#platonic everything

. you would send him gifts and letters with no response or return, but at least knew he received them when you'd call up the post office and they let you know that all your packages had been picked up

. you assumed he just wanted freedom from the clan before his closing in responsibility

. the little time you did have with satoru, you spent trying to make up for all the time you had missed out on, always buying sweets his father used to like in preparation for his small visits

. he never ate them around you but you'd always come back to the boxes empty

. after the star plasma vessel mission, he cut ties with you and just like the night he left for school, you cried

. he reached out again after struggling to raise megumi and tsumiki, to which you eagerly accepted his call for help and took on the responsibility of the two kids while satoru was busy

. when suguru defected you spent a good portion of the gojo clan's wealth on any and every sweet your late husband had ever liked, passing down the rest of his habits onto your son, finally

. the next years of your life were spent raising tsumiki and megumi alongside your son, spoiling them with the gojo clans massive wealth

. when satoru was sealed you stayed with shoko who comforted you, having known your son for a long time and probably better than you ever would

. megumi tried to cheer you up but it didn't really work until satoru was freed from the prison realm and you jumped onto him, begging him not to leave you like his father had to

. you watched as both of your boys fought, well, one taken over by the king of curses

. when you saw your little boy split in half on that screen, you walked out of the room and didn't look back, waiting for ui ui to transport satoru's body back so you could say goodbye

. you were opposed to yuta inhabiting satoru's body but let it happen, saying goodbye to shoko and leaving

suguru geto.

. with a son that could see strange creatures was a little weird but as a non sorcerer, you tried your best to understand

. you pampered and smothered suguru as he grew up, making sure that despite the fact you were raising him in a simple village, he had everything he could possibly want

. on your free weekends, you would take him out to the city and use up all your spare money to buy him whatever he wanted because you couldn't resist your boy's little face

. when someone showed up at your door, telling you your son had to go to jujutsu high because he was a very powerful sorcerer, you were devastated but proud of him for growing so fast

. suguru promised to call you every week and you saw him off with teary eyes

. he kept his promise, telling you about the two others in his class and all the missions he was being dispatched on while you worried and filled him in on all the village gossip

. in your second year, he told you about his juniors, two boys that he quite liked, especially the happier of the two

. when he was sent out to help the star plasma vessel you made him promise to call you every day with updates on how he was, especially because of the higher risk of the mission

. after the failure, you started noticing that he was changing

. you noticed he stopped eating and was coming home less and you'd never tell him but sometimes you sobbed at night, begging any higher being for your little boy back

. when he did come home, you didn't comment but always made sure to put more servings on his plate than your own

. once, you let slip that you thought something might be going on in the village, that you could hear distant and caged cries at times but didn't think it meant to much, that it was just your imagination

. after that, he stopped coming home completely

. you begged suguru to come home one day, on the one year anniversary of his father's death, telling him that you missed him

. he came home that night and he held you as you lit the incense for his father, the both of you pretending like you couldn't feel that cold pressure looming over your back

. suguru apologised to you as his curse attacked but you only smiled through your tears, insisting you could never hate your little boy

. in your last breath you only whispered his and your late husband's names, limp hand slipping from his cheek

ryomen sukuna.

. when your son was young, he'd always been labeled as a freak, a monster and an abomination by the people from your village

. as a result, you were ostracised from the people you had once known

. you took him and ran into the woods, living in one of the old buildings from the village your people had left behind in the past, just close enough to buy supplies when needed or during an emergency

. you sustained yourself and your son by growing your own crop and collecting water from the nearby river, as well as sewing your own clothes

. you knew that your son resented you for making him be born like this but you cared for him anyway

. at night when you thought he was asleep, you'd scream up at the sky, asking what you had done to deserve this

. he heard it all and began to pull away, realising he was the reason you had to live in the woods, and for your pain despite the fact you would tuck him in every night and assure him that you would love him no matter what

. in a particular harsh winter when you had burnt all your supplies, you had to venture out into the woods to reach the village and did not return for three days, leaving your son alone in the house

. when you returned the snow storm had ended, you were beat and frostbitten, collapsing just before you reached the door

