damned_institute | Day 58: Cafeteria

Anise woke up feeling lucky to be alive. She still felt a bit waterlogged, even though her skin, hair, and clothes were completely dry. During last night's adventures, she'd swallowed a lot of water, and it still felt heavy and disgusting in her stomach. Her arms and legs were tired from treading water. Lying still in her bed, she still kind of felt like she was floating and bobbing in the water.

But she was alive.

Knowing how close she came to death last night, and remembering the lengths her friends had gone to in order to save her, there was no way Anise could let a little discomfort get her down. She had to be at her best today so she wouldn't seem ungrateful to Guy and Claude. On that note, she had to remember to thank them properly, now that she was better able to express herself.

While getting ready, Anise was surprised to actually run into Claude that morning. He came to her room asking for the notebook he stored there (or maybe it was an excuse to see her cute face again), so Anise happily located it and handed it over. She was pretty tired, but the big smile she gave him was genuine. Who wouldn't be happy to see her savior so soon after a dramatic rescue?

After he left, Anise finished re-tying her pigtails into a low position so the military beret would fit on her head, and then she was ready! Even though her stomach wasn't feeling that great, she figured sitting down to a decent meal would help normalize it. And luckily for her, she was among the few who had the privilege of eating such a meal. Anise filled a plate with french toast topped with syrup and fruit, accompanied by small portions of each of the available side dishes.

It looked like she was early, which meant there weren't a lot of people around. That was okay, though. Anise could get a good head start on her meal before any company came around. She sat down at a table by herself and started on her sausage first.

[for Tolten!]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

He was still laughing, but it wasn't out of mirth or amusement. This was the sort of laughter he heard from his mother sometimes, just before she threw a plate at him or grabbed him by the hair. It scared him worse than he'd ever been here. Monsters, fighting, experiments, these were things that could not be helped; it was instinct or human greed or other such logical things that could be organized into boxes and tucked away. A person like Misaki, however, could not be categorized or understood or even helped. And Ritsuka now feared that Albedo might be like her.

Still, he hovered and waited. Even as Albedo grew still and refused to talk, Ritsuka waited. It was just like with her... He could only wait for the attack that would come, stay still and bear it, then wait for her to leave because that was what she needed. Fighting back would only break her more than she was already broken.

"There's nothing wrong. You know... I won't hurt you. You know that, Ritsuka? Right?"

He smiled, but Ritsuka didn't smile back. Those words were echoes of the past washing back over him in waves of pain that cut deeper than any knife. But somewhere in him, there was relief, too. He recognized these words and so he knew how to deal with them. Slowly, he lowered his hands and tried to ease himself back into his chair - slow movements so as not to startle, smooth enough to look natural, well-practiced so he could run if something came at him.

"...I know, Albedo." I know, Mother. "I know you won't hurt me."

But....

"....Are you alright? I didn't mean to hurt you."

If Albedo's fracture had been from his own design, he would have noted Ritsuka's movements, noticed and took them as something despised. It reeked of caution, of fear, and he wanted nothing of it. Not from this one. But this break was not under Albedo's control. And despite himself, the even tones, the quiet and steady movements, worked near effortlessly. Albedo's gaze was allowed to slip from the other boy, reassured too easily by the other's apparent calm.

...And he should have seen through it. He should have noticed the minute--the spaces left between, but he did not. A wonderment in that. Possibly a repetition of habit despite everything he had gone through. If you didn't see the possibility of pain, of rejection, there stood a chance it did not exist in its entirety.

Still, though. Still, Rubedo had walked away.

"You didn't--" Hurt him? Had he been hurt? Albedo cocked his head at his hand, palming looking back at him. He poked the skin idly, but nothing happened. What had been that sensation? "It was nothing you did." The boy clenched his fingers then stretched them out and still nothing called as different. He frowned downward, then looked at Ritsuka curiously, eyes echoing a bit blank. Then held out his hand, as if repeating the conduct would end differently this time.

Two points, of course. The definition of insanity came with repetition, and expecting different outcomes to the same scenario. Yet, still, science hinged on that aspect--of experiments and testing, and holding firm data in multiples instead of a solitary insistence. He felt sick, completely, but nothing showed that. No. Nothing showed.

Ritsuka didn't understand how Albedo being hurt like that couldn't be anything but his fault. It had been after touching him that Albedo had reacted as if he'd been shot. The pain had been obvious, an instinctual reaction that anyone would have recognized. Ritsuka had experienced terrible pain before and he recognized the look of it on Albedo's face, no matter how brief it had been. And now? Now there was no trace of it. The lingering ache that should have existed seemed to be either missing or manageable and Ritsuka watched Albedo cautiously as he tested his hand.

And then he reached out to him again.

Ritsuka stared at Albedo's hand, knowing what he wanted and at the same time, knowing he could not consciously acquiesce. Even if it wasn't his fault before, he knew now. To reach out and touch Albedo again while knowing it could cause him pain would be the same as raining blows upon him. Ritsuka could not do that. He could never consciously harm someone, especially not a friend.

He shook his head then and lowered his eyes. "...If it hurt you again... I can't...I'm sorry."

There was silence, and hesitation, and still Albedo waited for the answer either way. There was infinite patience in one who had all of the time in all worlds, despite the impatience that flows like blood through him at other times. He waited, and stared, and Ritsuka looked away, spoke softly.

Albedo blinked. And then blinked again. And there was something of himself peeking upwards now, something that watched Ritsuka with wide eyes. It was care, in the end, that would always affect. Care and concern would trace more fiercely than he could say, when it came as real, actual, genuine. And here was the shock to the senses, like and unlike Nigredo in the solitary cell, stopping Albedo's hand from crushing his throat. "Do you really want to kill me? I'll let you." No, he wouldn't-- Not now, and not-- here.

He blinked again, and shook his head slightly, clearing the remnants from his mind. "Then don't," he said softly, firmly, as he drew his hand back. Albedo nodded once, keeping his eyes on the other boy. "We'll agree. To not hurt each other."

A promise he had only given to one other. But what other would act as Ritsuka did? Denying this for the simple fact of withholding so he wasn't in pain. It was so outrageous, so entirely unexpected. What was... What kind of person....

He couldn't even think. He found himself smiling softly, and his gaze flicked down.

"Then don't."

The resolution in Albedo's voice along with his words served to calm Ritsuka's nerves finally, helping him lift his eyes again to look at his friend. Not like Misaki. Albedo would never be like Misaki. Ritsuka loved her with all his heart, but he knew she didn't love him in the way a parent should. Her heart was broken and incapable of feeling normal parental love anymore. Now all that remained was possession, grief, fear, anger and loss, the mourning of a woman who had lost both her sons and the indignation upon seeing an imposter in his place. Albedo wouldn't be like her. He was an entirely different person. Ritsuka had to remember that.

It was easy, seeing how he smiled. Ritsuka watched him for a moment, wondering at how they had become such friends, but deciding the how didn't matter. They were friends now and they would stay that way as long as they could.

"Alright. Agreed," he said, letting himself smile a bit for Albedo, too. After a pause, he picked up his fork and motioned to Albedo's plate. "Now eat. That's our other promise and I won't let you forget that."

Day 58: Cafeteria

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject