𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘰𝘺 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧

Every time Soma drinks another's creatures blood, it's as if her heart splinters. Each new shard born from the schism borrows from whatever it is she's taken into this body —— from the kaiju, it's often violence, or new ways to endure violence, or new ways to experience terror. From humans, it's more complex, but not because the content is disparate. From humans, she often gains violence, or new ways to endure violence, or new ways to experience terror. But each new talent brings with it something harder to describe. The splintering is deeper. Each creates more surfaces to refract and reflect. Soma has known she's a shattered mirror for a long time —— the thought brings no pain.

Drinking from Rin the first time had been wonderful, because Soma loves Rin deeply, and because Soma is so often starving. It had also been nauseating and frightening, because Soma hates what is monstrous about herself, and she is never more monstrous than when she must take another's health just to sustain this body's own. That Rin hadn't been disgusted as Soma had quietly feared had been only a small comfort. The beast, sobbing in their lover's lap, as though Soma was the one harmed.

Rin says, "Soma," and Soma schisms further, even without the blood. Rin says, "Soma," like they're a creature —— a person, maybe —— with a name. Rin says, "Soma," like they are worth being trusted, not just used or its opposite. Rin says, "Soma," like ——

Drinking from Rin had been a strange splintering; each shattering shard had been so clear and bright, light refracting and reflecting. This body had copied several of Rin's habits —— the way they stand, pieces of their vocabulary, the way their hand brushes at their hair. It unsettled Rin, at first, Soma knows. It had reframed her constant swallowing of kaiju parts, if nothing else. But more than the borrowing was the seeing, the clarity, the understanding of the tenor of Rin's care. It became more impossible to think of Rin's care for Soma as being the kind that one might for a machine, when that care now lived inside Soma, too. It had also become impossible to ignore that Rin's care for Soma could not, quite, be love.

To love someone, you have to love all of them. Soma's the very best at love, and it's one of the few things beside their skill at killing and dying that she feels sure of about herself, so Soma feels very confident about this. Rin had cared for Soma, when Soma drank from them. They'd wanted good things for Soma. They'd wanted an end to Soma's pain. But they could not love Soma's strength, or her power, or her ability to die and return and therefore to endure anything.

It had been a very strange shattering, to have another's disgust at what Soma can do —— and, therefore, at what Soma is —— settle so neatly inside of them, right next to the sincere affection.

Rin says, "Go show them what you can do, alright? I want all of Tokyo singing your praise," and Soma splinters in Rin's hands, despite the lack of blood. A new understanding. A new realization. Rin has changed, since Soma drank from her last. Soma's heart splinters into countless tiny shards, and each one is so clear and so reflecting that for a moment it's almost blinding, arching colours filling her vision and her ribs. The world shimmers when refracting against the shattered mirror that is Soma. Rin shines as the light bounces from their skin.

She doesn't want Soma to die. But she knows what Soma can do. She trusts it, now. She can even love it, and she wants Tokyo to see and love it, too. Their first emotion is gratitude so deep it nearly wounds. Their second is hunger.

Soma feels something warm and greedy and delighted curving her lips —— the hand Rin is pressing to their mouth rises, gently takes the back of Rin's head, and pulls them closer to kiss, properly. Soma nips at their lip as they part —— not enough to break skin. They want to taste Rin's new trust in her blood. They want to taste Rin's new resolve. But that can wait. For now ——

"I will," Soma promises. She laughs, breathless and relieved and capable of anything at all, if Rin will only look at her like that. "And then I'll come back to you."

but like —— you're a six year old girl, and everyone sees you as being monstrous and horrible so they kill your mother in front of you. you go to a family that you think loves you but can't do it in a way you understand, and you have such a broken relationship with your appearance and existence broadly because the humans you were raised with thought you were scary and ugly and monstrous, and the reapers you interact with now often comment on how they can tell you're human in a way that tells you they disapprove of your appearance. your mind starts to warp. you're six and eight and ten and you think, maybe the problem is i don't look right? maybe that's why i never belong, why people hate me or think i'm strange or can't love me right?

you're a twelve year old girl and your big brother breaks nearly every bone in your body.

maybe the problem is i don't look right? and aika looks in the mirror as she heals, and she doesn't look right. she's covered with scars now. she was already a weird, ugly, monstrous little freak, and that already made her impossible to love. and that already got her mother killed —— because aika was not human enough —— and ostacized —— because aika is not reaper enough. and now she's even uglier. and if the problem is that aika can't be loved —— will experience violence! —— if she doesn't look right, then this new ugliness just means she's going to be more alone and more isolated and more hurt.

you're a little girl and the only way you can think of to be worth loving / to be safe is to be pretty. of course as she got older and realized how much attention she could get by being pretty, that would warp into thinking that the only way she can be lovable is to be fuckable. to be universally desired! someone not wanting to sleep with her, to aika, doesn't feel like the pain inherent in a romantic / sexual rejection. to aika, it feels like an assertion that she doesn't look right, that she can't be loved, that she isn't safe. that she's that helpless little girl again.

She's in no position to refuse Sakura's help, she knows. Some childish, stubborn part of her —— the same that had her disobeying her father and wandering into the greedy hands of cultists, no doubt —— resists that reality as best it can even so. It's that sliver of the woman that has her attempting to stand, only to fall to a graceless kneel when her wounded leg collapses under her. Useless, despite her best efforts.