. he raced out and brought you inside, ignoring the produce you had bought until after he was sure you were okay

. he nursed you back to health as well as he could and demanded you tell him who had made you this weak

. you reluctantly told him who, believing that your boy wouldn't do anything but he left, returning the next day dirtied, marking the beginning of his bloodlust

. your sickness never truly disappeared but he took you with him anyway as he rose through the ranks

. as it progressed, you began to lose hope of ever recovering, begging your boy to just kill you, to end your suffering

. he disagreed with your pleas in the beginning but your whining began to become irritating so he did it quickly for you, ordering uraume to preserve your body

. that day, he gained the name ryomen sukuna

. years into the future when yorozu questioned if sukuna had already known love, the briefly thought back to you and wondered where your body had ended up

toji fushiguro.

. being a woman in the zen'in clan was not easy, especially when your son was everything that your clan hated

. married into the clan at a young age, you were forced to have a child at the end of your teens

. things only got worse when it was revealed that your son had not a pinch of cursed energy despite being a zen'in

. you were separated from those around you, because apparently it was your fault for birthing a boy without any talent, raising your son without the help of even your husband

. when toji was a baby, you spent each day focused on only him, tending to whatever he may need while the maids took care of your tasks and you'd hold him at night, telling your baby boy that you loved him

. as he grew, you were always there, letting your boy know you loved him and would stick with him through thick and thin, loving him all the same despite the pain he had caused you

. you stood by him as he trained and grew, becoming something the clan feared rather than disgusted like he had been as a child, smiling and laughing through his hardships and when he would succeed

. over time, you knew he would want to sever his ties with the zen'in clan and actively encouraged him to do so, wanting your son to distance himself from the evil

. eventually, he grew larger than you and when you would roam the courtyard, toji would loom behind you and scare off all the people who used to ridicule you for birthing a monster and disgrace like him

. you remembered when young naoya approached, you knew he was there to see this toji zen'in, and you smiled down at the little boy, handing him your umbrella in the rain that you had previously been using to cover toji and youself

. in the future, maki would tell you that apparently toji had become naoya's chosen measure of strength and you his measure of what a good wife should be and look like. you told maki you were happy naoya took inspiration from someone good rather than any other zen'in despite how evil you both knew naoya was, twisting your and your son's image

. when toji told you that he had found a woman he loved, you were ecstatic and even more so when he said he would take her name

. you met her and helped her through her pregnancy not long after they married, helping with whatever they should need

. when toji's wife gave birth, you waited outside, not wanting to intrude on their moment and only entered after toji poked his head through the door, grunting at you and telling you to meet the brat

. you skipped past the nurse holding the baby to give to you, sitting by toji's wife and making sure she was okay (you knew what a hard pregnancy felt like after having toji)

. after being reassured she was okay, you moved onto toji, telling him to always do right by his son, that his son was a blessing and to never tell him otherwise, much like you told toji that he was your blessing when he was a child

. toji looked towards his wife, and decided to name him after your very words, megumi

. you held baby megumi after the other two passed out, toji in the chair behind his wife's bed, you told him stories about his father he would never remember to pass the time and to put himself above others because it was the only way to survive this world of jujutsu

. after toji and his wife woke back up, you kissed them both on the cheek goodbye and headed back to the clan, you supposed this was time to pay the debt you owed for letting your son live all those years ago

nanami kento.

. you had always known that your boy was strange, a little robotic if anything but you never minded, always smiling as you kissed his cheek and tucked him in

. when he told you he was seeing monsters, you were a little concerned but brushed it off as something childish, instead being happy about your son embracing the kid side of him

. how wrong could you have been

. as kento grew older you still babied him, much to his displeasure

. you bought him his band tees and paid for the haircuts you found a little too edgy for your liking but insisted they made him look handsome nonetheless

. when a strange sunglasses wearing man showed up at your house, informing you that your son could see curses and had something called a cursed technique used to exorcise them, you were concerned for the man and skeptical but thought back to kento's childhood and supposed it could be somewhat true

