Hotaru
My head's a burial ground of your memory
Months.It's like her soul is a spindly birch tree, and this singular word the mighty swing of an axe that fells it in one go. Staying on her feet is all at once a herculean task. Though looking away pains her with the threat that they might disappear the moment she does, it's the only way to give herself enough of a reprieve, enough scrapped together privacy, to keep her composure. "Months," she says softly, scarcely a breath much less a word. Hotaru does not sense their unspoken guilt, perhaps because she could never place blame upon them for this - this, her own brand of terrible fate coming to remind her that good things simply do not come without a price. Though that shadow had begun to retreat, she'd been crippled all at once by losing Rexanna, then Kiada, then herself.
But here she is, returned. Perhaps not hale and whole, but with her mind and heart intact. That's enough. For now, with them at her side, it will be enough.
The throbbing in her leg isn't apparent until Nate lifts her into his arms, and her pulse stutters as she turns to cradle against his chest. Sunjata is not far, his tall frame kept in the corners of her eyes, tracking his every move even as she focuses on Nate's chiseled jaw and the inky curling strands of hair that frame his regal brow. Even having bathed in the freezing river, she feels too unclean to touch him, but Hotaru has never denied her own avaricious impulses even with tainted hands. Her palm lifts to touch his cheek, pressing her forehead to his throat. A silent gesture, if only because her throat refuses to form words. It's easier to hide away in him than watch the world pass by. Only lifting her head when they arrive to take in the home they have rebuilt. Atlas leaves them at the front door, a gentle caress of his mind telling her he's only off to secure his own food after months of tending to them both.
Her heart stutters in helpless romance as she is carried inside, eyes roving across every available surface. It's beautiful. Emanating a sense of welcome and belonging. The patter of tiny paws draws her gaze to the floor, and even exhaustion cannot stop her from crooning affectionately at the tiny kittens that skitter across the wood. Not that the starlit whale is any less noticeable. So much has changed. A gentle tap to Nate's arm - enough for him to notice, if he cannot feel the pressure - communicates her request to be set down in the nearest kitchen chair. Her hands don't shake as much as she grabs the glass of water, downing it embarrassingly quickly as it soothes her throat, already tired from speaking for the first time - that she can recall - in months.
Taking initiative if only to keep herself busy, she props her leg up and unties the crude bandage she'd created from her own ripped blouse. It's long and twisted, but thankfully not worryingly deep. Not that it keeps her gaze for long, looking instead at their surroundings with a wistful smile. "It's beautiful," she murmurs, feeling the high-strung tension beginning to fade now that she is warming up, surrounded by her two beloveds and the home they have created in her absence. Hotaru's eyes are suspiciously shiny as she looks up to them, hand reaching for Sunjata's, needing his touch as much as she'd needed Nate's. "I didn't know it was possible to miss you so much while still thinking I saw you only days ago." Her voice is slightly clogged as she says it. It's as if her heart knew to ache for them even as her mind washed away the memory of days missed.
