Hotaru
nothing's fair in love and war
Where there are storms to be found, Hotaru is rarely far behind. The ocean is still briskly cold in the spring, even at the edge, but it doesn’t daunt her. Her skin is accustomed to the biting chill of Halo, of The Basin. Her skirt tangles in her legs as she walks barefoot down the shore, shoes hanging from one hand. It feels strange to be alone still even after all this time without Atlas. Even longer without Alice. It will likely never feel the same again. Even so, it’s easier with every season. Time heals all wounds, even those you desperately try to cling to.
There is no one to alert her to the presence of another. No eyes but her own to stare in bewilderment at the tall figure on the beach, so familiar to her she would know it with all her senses stripped. It’s a hard-won gift to be able to approach without trepidation, and her it still comes when she is close enough to see how bedraggled he looks. Frowning, her stride hastens, and her free hand reaches automatically to cross the distance even before he is within reach. “Jata? Are you okay?” Speaking over the wind, senses sharpening and going on alert.
