She wished Black☆Star was there. Someone, someone who could stand by her side and tell her what was right in this situation. What the best thing to do was. But there was no guidance forthcoming; she was by herself, alone, and the only advice and encouragement she was going to get was from herself. Knowing as much made it all the more difficult to stay balanced on the tightrope she’d found herself on.
The waiting was, of course, the worst part. All the what ifs and the aborted thoughts. It was almost, almost easier when she looked up from her feet and saw him there, because that at least put an end to her doubts.
But that just left everything that came after the doubts: the shock, the hard beat of her heart, the flood of long-buried emotions.
Brother. You were the one who left.
Strangely enough, the first thought that came to her was that the tall, formidable man walking toward her looked… handsome. Handsome, of all things! The brother she’d encountered with Black☆Star hadn’t looked half so healthy or well-taken care of. That brother had been gaunt and sallow-skinned, hair dull, dirtied. Dark, in all the senses of the word. She’d admired him so much when he’d been a boy, but his adult self had been a far cry from that person she’d known. But this one looked… looked…
Restored. He looked restored.
Landel had shown her visions of her brother, had made shadows whisper about him, but this was by far the most uncanny incarnation. It took her breath to think that this was what Masamune could have looked like had he reached his full potential. She’d been too cowardly to look long at the photos in her photo album, and she felt a twinge of regret at that now. He was so… like Masamune. It hurt. But still, she didn’t blink, didn’t so much as swallow.
The feelings the sight of him brought on seemed to freeze her in place, at least until he stopped. Then Tsubaki turned to face him; this was the instinctive thing to do, the polite thing to do. Propriety even in the face of disaster--that was what she was good at. The little sister he’d hated so much for so long. But the way he spoke to her held no hint of that past, was instead closer to what he’d been like at the end. His tone was perhaps the most alien part of it all.
She didn’t know how to respond. She’d forgotten the appropriate way to address people like him. "… Brother."
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The waiting was, of course, the worst part. All the what ifs and the aborted thoughts. It was almost, almost easier when she looked up from her feet and saw him there, because that at least put an end to her doubts.
But that just left everything that came after the doubts: the shock, the hard beat of her heart, the flood of long-buried emotions.
Brother. You were the one who left.
Strangely enough, the first thought that came to her was that the tall, formidable man walking toward her looked… handsome. Handsome, of all things! The brother she’d encountered with Black☆Star hadn’t looked half so healthy or well-taken care of. That brother had been gaunt and sallow-skinned, hair dull, dirtied. Dark, in all the senses of the word. She’d admired him so much when he’d been a boy, but his adult self had been a far cry from that person she’d known. But this one looked… looked…
Restored. He looked restored.
Landel had shown her visions of her brother, had made shadows whisper about him, but this was by far the most uncanny incarnation. It took her breath to think that this was what Masamune could have looked like had he reached his full potential. She’d been too cowardly to look long at the photos in her photo album, and she felt a twinge of regret at that now. He was so… like Masamune. It hurt. But still, she didn’t blink, didn’t so much as swallow.
The feelings the sight of him brought on seemed to freeze her in place, at least until he stopped. Then Tsubaki turned to face him; this was the instinctive thing to do, the polite thing to do. Propriety even in the face of disaster--that was what she was good at. The little sister he’d hated so much for so long. But the way he spoke to her held no hint of that past, was instead closer to what he’d been like at the end. His tone was perhaps the most alien part of it all.
She didn’t know how to respond. She’d forgotten the appropriate way to address people like him. "… Brother."