obstinate, headstrong girl!

                                despite his best efforts, the tears will not stop. he knows he has no right to cry, not when he stands here before her, more or less whole while she has been dead for so long. placing his hand over his mouth is all he can do to stop the screams from tearing out of his throat ; screams of guilt, pain, fear, sorrow. ventus doesn’t feel like he deserves to stand here with everyone he loves so dearly ; does not feel like he has earned the right to exist when he has been the root cause for many of the problems they are facing today.

                                though he may not have been in control at the time, his hands were still the ones who had struck strelitzia down. had ventus been more careful, more aware, strelitzia would be here instead of him. maybe the worlds wouldn’t have fallen into darkness the way they had. if it hadn’t been for him, xehanort never would have hurt his friends, wouldn’t have tried to form the x-blade. terra wouldn’t have lost himself and aqua wouldn’t have gotten trapped in the realm of darkness for over a decade.

                                his knees give out from beneath him, memories rushing back. memories of his time with aqua and terra, with master eraqus ; memories of his days in daybreak town. of the pain that followed once he was entered the picture. he was stupid. stupid, stupid, stupid — he just ruined everything.

                                ventus is vaguely aware of terra crouching in front of him, trying to get him to breathe, but he can’t seem to do it. he can barely see through the tears and his throat is tight – he feels like he might pass out… until she says his name. ’ ven … ’ and his gaze flickers to hers, though all he can make out is her form. she’s happy to see him? even when the last thing she might have seen was him making the final blow? she forgave him? no, that —- that couldn’t be right.

                                "–stop—“ he croaks, trembling hand lowering from his mouth. hands move to the floor of the balcony and he lowers his head, shoulders shaking as he fights the urge to stop the tears. he has no right, he reminds himself. ”—please, don’t — i don’t —“ why wasn’t she angry? it would have been so much easier if she were. ”–all my fault — they looked — everywhere for you –i— i’m so sorry —!“ 

               they looked for her?  the information seems to take her by surprise, eyelashes fluttering in confusion as she looks at the collapsed boy before her.  her family and friends - they’d looked for her and she hadn’t been there.  teal eyes jerk away from the figure before her, staring wordlessly over the balcony, desperately trying to regain her composure.  lauriam... he must’ve been so worried, and with his dedication he must have looked for her relentlessly.  but she wasn’t there.  there was nothing to find.  a fruitless search, just as pointless as her attempt to reach out and make new friends. 

❝ i’m sorry, uhm... ❞  the strong boy with brown hair - terra, right?  there’s something familiar about him, like an echo of a memory that lingers on the edge of forgotten.  he reminds her of the wielder that she’d watched in the fountain square.  the same steady compassion and fearless dedication to his friends.  she steps forward, only to be shot a look of what almost seems like warning from the blue haired girl.  brave, streli, you have to be brave.  

if she doesn’t speak now, the chance may never come. 

❝ i’d like to speak with ventus alone, if that’s alright. ❞  when the words finally come, she immediately regrets them.  not a good idea, given the state he’s in.  but the red haired girl steps forward regardless, kneeling down in front of her fellow wielder and reaching to place her hands over his.  lonely, right?  they’d both been lonely.  it could have just as easily been her that had fallen victim to the darkness as him.  a roll of the dice.  that’s the only thing that had any say over their fates.  

He knows she’s caught off guard at his words.

Most mistook him for being so disinterested, he glossed over small details - especially when it was about another person, let alone a fellow pillar - but it was far from the truth. When it came to people he cared about, to any capacity, he had the maddening habit of memorizing small useless details, things he would hold onto and fight to keep tooth and nail.

For Shinobu, it wasn’t all that hard for him not to notice just how pale she’d grown over the years, how what started off as a faint jitter, grew to full tremors when she was focused on something else. It was worrying - not normal, and something that held tight to his attention and concern like a hook to a fish. But he wasn’t normally known to meddle in others affairs.

But for this, he couldn’t just turn a blind eye. It slips free before he knows better, and with a huff, glacier-like pools shift to meet deep wisteria-violets, studying Kochou’s eyes with a steely focus. In a way, he expects the teasing tone she adopts, near instantly, but he doesn’t miss how she hides her hands beneath the safe covers of her haori’s sleeves.

He’s been around her long enough he can hear the irritation, the defensive undertone of it, in her sing-song tone. But like always, it seems to draw the worst of him out without fail, no matter how hard he tries to ignore her.

Shooting her a look, unimpressed as he crosses his arms over his chest, he can’t help the soft scoff of disbelief that leaves him.

“Of course I am.” He admits bluntly. He wasn’t going to skirt around it. Though they struggled to get along every so often and she seemed intent on making him the butt of her teasing jokes, there was a care laced through their interactions over the years. One it’d taken him a while to see and spot, but now that he had, it was hard to truly take any real offense to her jibes.

