Hotaru drops her gaze after they meet and hold, spinning the cloth beneath her fingers as she tries to reign in her reaction. Because this is a goodbye, a parting of ways, and at last she recognizes that. Wonders if maybe she's just late to that realization, if he'd been trying to tell her that when he'd gifted her the dagger. A consolation prize for all he has put her through, a way of buying her out of continuing to be present in his life.
His response is just further confirmation, and instead of responding she merely gives a soft hum of acknowledgement. They've had this fight already, there's...there's nothing more to say.
He lifts his gaze to find hers, but he won't. She continues to stare down at the top of the bar, idly fiddling with the cloth. It doesn't necessarily hurt, but there's an emptiness that aches. A white flag, a realization that there's no use in fighting further. When they had last met she had thought maybe...
But she was wrong.
Standing, she fixes a random crease in her skirt and lifts her gaze at last to Sunjata as she stares at him quietly for a moment. Memorizing, perhaps. "Then that's it, I suppose. Lesson learned, and baggage dropped." A twitch of her shoulders in pale imitation of a shrug. Hotaru is just tired. He feels so far away now, despite being within arm's reach. Moving on not just from the hell he'd been in, but from her as well. As if she had ever earned the right to remain by his side, as a friend or anything more. She delicately folds the cloth out of lack of something to do with her hands, and leaves it on the bar. Perhaps he will use it to polish after the cleaning is done, considering the quality. It's easier to focus on that than what's really happening inside her head.
Hotaru straightens regally, remembering better days and tilting her chin higher. She can almost feel her mother's hands helping her do it, whispering in her ear that she can't keep chasing what doesn't want to be caught. "I sincerely hope you find what makes you happy. You deserve that, at least. Even after everything." Something she will stand by ever since the night she said it, curled in his arms and praying he would hear her. Hoping he would value himself for once in his life. But whatever was between them, she can't keep clinging to. Even if she wants to so badly that her nails reflexively dig into her palms hard enough to draw blood, to stop herself from reaching out and touching him one last time. Unsure if she'd have the strength to step away if she gave in. There's a million things she can say now; goodbye, be well, find me if you need me. I love you. None of them settle right on her tongue, so she mutely nods her head and turns away from the wreckage. Unsure if she means the bar or the man behind it.
His response is just further confirmation, and instead of responding she merely gives a soft hum of acknowledgement. They've had this fight already, there's...there's nothing more to say.
He lifts his gaze to find hers, but he won't. She continues to stare down at the top of the bar, idly fiddling with the cloth. It doesn't necessarily hurt, but there's an emptiness that aches. A white flag, a realization that there's no use in fighting further. When they had last met she had thought maybe...
But she was wrong.
Standing, she fixes a random crease in her skirt and lifts her gaze at last to Sunjata as she stares at him quietly for a moment. Memorizing, perhaps. "Then that's it, I suppose. Lesson learned, and baggage dropped." A twitch of her shoulders in pale imitation of a shrug. Hotaru is just tired. He feels so far away now, despite being within arm's reach. Moving on not just from the hell he'd been in, but from her as well. As if she had ever earned the right to remain by his side, as a friend or anything more. She delicately folds the cloth out of lack of something to do with her hands, and leaves it on the bar. Perhaps he will use it to polish after the cleaning is done, considering the quality. It's easier to focus on that than what's really happening inside her head.
Hotaru straightens regally, remembering better days and tilting her chin higher. She can almost feel her mother's hands helping her do it, whispering in her ear that she can't keep chasing what doesn't want to be caught. "I sincerely hope you find what makes you happy. You deserve that, at least. Even after everything." Something she will stand by ever since the night she said it, curled in his arms and praying he would hear her. Hoping he would value himself for once in his life. But whatever was between them, she can't keep clinging to. Even if she wants to so badly that her nails reflexively dig into her palms hard enough to draw blood, to stop herself from reaching out and touching him one last time. Unsure if she'd have the strength to step away if she gave in. There's a million things she can say now; goodbye, be well, find me if you need me. I love you. None of them settle right on her tongue, so she mutely nods her head and turns away from the wreckage. Unsure if she means the bar or the man behind it.
Feel the fear and swallow back the tears
Let weakness disappear, there's nobody but me here
Let weakness disappear, there's nobody but me here
