tea_rs | IC Contact;

[After, Kevin gets them home as fast as he can. He'd like to hop up to the rooftops and run, cut the distance into a mere fraction of what it currently is, but his feelings are far too unstable just now -- the last thing anyone needs is for a stray bit of temper to cause a spark to catch atop some building and set the whole thing ablaze, it's not worth the risk. He keeps to the alleys instead, shortcuts where there won't be many people, no crowds, no noise. His pace is a little awkward, as fast as he can go without breaking into a jog and jostling Hibiki, and all the way home, he kicks himself.

He should have anticipated something like this. He'd known, vaguely, that Pride would ultimately be rehabilitated; he should have made the connection that he'd be back in town, that this could happen. If only he'd realized sooner. If only he'd checked the records to find where Pride would be and when, and told Hibiki where she should not be. If she'd had even a warning, it would have helped, because it's helped Kevin to know what's coming, what to avoid, what to watch out for, because the truth of the matter is that they're just alike this way and so he should have known and should have thought and should have given her that same help because she doesn't know to seek it out for herself and if, if, if --

Kevin's never had a problem thinking of himself as "broken". But, seeing Hibiki want so badly to move on with her life, he hasn't had the heart to allow that word to stick to her. One of these two ways of thinking, perhaps, was a mistake.

Just now, Kevin's not sure which.

He has just enough presence of mind to get in touch with the others and "suggest" that they be elsewhere for a while. By the time they reach the house, he's calmed enough that he deems it safe to go inside, at least. His rage at Pride and the situation at large has turned itself inward, and that, in Kevin's experience, usually doesn't hurt his surroundings much. Still holding Hibiki, he unlocks the door and lets himself in, and the house is calm and quiet but for the idle clucking of the chickens and the stirring of the occasional squirrel. Kevin unfastens his sword from his belt as he enters the parlor. But he doesn't bother with anything else as he sinks down onto the chaise with a sigh, still holding the girl close. It doesn't really occur to him to try and put her down and move away.]

[At some point along the way, a soft curl of fur nestles up against her chin, about the only comfort Shirotsuki can provide at times like these when the enemy isn't one so easily defeated as a troublemaking teen, when the consequence for failure was only exacerbating his apprentice's fear, her sorrows.

Between this and the time it takes to return, she's out of tears when they finally arrive. All she can do anymore is wearily cling, even as they sit on the chaise where they are safe, far from Pride, far from anything that might want to hurt her.

It takes a while, before she can summon up the words. Even though they're so simple, so soft, her voice still cracks.]

I'm so-- s-sorry...

[He was so angry, and she... She doesn't know what she should have done. But there's something, she's sure of it, there always is, but she never, ever can figure it out, and this is why all she could do was collapse, why all she could do was cry.

If she were stronger, maybe... If she were anyone other than herself, maybe...

Maybe things would have turned out differently.]

[Kevin is still angry. That's the one problem with letting her cling to him; she can probably tell that he isn't calming down any more than he already has. The tension in his body isn't easing up in the slightest, and from time to time as they sit there, he stars to bounce his leg, catches himself and stops. He'll need to get Bulat to help him later on. The new knots knitting themselves into his back won't come out with stretches alone.

But that's not Hibiki's fault. It's not as though she asked for what Pride did to her. Either time. It isn't a surprise to hear her, but she isn't the reason he's seething, not really.

He's silent for a long while, even after she apologizes. It's an unpleasantly heavy quiet, despite his best efforts. But when he finally speaks, his voice, at least, has lost the sharp edge it had taken on before.]

Do you remember...when I told you that it's okay to cry? That, sometimes, the rest of us in the house -- we do it too?

[The silence is scary.

She can't tell how he's about to react, too scared to dare peek and find out. Instead, she waits, heart heavy with fear until he speaks.

Her body goes stiff at first, clearly expecting some kind of reprimand. It takes her a full moment to realize one isn't forthcoming, and another before she finally nods into his shoulder, not yet trusting her voice.

Yes... She remembers. Back when she couldn't even brew tea properly anymore, when she was terrified of everyone, regardless of how they had treated her in the past.

Although it was only a few months ago, it had finally begun to feel distant...]

[He's quiet again for a short while, collecting himself. He fills the time by reaching carefully into one of the pockets inside his vest and pulling out a handkerchief, working around her in order to get it.]

You listen to me, Miss Hibiki. I don't know what it's called, I don't -- know if there's a word for it. But when someone has gone through something terrible, something that scared them very much...when that person encounters something that reminds them of that terrible thing...

[He nudges at her, encouraging her to lift her face so he can wipe the tears away.]

