[there's a pause, and then. . . he continues forward until he's at her side, crouched in the dirt, hand extended but not yet reaching out to touch her]
[Give her another minute because wow she still isn't responding look at that.
Now that he's closer, it's obvious to see there's tears streaming down her face as she chokes, her hands curled up tight against her face. But her eyes are dull from behind her fingers, an almost tinny quality that hurts the ears whenever her breath catches, like the scrape of a nail echoing through a can.]
[he hears those noises, he recalls the questions others had during the trial when they had checked people's mouths, but. . . none of that is important right now. the only thing that is important is that his friend is mourning, and he feels like crying a little himself just by watching her]
[his hand comes to rest against her upper arm gently. the touch is light enough that she could shrug him off if she wanted to]
There's an acknowledgement, a shift in her breathing, the slight tilt of her head, to let him know that she feels that touch.
But the tears don't stop. They don't stop, and she's practically doubled over on herself, to the point when she finally opens her mouth to speak, it's as if she might have lost her voice.
She doesn't dare look up. With a swallow, she chokes, tries to catch her breath...
...]
A-Aķ̵͇͎͕̘͎̠̟͚̯͕͒̊̉͠ͅi̸̇͛̎͘͠ra...
[It's barely a whisper, rough and stuttering and heartbroken, the noise cracking like a record skipping off the track.]
[with that permission, he rocks forward to wrap his arms tightly around her shoulders. it's a bit of an awkward hug, what with the angle being what it is, but he leans into it nevertheless, clinging to her as tightly as he can]
I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry.
[another squeeze, and the way her voice cracks and skips is very telling but also doesn't matter, because regardless of what Luna might be she is still Luna and the details of her existence are so unimportant when she's still and always will be Luna]
I'm so sorry. I wish I could have. . . I wish--
[he wishes he wouldn't have slept for eight hours. he wishes he had been able to find the real person responsible. he wishes. . .]
[he wishes Asch hadn't taken the fall, and that there was some way to make things better]
[He hugs her, the warmth of his body against her back, and somehow it just makes everything hurt worse. But she leans back into the awkward embrace, letting her body language crumple as she tries to take back control of her voice.]
I c... I c̷̦̣̞̀̑͐an't see more people die, Akira... I-I don't know what to do... I... [Another sharp intake of breath.]
[She just shakes her head, back and forth and back again, pressing her arms tight to her chest and gripping at her clothes.
Guess we're gonna sit here and CRY and be a stuttering mess between the two of us for another couple minutes.
...
Eventually, her volume will lower, her crying reduced to the shuddering in and out of her breath. Only then will she try to turn her weight to face Akira properly.
[he shifts to hug her properly when she turns into him, hand running up and down her back in what he hopes are soothing gestures. he feels like he has so much to say and yet nothing to say at all, and the awkward jumble of words and not-words renders him silent]
[he won't pull away, won't speak, won't do anything but crouch here and cling until Luna is finished letting it all out]
[It takes a couple minutes. At one point, Akira might swear she's gone limp under his hands, her breathing shuddering to a halt with her body just complete dead weight for just a few seconds. But she'll start violently as though she's trying to keep herself awake, shaking her head and pressing a hand to her eyes.
At least now, her voice is back its normal self.]
I-I'm so sorry. You shouldn't have had to see me like this...
[for the brief moment she goes limp in his arms, Akira feels his heart rate spike with panic. but she's moving again seconds later, and he exhales a deep breath of relief as his grip on her tightens]
What? No, no. Luna, it's okay.
If you need to let it out. . . then you need to let it out.
Don't hold back because you think yourself a burden.
N-no... no, it's not that. Please don't misunderstand.
I...
...
I wish I could explain in a way that made sense. I... everything. This place, the trials, everything that's happened with Asch, and now this, I...
[She doesn't know what to do. She's never, ever been so overwhelmed with choices that are impossible to make, and she feels parts of her just barely straining to hold themselves together.]