Pale hands reach over, collecting his from where they’d been tucked away in the crooks of his arms. Peering curiously down at the limbs curled around his with a delicate touch, he risks a glance upwards when she smoothly slots their fingers. His posture eases faintly, and at the light squeeze she offers, he answers it back with one of his own.

Before he can further comment or allow his mind to wander, she sways, and quickly once she free’s one of his to brace it along the center of his chest, he moves to steady her with a hand along her shoulder. At the touch, that tiny stab of worry grows to a large wave, something he can’t ignore now that he feels the trembling up close, feel how persistant it is. It’s not normal. She’s not okay - no matter how much she’s tried to deflect and put on a brave front.

Flopped against his chest, head along his shoulder, it’s so unlike Shinobu to be so… close, so touchy. No sharp witted comment meant to chase him away, no sarcasm to act as a defense, only weakly muttered excuses past her lips. His hand moves gently along her shoulder, rubbing in a soothing motion as he sighs. “Clearly.”

Clearly not.

“Guess I’ll need to get used to being bald then.” It’s pathetic, humor is not something he’d known for, but, in light of her condition, it’s… all he can offer. Frown tugging at his lips, he shakes his head, giving her shoulder and hand a much more firm squeeze. Like an unspoken promise of sorts. “But fine. I won’t.” He wasn’t the kind to indulge in gossip, and though he didn’t exactly fear her threat, he isn’t so deplorable that he’d go around spreading news that she was weakened and left in such a state.

“But maybe you should. You don’t look well, Shinobu. You need rest.”

.

               of course i am.  the confirmation almost hurts, her brow furrowing as she presses her face firmly against his neck, relishing the coolness of his skin against her own.  he shouldn’t be.  not with the way she’s been known to treat him.  so much effort spent on trying to keep him at arms length and it’s all been a waste.  he’s here, worried about her well being and she is the one who caused that anxiety.  that pain.  if he knew what she was doing, would he still be worried?  or would a different kind of sting replace the persistent ache of concern?  

❝ it would be an improvement, ❞  she manages a weak laugh, but puts no other effort towards fighting the touch to her shoulder.  truthfully, it feels nice to be close to someone.  she can’t remember the last time she’d allowed herself to be held the way he’s holding her or comforted in such a fashion.  and there’s a small, very quiet part of her that’s longed to be so close.  to breathe in his scent and listen to the steady rise and fall of his breathing,  ❝ tomioka... ❞

but that small part of her wars against the rest, a violent and ferocious battle that only worsens the trembling of her arms as she reaches to grasp his haori.  her touch is gentle despite the weariness plaguing her limbs.  the fabric is important to him, and she treats it with the utmost reverence even now.  she understands.  perhaps better than anyone else.  her own haori is just as precious.  and the reason she’s killing herself. 

if they could both shed this crushing weight, would the distance between them become easier to bridge?  she breaths in deeply, wheezing as her body struggles to take in the air.  too much wisteria.  the next dose will be more appropriate.  she cannot die here.  not when there’s still so much work to be done.  not while the monster that killed her sister still lives.  not when...

the sound of her name halts her train of thought.  she pulls back slowly, violet eyes finding his.  a calm ocean usually so devoid of emotion, but she can see the fear clinging to the edges.  he’s scared.  he’s scared for her.  the burning skin of her temple meets his, lips dangerously close.  an accident, but the small part of her - the one that’s growing larger with every second - would not have been angry had they found each other.  rest.  she should rest.  but not alone.

not alone?  she’s never known herself to be so clingy.  even with her family she was always rough and unruly.  it’s exhausting.  she’s so tired of being alone.  so sick of pushing everyone away.  that’s the fever talking.  if he gets too close, he’ll certainly be taken from her.

if he isn’t taken from her, it won’t be long until she’s taken from him.  love isn’t enough to keep her from executing her plans. 

love? 

her cheeks burn brighter and her grip upon his haori tightens.  she doesn’t have time for that kind of feeling, for that kind of attachment.  she doesn’t have the energy.  she doesn’t have the heart.  the ache of loss is horrifically familiar.  how could she ever justify putting him through that?  it’s already difficult enough to reason out putting kanao through it.  but someone completely unrelated?  someone who has no stake in her fight for vengeance?  

he’s warm and he’s steady.  logic and reason are difficult things when her mind feels like it’s on fire and her eyes burn every time she closes them.  her limbs ache, too weak to support her without his help.  perhaps she is too weak to support herself.  perhaps it’s okay to ask for help.  he is her partner, above everything else.  if she trusts him with her life on the field of battle, why shouldn’t this be any different?