"—— All right," she allows, scowling at her ungrateful the words sound. She tries again. "All right. Thank you. I...underestimated my prey, clearly." Sloppy work, and the monstrous man had even escaped. As wounded as she, and she's certain he won't manage a second fleeing once she finds him again, though for a girl so desperate to kill and die to erase a failure, every new one merely prolongs her purgatory. But that is not Sakura's concern —— or, at least, it shouldn't be.

What shocks Soma is less the words and more what prompted them.

In - love is a big, dramatic phrase that Soma's still learning the nuances of; it's different than just loving ( as if there could every be anything about love that's 'just' anything ), and usually different than the way people love families and friends. But the sentiment itself isn't new, exactly. Soma's had all sorts of praise leveled at what this body can do; that it can die and come back, that it's so strong, that it can fight a battle all alone that would usually cost countless. Soma knows she's useful, and that's part of what makes it so hard when Rin and Sagan and Narumi talk like the usefulness is bad. But other people, maybe - kinder people, maybe - crueler people, have praised this body in all sorts of ways. "I'm in love with everything you do," is new wording, but the idea is old and well - worn and has been communicated to Soma after losing a limb and fighting anyway, or dying and immediately rushing back to the field, or finishing a mission that should have killed real people. But Rin isn't saying it after watching Soma rip a Kaiju apart with her bare hands or devour it. Rin isn't saying it after watching Soma be a better tool / monster / machine than any human could possibly be.

Rin is saying it after watching Soma laugh.

Rin's words are impulsive, like she couldn't stop them, and Soma stops laughing immediately, mismatched eyes huge. Their mind blanks entirely, emptying, and they can't even remember what they were laughing about. They just stare at Rin, lips parted, not breathing.

It's not that no one has ever told this body that they appreciate how it can be used. But no one has ever told the almost - person that almost - fills this body that they love what she does because —— because Soma laughed? Rin watched this body laugh and just...said she loved them? That she loves everything they do?

Soma doesn't realize she's crying until Rin's expression morphs into something worried and her hands reach for this body's face. Soma doesn't realize they're shaking until this body's hands rise to take Rin's wrist and they can see them trembling. This body inhales hard, trying to settle, not ashamed to cry, just not wanting to worry Rin. Rin, who loves everything this body does, even the things that aren't dying or sacrificing.

Or, more impossible yet : Rin, who loves everything Soma does, and so therefore sees a 'Soma' clearly.

"Sorry!" Soma says, a watery chirp, trying to smile. They're being very kind, and she doesn't want to ruin it. "In love — I'm in love with you, too!" Not just this body; whatever speck of a being that is "Soma" loves Rin more than anything or anyone else in the entire world. That is good, and Soma and Rin have both known for a long time. But Soma is built to love nearly as much as she's built to die. She's just never considered a reality where she can be loved back like that.

( a thought —— just barely —— that she wants some of rin's blood. if she was lucky, it would let her understand how she can love something that's so frightening to her. )

Kujira is so interesting. Kujira is so strong and so pretty. Usually, being around someone so strong and pretty would make Aika want to rip her skull off her spine ( which her? ), but Aika doesn't. Aika loves Kujira, and it's not even hard. That's part of why she's so interesting. So easy to love, even by gross gross broken things like Aika.

I cannot afford to love. What an interesting thing to say.

It's not like there's any other reason for a girl to be alive, except to love and be loved. It's like saying I can't afford to breathe or get fucked.

( ki's voice, careful : ai - chan. you don't believe that.

and she's right, she is. on the good days she knows it's not fair to think or say. it's not a very good day. aika is not a very good girl, even though she breathes and gets fucked so much. )

Kujira is so interesting, and being a little liar, aren't they? Kujira and Aika are warped mirrors, except Kujira only thinks they don't —— don't what? Aika feels sleepy and staticky, and the thought gets lost for a moment. Her head tilts, long hair — fake, the Glamour — smoothing over her bony — fake, the Glamour — shoulders. Kujira is so pretty. It normally makes Aika jealous to be around beautiful girls, because they fit in the mold that makes you lovable. Aika has to starve herself to squeeze in, and it doesn't even work. But she isn't jealous of Kujira, at least not the kind of jealous that makes her want to kill others / herself.

( ki's voice : you're dissociating, ai. )

Aika nods to the voice in their skull, assenting — then realizes it might seem like she's agreeing with the voice outside their skull and shakes their head rapidly. Kujira is so lovey - dovey. Kujira loves and is so loved, including by their shared beau — another thing that would make Aika rip anyone else's guts out but that doesn't bother her at all with Kujira — and is so loving, including towards their shared beau. Oh! Maybe this is Kujira letting Aika down easy? Maybe Kujira means they cannot love Aika? That would make sense. There's no reason for anybody to like Aika.

( maybe aika can let kujira fuck her? tartaglia might be mad, but then maybe kujira can love her? use and love are so close, and kujira is so —— ki's voice, hard : stop.

aika's thoughts, assenting, obediant, a good girl : okay. sorry. )

"You're being silly," Aika almost giggles, smiling something dreamy and empty and easy, she's not sure how to —— maybe it isn't about Aika at all, which feels right, too. Maybe Kujira means it literally, spending love she doesn't have. But Kujira has so much love. Kujira is so loved. Does she just need things like Aika and Tartaglia to give her more? They both would, Aika knows. "You love lots, Jira. And you're loved a lot, too."

Kujira and Aika are warped mirrors, except Kujira only thinks they don't deserve love, and Aika knows she doesn't. Aika understands. But even hazy like this, even carved out, even barely - breathing, Aika doesn't want Kujira to think ——

"Looking at you feels all...soft and warm and lovey - dovey. Like having a warm blanket over your head. That's love!"