[a few blinks, and Akira pulls away, hands still resting on Luna's shoulders as he stares at her like he has no idea what she means]
[(because he doesn't)]
Punishment?
[the word is uttered equal parts bewildered and aghast, as though the idea of this entire experience being a punishment for some perceived sin is offensive in and of itself]
[he practically hisses the word between clenched teeth, his gaze narrowing. that sure does hit on a bunch of his buttons about loss of agency and freedom]
Disobedience. . . from who? You're not being punished, Luna. You don't deserve this. . .!
[She takes in another breath, fully expecting him to argue back. But there's a sudden stillness to her voice, as though something has internally switched to match his flare of temper.]
Do you remember what my profile said, out in the ballroom?
[he feels his gut boiling, anger running through his veins like fire. he wants to scream and yell and shake her until she understands-- you don't deserve this. he wants to yank out the heart of whoever made her believe that she does. . . tear them down into pieces, and step on each shard with his heel as he grinds them into the ground]
Does it matter? Those profiles exist to make fun of us. To paint us in the worst light possible, without any regard for who we really are.
. . . I don't care who you disobeyed. I don't care what they might think about what you deserve. I don't-- [a shaky breath, and he just. . . comes out and says it, without even really knowing the full meaning of his words]
I don't care if you're not even human, Luna.
[that's what everything has been pointing to, right? the oddities with her mouth, the strange noises she makes, the way her voice skips and jumps and cracks. he doesn't know what she might be, but he thinks. . . he suspects. . . that she has never been human at all]
[There's an emotional break, a twisting inside her that hurts. But it's as she suspected. Either he doesn't understand... or he refuses to understand.
That stillness in her voice goes even further, a sharp and almost horrific contrast to how she had been minutes ago, almost a mockery of how her face is still stained with the wet trail of tears.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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[there's a pause, and then. . . he continues forward until he's at her side, crouched in the dirt, hand extended but not yet reaching out to touch her]
Luna. . .
[he whispers her name quietly, but still audibly]
. . . I'm so sorry.
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Now that he's closer, it's obvious to see there's tears streaming down her face as she chokes, her hands curled up tight against her face. But her eyes are dull from behind her fingers, an almost tinny quality that hurts the ears whenever her breath catches, like the scrape of a nail echoing through a can.]
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[his hand comes to rest against her upper arm gently. the touch is light enough that she could shrug him off if she wanted to]
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There's an acknowledgement, a shift in her breathing, the slight tilt of her head, to let him know that she feels that touch.
But the tears don't stop. They don't stop, and she's practically doubled over on herself, to the point when she finally opens her mouth to speak, it's as if she might have lost her voice.
She doesn't dare look up. With a swallow, she chokes, tries to catch her breath...
...]
A-Aķ̵͇͎͕̘͎̠̟͚̯͕͒̊̉͠ͅi̸̇͛̎͘͠ra...
[It's barely a whisper, rough and stuttering and heartbroken, the noise cracking like a record skipping off the track.]
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[with that permission, he rocks forward to wrap his arms tightly around her shoulders. it's a bit of an awkward hug, what with the angle being what it is, but he leans into it nevertheless, clinging to her as tightly as he can]
I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry.
[another squeeze, and the way her voice cracks and skips is very telling but also doesn't matter, because regardless of what Luna might be she is still Luna and the details of her existence are so unimportant when she's still and always will be Luna]
I'm so sorry. I wish I could have. . . I wish--
[he wishes he wouldn't have slept for eight hours. he wishes he had been able to find the real person responsible. he wishes. . .]
[he wishes Asch hadn't taken the fall, and that there was some way to make things better]
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I c... I c̷̦̣̞̀̑͐an't see more people die, Akira... I-I don't know what to do... I... [Another sharp intake of breath.]
He's j-j̵̦̣̈ủ̷̬͉̳̠̙̜͋̅̈̉st a child...
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[regardless of what he might have asked for, he didn't deserve it. not one bit. not at all. it wasn't fair, it wasn't right]
Nobody does. We should have-- I should have. . .
[done better?]
[was there anything they could have done better. . .?]
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Guess we're gonna sit here and CRY and be a stuttering mess between the two of us for another couple minutes.
...
Eventually, her volume will lower, her crying reduced to the shuddering in and out of her breath. Only then will she try to turn her weight to face Akira properly.
Hi, can she have a proper hug.... :(]
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[he shifts to hug her properly when she turns into him, hand running up and down her back in what he hopes are soothing gestures. he feels like he has so much to say and yet nothing to say at all, and the awkward jumble of words and not-words renders him silent]
[he won't pull away, won't speak, won't do anything but crouch here and cling until Luna is finished letting it all out]
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At least now, her voice is back its normal self.]
I-I'm so sorry. You shouldn't have had to see me like this...
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What? No, no. Luna, it's okay.
If you need to let it out. . . then you need to let it out.
Don't hold back because you think yourself a burden.
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N-no... no, it's not that. Please don't misunderstand.
I...
...
I wish I could explain in a way that made sense. I... everything. This place, the trials, everything that's happened with Asch, and now this, I...
[She doesn't know what to do. She's never, ever been so overwhelmed with choices that are impossible to make, and she feels parts of her just barely straining to hold themselves together.]
I-is this a punishment, Akira?
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[(because he doesn't)]
Punishment?
[the word is uttered equal parts bewildered and aghast, as though the idea of this entire experience being a punishment for some perceived sin is offensive in and of itself]
Punishment for what?
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[She can still hear the words echoing in the back of her head, like the striking of a gavel.
"Luna. I am giving you an order. I am in command, and you do as I say."]
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No.
[he practically hisses the word between clenched teeth, his gaze narrowing. that sure does hit on a bunch of his buttons about loss of agency and freedom]
Disobedience. . . from who? You're not being punished, Luna. You don't deserve this. . .!
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[She takes in another breath, fully expecting him to argue back. But there's a sudden stillness to her voice, as though something has internally switched to match his flare of temper.]
Do you remember what my profile said, out in the ballroom?
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Does it matter? Those profiles exist to make fun of us. To paint us in the worst light possible, without any regard for who we really are.
. . . I don't care who you disobeyed. I don't care what they might think about what you deserve. I don't-- [a shaky breath, and he just. . . comes out and says it, without even really knowing the full meaning of his words]
I don't care if you're not even human, Luna.
[that's what everything has been pointing to, right? the oddities with her mouth, the strange noises she makes, the way her voice skips and jumps and cracks. he doesn't know what she might be, but he thinks. . . he suspects. . . that she has never been human at all]
You don't deserve this.
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[There's an emotional break, a twisting inside her that hurts. But it's as she suspected. Either he doesn't understand... or he refuses to understand.
That stillness in her voice goes even further, a sharp and almost horrific contrast to how she had been minutes ago, almost a mockery of how her face is still stained with the wet trail of tears.]
I'm going to ask you this again.
Do you remember what my profile said?
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I do.
. . . it was a story. A story about a boy and a bird.
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What else did it say?
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I mentioned you were a medical professional. . . a caretaker, a participant, a guilty party.
[MAKES A FACE]
It said you were good with numbers, and that you told jokes that people didn't hear.
Why. . .?
[why is any of this important]
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There is a reason it said I was a guilty party, Akira.
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[but rather, a truth that is given out of context. but even so. . . he'll keep listening]
Why did it call you a guilty party?
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Do you remember when we spoke last week in writing, underneath the doors?
"This isn't the first time I've had to be in a situation like this." That's what I had told you, correct?
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[despite the implications of that question, Akira doesn't draw back]
Yes. That's what you told me.
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YOU BETTER NOT JINX THIS BC IF HE DIES NOW WOW BOY BAD BAD BAD BAD
B)