. kento told you he wanted to go to this school the man was telling you about, so you reluctantly let him into your house

. after some convincing, you eventually agreed

. when your boy started school, he told you about the only other in his year, yu haibara, who was a little too happy but somehow mixed in well with kento and the others in the year above him

. when haibara passed, you were devastated, having had that boy over to your house many times to the point you referred to him as yu

. when kento confessed to you that he wanted to leave jujutsu society, you said you would support him in every and any life he chose, but you knew that it wouldn't last, that jujutsu sorcery was his true calling, that it was his freedom

. when he told you he wanted to go back to jujutsu, you smiled knowingly, pressing a kiss to his forehead and packing his bags for tokyo

. kento came home after a mission once, accompanied by a younger man who introduced himself as ino takuma, both in need of some light patching up

. you accepted takuma as your second son immediately, adjusting his beanie slash mask so it was straight

. after shibuya, takuma came to your house with another boy, as you lived decently close and they were simply tired

. you welcomed them both in and they told you the news, sitting down in tears as you, takuma and the boy, yuji, held each other and sobbed

. after cleaning yourself up, you left the two on their own, while you prepared dinner for the three of you, kento's old favourite

. while the three of you sat, you told them about the trips you took your little boy on to malaysia whenever you could gather enough money to spare, at some point you called yuji yu and didn't notice, tears flowing again with the little comfort that now your two boys were together again

Before anyone can say anything, you agree, volunteering first despite Neteyam and Kiri being against it. Lo’ak wants to fight as well, but the knowing glance you give him tells him enough. So he backs down.

He doesn’t know what your plan is, but knows it’s going to be interesting. A “friendly” sparring session is your pretense if anyone asks. But all of you knew it was more than that.

You and your opponent go to your places in the middle of the clearing, you don’t recall his name. But he looked like Rotxo. You never cared much for the other characters back then. But now you figure you should try and learn, since you’re actually here, interacting with them. Maybe they’re related? Who cares? You remind yourself to focus on the fight.

It started off well, as normal as any sparring session. Dodging, blocking.

While you’re focused on where his limbs are, you forget about his tail. It’s only been a couple years since you’ve had this body yourself after all. Before you get the chance to process what’s happening, he spins suddenly and you have the wind knocked out of you.

Your keeling over as your hand goes to the center of your abdomen, pain blooming where he struck you. Eyes down, you don’t see the smirk on his face.

The others did. It elicits chuckles from his side.

When you finally look at him, confused. The smirk is gone, and he’s giving a half-assed apologetic shrug as he pulls his tail back, fixing his stance. You blink, thinking it was an accident at first, so you shake it off.

Then he does it again with his hand this time, aiming for your left side—tries to at least—because you’re already blocking his hit, yet it still catches you off balance. You’re narrowing your eyes at him when you do. He ignores it.

You're huffing, regaining your stance once more. When he tries doing it a third time, you’re quicker to react now, grabbing his arm to pull him towards you, maneuvering him around, pinning it against his back and pushing as hard as you could behind him. He stumbles.

Reef boy wants to spin? You’ll make him spin.

He looks back at you, and your eyebrow quirks up, challenging him to try that again; See where that gets you.

He quickly recovers, he’s masking the surprise on his face with glare.

Suddenly his face freezes, and he looks past you. He stands up straight as he lowers his head;  “Olo’eyktan.”

You and the others follow suit, you turn to face the chief, to offer respect. Your eyes search, the path, the trees, only to find no one. And before you realize you’ve been tricked, your vision blurs as you fall face first. Your legs kicked under you.

“Kurkung! That’s not fair!” You hear Lo’ak yell, followed by jeers and laughter behind you.

“I cannot believe you actually fell for that!” He’s sneering at you. Hand on his hip as his friends congratulate him. “Maybe this is what forest people are? So very gullible.”

Lo’ak knew he was referring to him. How he trusted them in the water that time only for them to leave him behind. He’s about to run to the center, to you, to help you up and give this guy a good beating that he deserves.

But when he moved, Neteyam was quick to grab his arm and keep him from getting closer. Or do something rash that could worsen the situation. Like the almost brawl that happened on the beach one time. And you who seemed to be aware of it, because you were the one who pulled Neteyam aside and informed him about his siblings. And how you told him to follow your lead, watching you pack sand into your hands into a ball, and to his horror, watches you launch it into the crowd.

Lo’ak whips his head back to his older brother, gesturing to you. “Bro this isn’t even a fight anymore!”

Neteyam’s thoughts get pulled back to the present, ears twitching at the sound of his sibling’s voice and how he keeps trying to pull his arm away. But Neteyam’s not looking at his brother, he was focused on you, eyes locked on to your face.

His expression scrunched together in a look akin to worry. When Neteyam doesn’t answer, Lo’ak gets impatient, pulling his arm away but Neteyam’s grip is vice-like. So it’s fruitless.

He looks back to where you were on the ground, he opens his mouth to say something but nothing comes when he realizes just how quiet you’ve been as the reef boys behind you laugh together.

The Sully kids watching grew concerned when you don’t yell something back. Uncharacteristic of you. No tell of your feelings other than your ears pinned flat against the sides of your head, your tail that was lashing violently suddenly became very still as you raised your head, lips pursed together in an almost snarl.

With your face covered in sand, you push yourself up, slowly rising. Ever so silent, but Neteyam saw that flash of visceral anger in your eyes, determined to prove something, to prove yourself.

You’re wiping your face, getting rid of most of the sand. Neteyam let’s go of Lo’ak. Who doesn’t move from his place this time. Thank Eywa.

It took one exchanged look between Neteyam and Kiri before they started standing up, preparing to intervene. Neither of them has ever seen you like this. Not even in the years you spent in the forest with them. He’s seen you be competitive, push yourself harder, become harsher, meaner. But not like this, not this silent.

He recognizes it all the same. That anger for being underestimated. For being pushed farther than they can take.

He doesn’t understand what’s changed with you. What made you decide to show it now. But then again, everyone has their limits. Their breaking point. Maybe this is yours. Whatever you do next, he doesn’t know if he has it in him to criticize you for it like he usually does.

He watches as you change your footing, angling your body before launching yourself at him, hands at the ready to scratch, punch, and everything. Catching your opponent off guard, that for a second he felt a hint of blood lust.

There was fear in his eyes now as he flinched back. And a part of you liked it.

One thing leads to another, he didn’t intend this—you knew—he got caught up in the moment and it all happened so fast, because now there’s a knife through your shoulder.

Everyone’s cheering and yelling stops, eyes wide, stunned with how this all turned into. Neteyam and Kiri who were making their way towards you froze.

This went very badly.

All you remember was one minute you’re both still on your feet, the next you had your knee on his stomach, forcing all your weight into him, the air in his lungs knocked out. You were aiming to hurt. And what’s worse was your reaction. You weren’t even paying attention to the blade an inch in your shoulder. You were still looking at him.

Someone who likes to beat others when they’re already down and fight dirty, massive amounts of arrogance that reeked off of his body. You hated people like that the most. You’ve dealt with far too many.

“Tsahey—!” Your opponent curses. Not believing what he just did either, he doesn’t know when exactly he reached for his blade. When he pulled it out from his sheath, or when he wrapped both hands around the hilt, and especially when he pushed it into the flesh of your shoulder.

He’s about to tell you he’s sorry. That he didn’t mean it. That you scared him. But the words die in his throat when he meets eyes with you. A chill running up his spine.

You were still staring at him with the same intensity and animosity as before. Lips pulled back into a snarl. To his horror, and everyone else watching, you’re pushing your body forwards, ignoring the knife digging deeper into your shoulder or the dark shade of blood that spurt out, trailing down your arm, staining his trembling hands.

“G—” he sputters out. Terrified. “GET THEM OFF ME.”

That snaps everyone out of it. Before either of you knew it, everyone’s scrambling, surrounding you both.

It takes multiple people to pull you off him. With you still lashing at him, reaching for him, struggling against the multiple pairs of arms keeping you contained even when the knife ends up getting pulled out of you, falling on the ground. Your opponent on the other hand was only accompanied by two, helping him up and steadying him.

“What is wrong with you?! You’re insane!”

You’re screaming back at him, it takes even more effort to restrain you, keep you from ripping the boy apart. You don’t even remember what you screamed out, but whatever it was, it rattles him further. Stepping backwards, his companions followed suit.

Nobody trusts you enough to let go. Not even Lo’ak. He’s looking at you like he doesn’t even recognize you.

“Let me go.” You tell them, facial expression blank. Your eyes still zeroed on the boy before you.

“Stop. Snap out of it.” Kiri's hand was firm over your shoulder, one hand on your wound, putting pressure over it after the others unintentionally pulled the knife out. Neteyam cursed loudly, putting his hand over hers as well to put more pressure on your wound. The bleeding won’t stop, any normal na’vi would be panicking right now, but you’re anything but normal. You’re not even a real one.

“Calm down, it’s over now.” Neteyam’s eyes flick over to your face. You’re still not looking at him, even when he is right in front of you. So this is what you look like when you’re truly angry.

He never got to push you this far…no, he did, once. He’s glad he chose not to push you so much anymore. He realizes he doesn’t want to see you like this. Overcome with so much anger. You were angry then, but not like this.

You spit out; “It’s not over until he’s dea—“

“—ENOUGH.” A voice boomed through the chaos. “What is going on here?”

Everyone turns, and this time Tonowari really is there, accompanied by Jake, and there’s Tsireya hiding behind them. Almost ashamed for telling on you all, with her hands clasped together.

“Well, party's over.” Lo’ak muttered under his breath, the first time in his life he’s relieved he got caught. He smiles at Tsireya, happy. She returns it, albeit a bit shyer, mirroring his relief that she got here in time before further damage was done.

Olo’eyktan - clan leader Tsahey - expression of warning or frustration, "crap!", "ah, hell!" Kurkung - asshole Iknimiya -  (Na'vi for "Stairway to Heaven") is a treacherous but fundamental rite of passage, young hunters of the Omatikaya clan must select, capture, and successfully bond with one of the ikran who nest in the Hallelujah Mountains. (Avatar Wiki)

“This is the second time I put you in charge and again, you’re the main instigator.” Jake points a finger at you, patience thinning every moment he’s looking at you. Your eyes are still lowered, not looking at him knowing it would provoke him further. You cringed at the final stitch Ronal made.

It hurt, but, not as bad as you expected it to with no anesthesia. You’re reminded of how weak and fragile human bodies are. 

“Dad, no, they were—” Lo’ak gets cut off.

“And you, why didn’t you stop it?! Why didn’t any of you stop it? I raised you kids better than this!” You watch as Lo’ak deflates at that. Fuck, you hated this, he’s just defending you. You purse your lips.

“It wasn’t his fault. It was mine.” You insist, eyes looking down as Ronal treated you, thick herbal paste rubbed into your skin.

He laughs out, humorless. Pointing a finger at you; “Don’t even start kid, I trusted that you’d keep them outta trouble. Not that you’d be the one getting in trouble instead. I can’t even–”

The disapproving look Ronal gives you for speaking up without permission didn’t go unnoticed. Not when she puts a little bit more pressure on your wound when you speak up, a warning. Stifling the hiss under your breath at the pain, you continued anyway; “It was just a sparring session…things got out of hand.”

Ronal tightens the wrappings around your shoulder, tying the last knot. She gives you one final look, one which you couldn’t read—whether she was disapproving of you further or something else—then she releases a sigh that has you confused as she gathers her things and gets up.

Was that a sigh of disappointment? Or frustration? You couldn’t tell. Before she leaves, she turns to you; “You are lucky your friends knew to put pressure on the wound, had you bled out more, it would have been a matter of time until they were dragging an unconscious body to my hut.” 

You purse your lips at that. You’re moving your injured shoulder, testing it out and flinching when the familiar spike of pain comes. Jake’s shaking his head, fingers on his temples as he turned away, no doubt trying to calm himself down before he got even angrier. Tonowari notices his struggle, so he steps in this time.

“What of you,” he points to your opponent. Who tenses at the acknowledgment of his presence. Not looking up but knowing he was talking to him. “Explain why you thought it was necessary to unsheath your blade during sparring?”

You exhale, watching as he struggled to find the words to speak. It must be humiliating to admit you were scared of someone in a sparring match of all things, a play fight. Not even an actual fight.

Your jaw tightens when you make a decision. You decide to spare him from it. You stand up, then step in front of him, almost protecting him from Tonowari’s gaze, shocking everyone as you gestured to yourself. Neteyam’s shaking his head already, of course you’d do this, for someone who would’ve cared less if you were in his position no less. He couldn’t believe you sometimes.

“It was my fault. I took things too far.” You take blame again, and Jake turns to look at you. You don’t know if you were seeing things but for a second, in your peripheral vision, you saw his face soften.

You glance at him to double check, but he’s quick to mask it with the same smoldering look he was giving you and the other kids. You quickly pull your eyes away, ears lowering further.

You forgot how awful it felt to frequently disappoint someone who believed in you as much as Jake did. You don’t miss it.

“…I let my emotions get to me and I attacked first. All he did was hurt my pride, I overreacted, and he was just—” you glance at the boy. He’s looking at you, like you were crazy, he doesn’t understand why you’re defending him, neither do you but here you were, coming up with an explanation for his sake. “—defending himself because I was trying to hurt him.”

And it’s true. You were. You really wanted to hurt him. You still do now that you think about it. It went from just wanting to prove yourself, to wanting to hurt someone. And you gave in. You’re never forgiving yourself for that.

You don’t know where you stand anymore but you’re not a kid. They don’t see it because nobody knows the lives you lived before Pandora. On Earth. And before, in your life before this one, where this place was just a figment of someone’s imagination brought to life by a man crazy enough to do it and deliver. And you—who by chance—decided to peek into it and allow it to entangle itself in your life. Bringing color, hope.

You think back, how sometimes, you wonder which is your real life, which is the real you. There was a time you kept referring to your old one as if it was the present, like this, as if you being here, you being on Pandora was a dream you could wake from any second. Sometimes it still feels that way.

It was easier to feel distant when you were still planning things ahead, preparing yourself before you came here and actually speaking with the family you came to know so well before they came to know you.

And even after, you don’t act like you’re here. You’re still not present, your thoughts are always about the past, what you know, if not that, it was in the upcoming future. The storyline. The plot…the deaths.

Your thoughts are constantly occupied with making plans to avoid what was set in stone. It’s not all hopeless. You’ve proved it, time and time again. You changed something, little by little. You just had to try. Even if there was some kind of friction against it, like a force trying to stop you from going further, changing something bigger.

And there was something with the flora and bioluminescence that reacted to your very presence. The wetness of your knees when you scrape them and the pain that comes after you stumble. You think of how it felt, how it grounded you back to the reality that, well—this is your reality now. Not modern Earth back in the mid 2020s.

There is no past you anymore. Just you. That the life you’re so hung up on is over. You died, and somehow, by some miracle here you were. Living a new life. Not necessarily better. War is coming. But, not for a while. Honestly, there was no difference on that part. Your world then was also on the verge of war, whose to say it already wasn’t in one? This is preferable, at least for you.

You experienced what little affection the animals gave around you, as if acknowledging that you are not of this world, not of this universe, they don't see you as a threat. That they know you are here to set something right.

It’s not like all of the animals are friendly. Many of them will still kill you if given the chance. Opportunistic predators are what they were. But it’s how they survive here. Their way of life and you’ve done what you could to respect it, to adjust.

Kiri says the Great Mother sees you.

You don’t know how to feel about that. You haven’t told her about the truth. You haven’t told anyone. Nobody knows and every day you try to bury the guilt you carry that came with being reborn in this universe. That nagging feeling of being an imposter. If being an avatar driver made you an imposter. What about one that came from a different universe? Where all of this was fiction?

It was something you struggled with from the very beginning. Why you were overcompensating so much, why you went above and beyond and then pushed the recognition on someone else.

You were quite good at that. You did your best not to lie outside of necessity though.

It still didn’t help the feeling you got that no matter how hard you try, you’ll never truly be anyone’s friend here.

You don’t know when your priorities began to change. When you stopped constantly secluding yourself and finally allowing them to include you. You were still with them on their adventure still but you weren’t part of it exactly. You never let yourself be part of it. Opting to watch from the sidelines.

But at the time when you were still putting distance between you and the others, Neteyam was very insistent in going against your wishes when they all noticed.

The 3 older Sully siblings would mount their ikrans. Tuk riding with Lo’ak, and you? You just watched. Sitting on a fallen tree, maybe a rock. Declining again because you haven’t gotten your own ikran yet. You kept putting off your own iknimaya for the first two years. For what reason, they don’t know. 

You’d be having a peaceful moment, watching them fly, yelling, laughing. And then suddenly Neteyam would grab you as he flew past. Either it was him, arms around your torso, or it’s Ninrra, chortling as her claws found your arms. 

You on the other hand, you’re cursing at him with every na’vi and human curse word you could remember from the top of your head. English, Tagalog, Spanish. Fucking Korean. It was impressive, if anything.

That’s how they learned you’re sort of a polyglot. It makes sense, you learned na’vi quite quickly when you first arrived at the Omatikaya clan.

And he just laughs at you. Either pulling you behind him, holding on to you until you were secured, or letting Ninrra drop you behind Kiri. You’d still be seething when you find yourself desperately grabbing on to her, not appreciating being manhandled and caught off guard like that without a warning.

But when he’s turning away, and when you think nobody’s paying attention. Your lips pull into a smile.

And maybe it was the kind eyes that trail after you. The insistent but gentle touches. The hand holding on to yours, pulling you towards the campfire in the center of the village. The roughhousing, the pranks. The laughter that escaped your chest, shared with Kiri and Tuk whenever Neteyam and Lo’ak got into another argument together and started chasing each other around.

Maybe it was the comfort you felt, the sounds of the forest when it was just you left awake listening to the soft breaths of those you came to call your friends. You, alone, staring at the stars with a childlike wonder and hope, as well as the anxiety you felt for the future that only let itself be known at night.

Only calming down when the stars twinkled back at you, as if they were telling you;  “What a wonderful gift it is that you are here.”

And only then can you close your eyes and rest.

It was when you realized you truly did enjoy being their friend. Outside of all the responsibility you placed on yourself. The weight of your own expectations. The fear that grapples you when you think of Neteyam, his upcoming death. The tragedy that befalls this family.

You want to try and save them. You can’t save the entirety of Pandora, but you want to try and save them.

That you’re part of this. And for a second you let yourself believe it, you allow yourself to hope that this is your place now. You’re not a bystander. You’re not the 4th wall.

But that feeling is persistent. Even if deep down you know better.

You know better. And yet, here you are, back in the present, finding yourself in a situation where you wanted to hurt a kid, for simply being a kid.

You allowed the pettiness of one to get to you.

You ignore how that thought genuinely hurts your pride because right now your main concern was making sure nobody else got in trouble for the actions you took.

Currently, Tonowari is assessing you and your opponent. Then, he examines the others.

He notes the way they were avoiding eye-contact with him, and how they reacted with everything you said tells him that there is more to the story, but they were not speaking up.

He realizes it was not because they were afraid of being punished, but because, somehow despite this rivalry and juvenile hostility among you, they still all had a sense of respect for you, at least when you spoke up like this.

It was interesting to watch the way you affected those around you. Whether on purpose or not. He does not know how far exactly your intentions go. Whether you’re aware that when you do push, the people surrounding you make room. That when you make your position known, where you stand, nobody really tries to challenge it—not in the way it matters.

Your input had value. Your opinions were respected.

And if you were actively making the choice to take the blame—be the bigger person—who is he to deny that? It doesn’t hurt to set an example.

He turns to Jake, who’s giving him a look that told him he had similar thoughts. He tilts his head, shrugging as if to say; “Well, there’s nothing else we can do here.”