After I hurt Mister Bulat during the possessions, for a little while, being around me made him nervous. Although he knew I would never want to hurt him, his heart remembered that someone who looked like me did, once. That's why I gave him an unbirthday, to help him forget. [Kevin's voice is soft, almost emotionless, because of his effort to keep it under control.] Once, I saw a man I admired for being calm and strong run out of a room entirely, because he was thinking of something awful that had happened and he needed to be alone to calm down.

And me...when the Memory Tree first appeared, it showed me the time when my eye was taken from me. Back then, I was so frightened that a friend had to come and sing to me to help me remember that I wasn't back in that place all over again.

Edited (picky dialogue wording moment, don't mind me) 2016-07-26 16:24 (UTC)

[The nudge is enough to get her to look up-- red eyes, tear-stained face and all. There's the sniffles and the hiccups, the little sounds she can't help, not after she's been crying for so long, though they do sound somewhat muted.

She does her best to focus on his words in spite of it all, even though she still shakes, still clings tight. As Kevin tells of the others, of himself...

Her heart begins to hurt, not from fear, but from grief.]

D-do you still...

[It's a struggle, getting the words out. Tears always take their toll, and her emotions aren't helping.]

Do you... still get scared...?

[Even if it's okay to cry... She can't just keep being afraid forever. But at the same time...

What could possibly be done...?]

...rarely.

[He wipes at her face carefully, soaking the handkerchief through.]

When I came to this place, I was in such a bad state that -- the very first night I was here, I found myself a little shed to sleep in. And I woke up from a nightmare so terrified that I brought the whole thing down on my own head. [She's probably seen him shatter a teacup once or twice by now, or at least heard that his habit of breaking things is why the dishes are all mismatched. Now she has context.] Because of that, I slept out on the streets for months. Eventually, I found the greenhouse and slept there instead, because it had been neglected for so long that no one would mind if I broke it, and it was getting cold. It was six months before I came into the house. But now, I can sit here with you like this. We all have breakfast together every morning and I stay inside at night, and...

[Kevin trails off, aware that he's rambling, and none of that's really the point. His voice grows a little more firm, but his own eye starts to go red and wet.]

Because it took me so long, when Miss Hibiki first came here, I thought it'd take her at least that much time to feel better, too. Instead, you, you wanted to come outside with me in a matter of weeks. [He can't tell her it's okay because he doesn't have the heart to lie to her. He can't hate himself for being like this and bring himself to tell Hibiki she shouldn't be upset at herself, but he drops the handkerchief in favor of cupping her face in both hands, keeping her looking at him.] Maybe it's a weak thing, to be like this. But Miss Hibiki, even if something like this happens, please don't ever forget that you're even stronger than I am, okay...?

[She sits very still as he dabs at her face with the handkerchief, as he reaches out to keep her gaze on him, sniffling her way through hiccups as she tries to concentrate on his words. And the more she listens...

The more the air itself begins to feel watery.

She wants to protest his words. She's not strong - she can't be, she's just... her. Just Hibiki, a little girl who can't even defend herself. Kevin's different. He's strong, he always knows the answers, they can't really be...

Even if they both hid themselves away...

Even if they both hurt so badly before...

She doesn't give a verbal answer right away. Instead, she carefully shifts away from his hands so that she can hug him instead, latching on tightly.

Grief at her own weakness. Grief that Kevin, too, had to endure the same. Both wanting permission to borrow some of that strength, and to provide what little she can offer, too... There's too many feelings, and there's no way she's coherent enough to explain it.

So instead, she holds tight, the tears flowing anew, only able to hope that at least a little of it can get through.]

[Kevin hugs her back, silently. He'd genuinely thought they were out of the worst, but -- no, this is just as bad as it was in the very beginning of Hibiki's stay here. Back then, Kevin had felt helpless, too, wishing with all his heart that things could be simple, that the knight could simply slay the dragon that was scaring the princess and then they'd all go about their business.

Edea had chastised him when he'd admitted it. It's a selfish thing, to be absorbed in his own worries when he's not at all the victim here, and Kevin remembers that too. His duty in all this is to stand in support in whatever way he can and that's that. But sitting here now, while his own shadows exacerbate Hibiki's sadness and slowly fill the parlor with a gray, misty fog, Kevin thinks that maybe being satisfied with how things have gone until now is really just as selfish.

He's done well enough for himself floundering through his own feelings and letting the people who've come to love him shove him along. Was it wrong of him to think the same would suffice for a child? Is there more he could be doing to help her?

How the hell is he going to find out?]

[It's another while before she calms again, back to the sniffles and hiccups from before. But she's frantic to speak again, because there's things she needs to say, and even if it's weak of her to cry so much, she doesn't want those tears to stifle her words.

They've done that far too often as it is.]

I-I...

I hid too. I-in the shed, and then my Master f-found me, and--

[The words are a wobbly mess, coming out in little burst between the stutters.]

