A MONSTER.

             Despite being born from love, for him, the topic was a tedious one that rarely lasted, and a part of him had resented it in a way. Thus for a moment, a look of irritation paints his features, though it soon softens, and instead his expression is vacant. “Hoh…? What’s this? You still look to a creature who thrives off of hate above all else for answers concerning matters of the heart…? To know if you’re wrong for desiring love and to be loved?” Had this been any other situation, he would no doubt laugh and exit the area without delay, yet because of what—who she was, his facial expression remains cold and blank.  

             “… But then, this an action you do quite often, isn’t it? You seek the affection and approval of others… for someone to accept you and yet you don’t accept yourself.”

Distant as Avenger may be, he seems to have some of the answers she seeks. She matches his blank stare with one of her own, the glassy surface of her eyes reflecting his visage through the curtain of her tousled hair. Is it truly impossible to love without loving oneself? She has loved before, and doubtlessly she will love again -- but she’s doubtful that any of her affections will be returned. Perhaps that is the missing piece.

   “ OH!” Miki gasped, surprised by the freshly-picked flower, taking it from the stranger and responding with a soft smile. “Thank you.”

She nods, dropping her hand back down to her side.

   “ YOU know… flowers aren’t half bad.”

             Her expression seemed to agree with his notion, so with that he continues without hesitation. “That’s right. Perfect love doesn’t exist. Dreaming of nothing else but is senseless and short sighted.” His response is straightforward, mildly harsh to some perhaps. For a moment, he wonders why Ritsuka hadn’t said as much to her yet. “… True love on the other hand… no…” That thought is dropped just as quickly as it had come to mind.

             “In any case, if you steadily value your self worth, then and only then should you pursue it.” This will be the only advice on the matter he’d ever offer. “So then, I ask… do you hold yourself in high regard, Berserker?”

She can agree with that much: Perfect love is nothing more than a myth. For a time, she had thought a fairy-tale romance was possible, but now... She blinks her large eyes, bringing herself back to the present.

“That’s a good thing,” Rebecca began, moving to her side, keeping her arm around the other’s shoulders, “everyone is the only one of them, even identical twins are individual.”

She shakes her head with a grunt. It’s difficult for her to explain; forcing her mouth to abide by her thoughts is exhausting.

“What makes you think that you’re alone?”

             “Is he now…” Despite not being a stranger to romance, the concept of Valentine’s Day still seemed so pointless to him. “Love has its share of cruelties at times… even striking when everything feels perfect… knowing this, do you still wish to pursue it?” Nothing wrong with being honest.

She knows that all too well. Love is nothing but pain -- the pain of wanting, and the pain of losing. In her short time, that longing, and that pain, is all she’s known.

Throws her arms around her and hugs her from behind.

“You’re not alone!”

“Uu--”

             “Upset, are you? … Does he no longer count?” He being her precious master, of course.

“I bet they do, after all, how would they communicate. Some of them look very alike, so they have to be able to tell each other a part, right?” There was a logic to her words, somewhere, she was sure. 

“What’s you’re name?”

She has no name -- merely a series of different titles that people use for her. As she watches the fog billowing across the lake, she wonders which one to offer in this scenario. What would the fish call her?

“They are, aren’t they~”

 “Do you think they have names?”

Perhaps they do. Most things are given names -- but they have to be loved by someone first. She wouldn’t know what that’s like.

He follows suit, crouching to watch the fish skim the surface in -meeting, like a soft hello. Though her smile’s small and soft, it shines. “Hm! Okay, okay. No more fishing, promise. I can’t in good nature hurt someone’s friends, even if I am hungry! But,” and he wiggles his sleeves, a squeak echoing from within. “How do you feel about mice?”

And, as if summoned, a mouse scurries into his open palm.

“Aa...!” A mouse! It’s so tiny and cute! Big ears, curly whiskers, and a twitchy little nose! Oh, she wants to pet it...

No more murder gaze! Great. Excellent. Super. This doesn’t fix his food problem, but it helps by not being murdered again. 

But never mind that for now.

“The fish are your friends? Right?”

She crouches beside the water and removes one of her gloves, skimming her fingertips across the surface. The barest hint of a smile flashes across her face as one of the fish rises to her touch.

A pause, then a smile.

“You really like the fish, huh?”

She nods again, gazing through her bangs at the rippling water.

“Okay.” It’s time to make like a tree and…. remain completely still until she stops giving him that look. The look that looks like murder. The murderous look.

“...” She calms down in a single breath, motes of electricity fizzling into nothingness.