imatreenow | ✘ appointments

[Martel wouldn't let him help too much with packing up, constantly fretting about his leg. And he didn't protest too much, because he will never be too old to appreciate being taken care of by her. It also gave him the opportunity to spend his last moments with Sayo alone. Having both of them in the same apartment was strange enough, never mind in the same room. Two worlds that should never touch - family, and... Well, he still isn't sure what to think of Sayo. The human who broke all the rules to become the exception.

Mithos knew he would leave some day. He just didn't know that day would come so soon. Of course he's happy to have Martel by his side again. Happier than he had been, anyway, because he can't help but think that he still doesn't remember what 'happy' really feels like. But...he doesn't know. Something about the idea of leaving Sayo behind...]

Almost... [she doesn't have to gesture to them - he's already spotted the lunches. A quiet pang somewhere deep inside. Bittersweetness must be catching.]

My leg is fine. [even after the time they've spent together, he still can't branch out beyond simple replies to her questions. Something still holds him back from letting go and being himself. Old habits die hard.]

Oh, good, good.

[... Right! Everything'll be okay.

She motions to the lunches as she steps away from the counter, smiling a little.]

I made you two a lunch, for when you get home. Just a little something for the road. I hope Martel likes it! I wasn't sure what her favorite sorts of foods were, so I made a few different things...

[Her voice trembles just a little, and she's quiet for a moment.]

[After a beat, she bows a little, looking at the ground.]

Thank you for keeping me company.

[She wipes at the corner of her eye; definitely not crying. Not at all.]

I'm... going to miss having you here.

[...She would be left all alone. That is where the scraping feeling at the back of his heart comes from. He can identify all too readily with loneliness. The emptiness of thinking that there is nobody who will listen to you or care about your problems. He even remembers the agreement they made, before he ever came to live here, when she had no idea who she was writing to: we'll listen to each other.

It hasn't been broken. In the few months he's spent here, he's listened and watched, breaking out of his own shell for a few moments at a time to peer into hers. He just never said anything. He's still afraid of the barrier between human and not-quite-human that has been grafted into his brain, still unsure of how to breach it. Every step he takes is small, hesitant.

But he's taking them, one at a time.]

...Thank you. [because he's never said so to her before. It's all he can manage right now, but two words can speak volumes. Thank you for finding me that day, for picking me up and brushing me off. Thank you for giving me somewhere to stay, where I could be safe. Thank you for feeding me. For asking me how my day was. For somehow caring about me even though I'm different from you.]

[The withheld tears finally dribble down, and she turns herself, trying to keep them out of sight, even if it was a little too late for such a thing—it wouldn't be right, crying over something like this. She feels so selfish to think like that, but...]

A-ah, I—

Sorry, silly old me, always getting emotional--

[She turns, mouth trembling, but a determined look to her.]

If you—you or Martel-san ever need anything at all, anything, I want you to know that I'll be here for you! Because...

Even if it's strange, you're part of my family here in Luceti. Nothing can change that for me, even if I lose every memory in my head. You're always welcome here.

[He's stuck in his same old ways enough to be surprised by how much this goodbye seems to be affecting her. The question of why still buzzes around his head. Why are you so different from every other human?

Family. That experiment, from months ago. It stretches beyond that, though, and he's beginning to see just how far. He looks away.]

...I still don't understand. Why you would ever care about me, when you're a human... [but he's...happy that she does. Except he can't put that part into words, and he trails off into silence.]

[She laughs a little, softly, wiping her eye.]

Well, that's just how it is, isn't it? Humans can be really weird creatures, right?

[And then, in a gentler tone,]

Even so, there are plenty of reasons to care about someone like you, Mithos. You're a special, irreplaceable person.

[He tries to absorb her words. Special, irreplaceable. The world had treated him as anything but, even after he had done everything he could to save it from the brink of destruction. Mithos the Hero who ended the war was celebrated; Mithos the half-elf who wanted to be accepted was despised.

He looks at her, his voice tentative.]

...Even though I've hurt you in the past? [Does he regret his actions? It was what had to be done at the time... He doesn't think he can be blamed for self-preservation in the face of the unknown, and he isn't at fault for the violent emotions that grip him and drag him along. But...he does feel bad now, that she got hurt.]

Mmm...

Sometimes, people hurt each other, for different reasons: family, friends, people you don't really know—they can hurt you, or you them, whether accidental or intentional.

What you've done in the past, though... it doesn't matter to me. I forgave it a long time ago. You just did... what you've learned to do. I can't hate you for that, not at all.

Forgiveness is another thing I cannot understand... [Sometimes, he wishes he could... But he's drifted along for this long, hating every human he possibly can, regardless of whether they were even alive when his sister was killed, or even if they don't originate from the same world. If he hasn't learned forgiveness by now, he never will.

...Ah, he may as well take a seat while he waits. He fixes his eyes straight ahead, rather than looking at her.]

Most have faulted me for thinking the way I do.

[She sits down, too, across from him. Maybe because it may be the last time she can, in a house, like this. She's not sure, anymore.]

Forgiveness can be a very powerful thing. Sometimes, it makes a lot of difference, and sometimes, it's for some sort of piece of mind... But it's not something a person has to offer anyone. That's entirely up to them. It's the person who was hurt's right, and theirs alone.

[She leans back.]

You've had a hard life, I imagine. I can't fault you at all for how you feel.

...

[A pause.]

The... truth is, I also want to forgive as often as I can in the hopes that... the people from home may one day forgive me.

Edited 2012-01-25 07:40 (UTC)

[And just like that, she absolves him of everything. Her view of the world is completely different from his, but she doesn't deny that his is valid. She doesn't blame him for the weakness pooled in his heart. He had always thought that no one could possibly understand unless they had been through the same, but...

Now she's right in his line of vision, but he doesn't look away.]

...Forgive you of what? [this is part incredulity, part curiosity. The question is out before he can stop himself.]

[She clenches the sleeve of her kimono.]

Of forgetting them... even though they'd all been there for me. For not being able to save those precious memories, of my mother and father... of who may have been in my life... of my husband...

I hope that someday, I can earn forgiveness for that.

[She knows it was out of her control. But... But to forget people who have safeguarded you for so long... The man and woman who created her, or the man who helped bring Kaji into the world, or the sibling or uncle or aunt she never realized she had.

She wishes she could fix it all, even if wishing didn't mean much.]

[She laughs--the sheepish kind of laugh that feels unnatural, but can't be helped.]

But all that's sort of depressing, isn't it? I'll just have to see where life takes me when I return home someday, I suppose. Until then, I've been trying to keep my life here as good as I can make it...

And remember as many people as I can!

[Her husband. A spark of anger. She shouldn't have to seek forgiveness from someone who betrayed her, nor does such traitorous swine deserve forgiveness from her. ...He wonders if she would forgive even that, if she knew. Even she has to have her limits... He almost wants to tell her, but he knows he shouldn't.]

Humans have committed sins far worse than forgetting others. [Especially when she had no control over it. This is his own way of telling her that the people in her life, the ones who mattered, would surely forgive her.]

[She catches onto that fact quickly enough.]

... Thank you. For dealing with me and everything. [a laugh] I hope I didn't give you too much grief while you were here. I know it's a pretty... strange living environment.

[The sticky notes, they're a bit much, aren't they. `_`]

But I hope it's been an alright place for you to rest. Do you two need any help moving things over?

[It's like he suddenly realizes that this is a normal conversation, and he's having it with a human. Frightening and strange, how he can halfway forget in softly suspended moments. His deeply-ingrained doubts pull him back into his shell a little more; he can only go so far in one day. Back to simple answers, but his voice is softened.]

...Yes, it was alright. [If by that, they mean it was more than he could have ever imagined.]

We should be fine. [He didn't have too much here - clothes and things like that could be packed easily. And even without the use of his hands, he could carry a little on his shoulders.]

Good.

[She nods. This is good.]

Go ahead and help Martel-san, then, so we don't keep her waiting too long.

[He nods, thinking Martel should be just about done and ready to go. This is where he should start hoisting himself out of his seat, but he hesitates. Suddenly, he wonders when he will ever see Sayo again, once he walks out the door with his sister. For a fleeting moment of folded-up loneliness, he's struck with the clawing impulse to tell her about the anonymously written messages. Had she figured it out? Would she remember?

The fledgling words die in the back of his throat. He seals his mouth shut. He isn't ready to let her connect the pieces of himself that he's already shared.

He stands to go to his sister, walking down the hall to the room that had been his and leaving everything unfinished.]

Edited 2012-01-31 08:07 (UTC)

✘ appointments

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