I-I got better 'cause... 'cause he helped me. I-if he wasn't there... i-if you hadn't helped me...

[That's why she could go out again. That's why she could trust people again.

Because they were there.]

...that's how it goes, isn't it? [He tries to smile for her, but it comes out strained.] I had...Mister Bulat, telling me he wouldn't give up on me. Miss Edea would come and find me and ask me things, even though I -- I never used to talk much, at home. Oz, too. When I would have stayed inside, he always found a way to get me to come out and have adventures.

[Brat. Kevin's still not sure how he got away with half of that.]

I could help you because they helped me. And now, you and I -- we can help each other, right...?

[He might be overdoing it a little with all these examples, all this talk, but...Kevin isn't sure what else to say. He does give the gusk still clinging to Hibiki's shoulder a grateful look, though. There's not much the man can do as a squirrel, but Kevin's doing his best to stand in, and it's sort of nice to know the gusk will bite him or something if he really screws up.]

Edited 2016-08-02 01:09 (UTC)

[Bite him, or cause him other small inconveniences, possibly thanks to some very tiny little circles scrawled with a claw. But really, Kevin's doing a fine enough job as far as Shirotsuki's concerned - it isn't as though he necessarily knew what he was doing when it came to Hibiki's care, either.

He shifts a little as Hibiki hugs tighter, now more on her shoulder than by her chin, though he continues to remain leaned up against her all throughout. If a presence is all he can offer right now, then so be it.]

I-- I want to help.

[Her voice is still quiet, muffled. But now it's more because she's clinging so tightly to Kevin than anything else.]

b-but right now... I can't...

I can't do anything.

However, when I was so sad I didn't want to get up off the chaise for a week, you helped then. You brought me things, and kept me company.

[Back then, they'd called it exhaustion, and Kevin was exhausted, but -- the truth of the matter is that exhaustion alone is not enough to get this man to sit down and rest when he needs to. He's got to be literally unconscious before he'll accept it. If they're going to be honest about these things now, there's no further need to shelter Hibiki from that truth.]

That was...

[...But the words trail off almost immediately. Because they've had this talk before, and because maybe, just maybe, all those discussions are finally making her think twice about her knee-jerk reaction to hearing such things.]

...

I want... to be more like you. I want to be able to do things without... without getting scared again.

[Ouch.

They may be getting through to Hibiki at last, but Kevin is still struggling with precisely this, his habit of blaming himself exacerbated by the determination that he shouldn't see himself as good and strong, that it's not allowed. Even now, he's trying to claw at himself. She shouldn't want to be like him. He's useless when he shouldn't be. If he'd gotten there a minute sooner, if he'd kept up with the case, the schedule, here it all comes again and he winces, over her head where she can't see it.]

...I'll find a way. [The words come out before he can think better of them.] It may be that -- all we can do is give you time and peace. That's how it happened with me. But if there's a better way to overcome such things, I'll find it.

[The one thing Kevin has to hold on to in the midst of all this is that the last time he had a sad little girl clinging to him, he marched into hell and rewrote time. It ended badly but it was hard as hell, should have been impossible, and he did it. If he can believe in one impossible thing enough to make it happen, surely, surely...]

[She doesn't even know if it's possible. She's so weak, always has been, really. It seems so far beyond her reach...

But it's also Kevin. Kevin, who's gotten her this far already, who's supported her all this time. Kevin, who doesn't just tell her blindly that everything will be okay, but suggests the things that will help make it okay.

Maybe it's true. Maybe there won't be an easy fix, maybe the only option will be to quietly heal instead. But she trusts him and his word, and she knows that if he does find anything, he'll be there to help her yet again.

Bur for now... peace sounds good. The crying and the emotions have left her all worn out, and after a quick nod, she actually slumps a little, still holding on, but not nearly as tightly.

She wants to sleep... But she doesn't want to let go, either. Hopefully he won't mind it too terribly...]

[Equally disinclined to move, Kevin just sits quietly, his thumb absently rubbing against her Hibiki's shoulder from time to time. The tension is easing now, and it helps somewhat simply to acknowledge it as it happens. There was a scare. The scare is over. They're home. It's alright, even if the parlor is a little more humid than is truly comfortable.

Eventually, Kevin will realize she's asleep, and when he feels alright letting her out of his sight he'll tuck her into bed. When he does, it'll be with renewed determination. He's pulling strings in a situation that's much bigger than he is, yes, but didn't he agree to that months ago, when he took her in? Isn't Xerxes Break going to manage something like that, too, one of the few adults pushing his young people forward? He can help her. He has to. When he thinks of it in terms of having no choice but to succeed if this little girl is going to have the life she wants, it's all really very simple.

For now, he'll quietly ignore just where this way of thinking took him the last time he was holding a scared little girl. He'll do better, this time.]

IC Contact;

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject