Hotaru
I'm made of dead man's money, you can see it in my smile
They're a shattered pair, the two of them. They've managed to find ways to collage the pieces together and make something beautiful lately. But the only way this works - the only way she leaves this moment still unaware - is to invoke a presence so beloved it stifles all objections. His eyes won't meet hers when she steps back, but the twisted knot of his brow makes her stomach do the same. To her, this isn't selfishness. She can't see him in such a cruel way. To go from the Festival of Lights to this...it's the perfect context for his lie. Sometimes the grief returns unexpectedly. Sometimes Hotaru wakes up with Ru'in's name on her lips and she doesn't know why, and all she can do is curl up motionless in bed until the next day comes. Sunjata has always given her that time and space. Hotaru can do the same.
She can. She must. Flora is alive, so the pain will surely fade. To comfort her now would be comforting the afterimages of what-ifs. His pain is actively burning inside his chest - so how can she say hers is more important?
Her hands gently touch his face so as to reduce how it might startle him, pulling him lower so she can press a kiss to his forehead. "Don't worry about me. I'll be with Flora." And she will tell him what that entails later, when the hurt isn't so fresh he can't even look at her. Her thumbs brush over both cheeks in a parting kiss of their own before she steps back and out of reach. The warmth of his skin lingers in her palms for far too brief a moment. "I'm here whenever you're ready. No matter where I am. I love you." Always, and nothing will change that.
She shifts then, and the rustle of feathers as she takes flight is all she leaves behind.
She can. She must. Flora is alive, so the pain will surely fade. To comfort her now would be comforting the afterimages of what-ifs. His pain is actively burning inside his chest - so how can she say hers is more important?
Her hands gently touch his face so as to reduce how it might startle him, pulling him lower so she can press a kiss to his forehead. "Don't worry about me. I'll be with Flora." And she will tell him what that entails later, when the hurt isn't so fresh he can't even look at her. Her thumbs brush over both cheeks in a parting kiss of their own before she steps back and out of reach. The warmth of his skin lingers in her palms for far too brief a moment. "I'm here whenever you're ready. No matter where I am. I love you." Always, and nothing will change that.
She shifts then, and the rustle of feathers as she takes flight is all she leaves behind.
Watch the fire rise, burning through my paper skin
