking, sorry," the other girl finally mumbles back, and after a beat, she pulls back into herself. her eyes are hooded and she makes the motion to leave, but something overtakes you and you grab her wrist, stopping her in place. her blood-red eyes zero in on yours, and you swallow thickly; you've never liked how vulnerable her gaze always made you feel. "secchan? let go, i need to go back to my room. it's late, isn't it? i'll bother your sleep if i stay any longer, and even if your other roommates aren't in right now, they'll be back before long."

a lump lodges itself in your throat, and you know that you've messed up by her reaction. your grip only tightens around her wrist, perhaps uncomfortably so if the withering glare she shoots you is anything to go off on, but you're desperate and you─you can't afford to lose her, too. "wait, don't go, i'm not chasing you off or anything, don't make these kinds of decisions by yourself if you've already come by. at least dry your hair or something, you're going to catch a cold. well, they say that idiots can't catch colds, but i'd rather not test that theory right now." it's so easy for you to slip into your mother-henning without intending to, and you grab the girl by the shoulders to haul her into the room. you use your foot to nudge the door closed so that heat from the room doesn't escape, and even though she doesn't say anything in response, you see the minuscule way her shoulders ease up by your actions.

you sit her down at the foot of your bed, and you turn to grab a clean towel from your closet. she watches you wordlessly, and when you hand her the towel, she stares owlishly at you. sighing, you sit down next to her to start mussing with her hair. "couldn't you have at least tried to be a little more cooperative? like, i don't know, change out of your wet clothes. or dry your own hair while i go see if i have anything that'll fit you."

that draws out a short laugh from her, and she leans closer into your space, giving you more access to her hair. you carry on with your motions obligingly, despite your complaints earlier, and she picks up on it. "says the one who's still contentedly drying my hair right now. it's okay to be truthful about your wants sometimes, secchan, even if you are cuter when you try to pretend otherwise."

"how did this end up about me?" you grumble, but there's no bite to your tone. you tug on her hair a little harder as payback, and she whines and tries to extricate her hair from your hands. "geez, stop moving around like that. you're making this harder for the both of us."

"but i still don't see you complaining," she says, all sing-songy-like, almost as though she hadn't abruptly appeared in front of your room looking like she had run through a hurricane.

you don't bother to dignify that with a response, instead choosing to carry on, even if the tips of your ears were beginning to redden. it's true that you're a nag, but you still had your reasons for tending to her like this; casual displays of domesticity from you were reserved for special occasions, usually when you aren't thinking straight, but there was something strangely therapeutic about quietly taking the other girl's hair and patting it dry with the towel. her hair falls like the midnight, and you wonder if there would ever come a day where you'd hang stars in those dark, silken strands.

neither of you mention the reverent way you handle her hair and the rest of her, treating the girl so gently like you're afraid she'd break if you applied just a little more pressure. ironic, because you're a knight, and you honed yourself to be someone else's sword, not to tiptoe around fragile feelings and even fragiler words. she's just as much of a knight as you are, but whereas you would raze down every enemy standing in your path to achieve victory, she hangs in the back, whispering strategies and plans in order to minimize the casualties of war.

she's smart. she's almost too smart, because she only needs to catch your eyes to know what you're thinking. "stop that," she says, and she doesn't need to clarify for you to understand what she's talking about. still, she continues on. "none of what happened in the past was ever your fault alone, okay? just... keep doing what you did before. please?"

it's not a plea because she would never plea, but it sounds plaintive all the same and you'd be damned if you made her any more upset than she already was. you nod your assent instead because you're afraid that you're only going to ruin this moment of peace by giving life to your voice, your painfully sharp words.

for another beat, no words were exchanged between the two of you. then: "can i kiss you?"

you startle at that, staring at her with blown-wide eyes and almost dropping the towel. the girl looks uncharacteristically serious, red eyes shining in the dimly lit room, bangs still dripping with water. you had half the mind to deny her, to say that you still didn't feel ready, but the words die in your throat when you meet her eyes with your own icy blue.

"sure," you whisper instead, and she wastes no time in flinging her arms around your neck, pulling you closer to her and capturing your lips. the cold wetness of her clothes seeps into your body, and you shiver involuntarily. yet, as cold as the other girl was, the intimate proximity was also warming you up inside out.

"i missed you," she murmurs against your lips, so quietly that you would've missed it had you not been listening carefully for any sound from her, "had to make sure that you were real and you were actually here. got caught in a downpour. had some nasty thoughts. but i'm here now and secchan's here so it's all good."

"stupid," you say back, and she laughs. "why didn't you just say anything, huh? that's so annoying."

"yeah, yeah, whatever you say. i'm glad you're here."

"... me too."