memories of a bygone age

Hotaru

Outside the traffic lights
They turn from green to red

If she didn't think her presence would be of some benefit, Hotaru would have been happy to allow this moment to happen privately, but as she sits beside Sunjata and provides as much support as she can with his walls so high she hopes she wasn't wrong. It's no offense to her that his side of the bond is impenetrably silent - vulnerability has always been difficult for Sunjata, and Alys has a way of looking past all the smoke and mirrors to the heart of you. Hotaru had been forced to learn to open up before she ever met the Seer, and even she had found it quite difficult to contend with the naked understanding present in her friend's eyes the day she'd had her cards read.

It's a blessing and a curse that Alys is able to translate that comprehension into words that flay you open, and with each new card Sunjata says less and less. Yet all she does is hold his hand tight until the moment he finally looks to her, and the faintness of his smile is met with all the love she can possibly pour into one expression. "Don't diminish your efforts," she chides softly, for he has already come so far since the war - since even further beyond. Even if nobody else can see the change he has worked so hard to uphold, Hotaru can. She has seen Sunjata plain since the moment she met him, and long has she wondered if it was because it was not unlike looking into a mirror. Each step is all the more weighted with what you've gone through. You can't expect speed at the same time. Even if he does not hear it, the sentiment remains the same, one that is just a touch too private to be said aloud where Alys can hear. She knows how hard it must be to trust Alys on the basis of her connection to Hotaru alone, so the Valkyrie won't force any more into the light than the cards already have.

And as my heart applies the brakes
I reach across the empty bed