Tonowari faces you all again. He exhales; “Then, it is settled.”

art by @/ebilmonk on twt (they deleted their account i heard, took this off of pinterest, looked it up myself, bro is gone </3)

“Hey Ro,” he said back, it really was peacefully quiet, in general really. Virgil and Logan were in the living room. Both were leaning over the book Roman had gifted their third. It was an enchanted book, one he had specially created about astronomy. One that would update and accumulated the information that Thomas learnt in his new course. It also had the space for cool graphics and film that was showed in class and moving image diagrams. They both looked fascinated by what was on the page.

It was that in between time of Christmas and New Years. The holiday vibe still hung in the air like the scent of pine sap, cinnamon and ginger, but like anything, was slowly fading like the short days light. People were itching to get moving again, to progress, yet wanting to hang suspended in the time where they were. Unwrapped gifts were still in groupings waiting to be looked at again. He had received a really neat notebook from Logan that he had yet to crack open again. The fridge was filled with leftovers and the counter was littered with half finished trays of treats. It was peaceful, the in between time was perfect to sit and not worry about what was going to happen next. Even Virgil didn’t seem as tense right now.

“You did good, ya know?” Patton said gently, after taking a sip of his warm drink.

“Hmm?” he hummed, tilting his head.

“The decorations, the gifts, Virgil’s Birthday, everything went really well. I’m proud of you.”

“Well, it’s a special year, I had to put on the best.” He looked back to Virgil and Logan as they flipped a page of already known knowledge, and one of the many images of the milky way night sky popped up, and Roman saw how their eyes twinkled with stars like the book showed, even if their wonder filled expressions stayed small.

“Every year is special, but I agree, this one more than usual. It would have been good any way if something didn’t work out.”  

“I know, but still, I wanted his first Christmas to be a good one, and his birthday.”

“Ya, there’s a lot to make up for.” Patton sighed, a low breath that had his shoulders drooping a little.

“There is, but, you all okay Pat?”

He received a curious head tilt.

“I mean, how are you? You are feeling all fine? Or…”

“Oh, ya, I’m good, it was a little crazy the couple days before hand, ya know. With the video and shopping, but now. It’s all good. We got to see family and visit. Friends are all good. The video was received very well and we got some shorts out, thanks to you. So, everything’s all… ya know.”

“Peaceful?”

“Peaceful.”

“Do you think the others would like a cup of coco?” he nodded to the half full pot of previously boiled water, canister of hot chocolate powder open on the counter beside it. Virgil flipped a page again and Logan pointed out something interesting on it, making their fourth nod and point something else out on the page. Their small smiles growing a little.

“Maybe, let them have some time together, Virgil is finally looking as calm as he can be, especially with the stress from earlier in the week. And Logan is not working over any schedule right now, they’re both having fun.” Patton replied softly, and took another sip from his cup.

Roman nodded, moving to make himself a cup. “Yes, good idea. Are you ready for New Years?”

“Are we?” Patton asked, shrugging.

“I’d like to think so. We got goodies and chips, so we don’t need to go to the store, and the normal friend group is coming over, everything like normal.”

“So then were good, no worries.”

“Well, we can’t ensure that our resident worrywart will not, but we can do our best.” He stirred in a couple spoonsful of powder, the fresh sweet smell wafting up. He smiled lightly as he returned to his spot, taking his own sip of coco.

“It will be good-” Patton was interrupted by a large yawn, hand moving to cover his mouth.

“Tired?”

“Kind of, what time is it?”

“Almost half past one in the morn,” he grinned, craning his head to see the clock.

“Well, our sleep schedule is non-existent.” He replied with a light giggle.

“When did we ever have a sleep schedule?”

“When we were straight.”

“Ah-” Roman snickered at the joke. “So never then.”

“Yup.” They stayed quiet, leaning on the counter, taking sips of coco and glances of Virgil and Logan enjoying the book. They would go to bed soon, Thomas, everyone needed their sleep, but no one wanted to yet. It was that time when the clock was more a decoration than anything, and ticking hands hung still in between the holiday madness. Where things progress slowly, inevitably, but it was good progress nether less.

If anything, it was peaceful.