synflux | ( closed ) i don't want to be pitied,

( his lip curls in amusement for the first time, ever so slightly. )

Stubborn, eh? I can see that.

( but it's what comes after that cuts crisp through the tipsy need to chuckle at the characteristics strangers to him have assigned to her, that has him hesitate and grip the railing even harder than before, her hair blurring in his vision to become one with the cloud of petals behind her. there's the pin-sharp feeling of anger, and as his hackles raise at her words, brows furrowed and jaw set, it's easy to see the barest hint of a fang in his mouth. )

Prove yourself? No one asked ya to do that. Does it LOOK like I'm... I'm askin' you to be better just to stand at my side? If anything, you did... did fine on that mission, so don't lemme hear that... shit outta your mouth again.

( it feels like an accusation, a one where izou isn't sure in the first place what a "friend" would mean to him anyhow, besides... someone who won't betray him, maybe. someone he'd be comfortable to be around, where it's easier to believe a person like that just doesn't exist. )

You should just, do what you want. Like you've been doin'. If hanging out with a guy who's too much trouble...

(—is what you want to do, then who am i to stop you?

he's the problem here. the one who can't accept a hand outstretched to him, so why's she got to belittle herself like that?

it doesn't make sense. )

Edited 2024-03-16 18:21 (UTC)

[ That note of anger is unmistakable, surprising her enough to blink a few more times than usual. And maybe she'd expected him to be more mad about her continuous attempts, but-- ]

That's what you're mad about??

[ That she was potentially putting herself down?? Which, fair, she doesn't exactly like to say when she might be wrong or that she's not good enough for something, but that's usually to her own frustration and not anybody else's. That he's being so belligerent for her own sake isn't something she thinks she could ever overlook.

It's... almost a relief, though. Instead of another round of "it's for your own good, I know what's best for you", something she's grown to hate even more after encountering that messenger in her memories, he's telling her to just do what she wants. Even at his own detriment.

March can't help a laugh, the surprise lending a hint of breathlessness to it. ]

You've got a long way to go if you think you're going to be more trouble than getting my memories back will be. [ And maybe that's where the stubbornness comes into play. ]

But I do want to keep hanging out with you. And talking to you. I want to get to know you, Izou.

So brace yourself, okay? I'm pretty hard to lose.

( brace yourself, she says, eyes sparkling and full of promise. it's here where he unclenches a hand briefly from the railing, growing too weary in the face of her determination to be riled up further. in fact, he's at a loss of words, and it's wordlessly that he stares back as the weight of possibly being known starts to unknot in his chest.

"i want to get to know you."

how can she say something like that with a straight face?

the honesty is reminiscent of his master and her head-strong presence, her resolve to flourish despite the upending obstacles. )

I...

( his scoff is a little softer now, his grumbling a little distant. there's an itch between his ribs and a redness to the flush in his cheeks that wasn't there before when he says, under his breath: )

How'm I 'sposed to respond to that...

( there's a shiver up his spine, thinking it's all a little weird that he should feel shy about this when they barely know each other, the memory of that photograph tugging tight against what little control he has left over his currently weak brain-to-mouth filter. )

Whatever. Just. Don't be surprised, when I let... let ya down.

( his throat is still warm with the taste of tonight's drink, and now it's warm with... something else, as if a man like himself should feel nervous around a woman in the heart of the city. shit. hold it together. then, as if to prove to himself that he isn't boneless and weak in the face of her words, or if pushed by the uninhibited part of his mind that keeps swerving between tense and relaxed, izou reaches out with a curled finger to brush a stray petal off her bang. )

You were, takin' photographs of the spectacle. Never seen somethin' like this before?

[ He's accepting it. He's accepting it?? It's more like he's given up on protesting and maybe that's not the ideal reaction she'd want from someone she's extending friendship to, but it's still a victory that feels warm in her chest. He's accepted it, which means she can call him a friend now with full confidence.

Even though he looks embarrassed, which is oddly cute. Maybe because everyone on the Astral Express is either too dignified, too composed, or too weird to be flustered.

She isn't too fond of him putting himself down, phrasing it like it's an inevitability, though. ]

I don't think you're--

[ Except the words kind of die in her throat as though she'd gone and choked on them, a thin little noise when his hand comes forward and she's not sure what to expect, but it's not the very lightest of pressures against her bangs, followed by the sight of a petal fluttering harmlessly to the ground.

It isn't as though she isn't used to proximity. But usually, she's the one reaching out, establishing that contact. Even Argenti striding towards her gallantly to talk about her beauty, flower in winter, etc. was startling rather than anything else. But right now, she's completely caught off-guard by this growly grump of a guy just clearing her hair of flowers and she hasn't been drinking; there's no real excuse for the sudden flush that puts her face a shade closer to her hair. ]

J-just try me!

[ She blurts it out, almost defiantly, before her gaze flicks down to the camera. A nice, safe subject. Whew. ]

But--yeah, not like this! The sight, I mean. The way the petals are fluttering all over the place and just taking the time to stop and watch them and make a whole outing out of it... I really like the idea of it, you know?

But you're from Japan, right? So maybe it's not all that exciting to you?

( huh. that's new.

a strange satisfaction unfurls in him at getting a reaction out of her if only just briefly, though he isn't entirely in touch with following up on it what with his thoughts being so muddled at the moment. the cotton-candy colored blossoms and the pink on her cheeks, terrific and gentle all at once—he takes in the sight of it quietly at first, a honed talent to observe the quirks of others in order to determine best how to tail and kill them quickly being what prompts him to do so.

but he isn't here to kill her, and if anything, the thought of it...

—nevermind. he extinguishes the flame of that complicated candle quickly enough. best not to think on anything complicated while he can barely think, opting to rest his chin slopping on a hand as she begins to fiddle with her camera. )

Yeah. Can't say I ever had the time or the... the need to take it in this deeply before, but. Now. Maybe it's just an overwhelmin' sight to behold, given most of the, the country's gone to shit. That something this appealing can still survive in a world that's tryin' to forsake it.

( in a kinder world... a kinder passage of time, the people here wouldn't have to worry about such a simple tradition being lost to them, and izou lets his opinion on the matter run free before his mind can catch up and consider that it's probably a silly sentiment when coming out of his mouth. )

[ It feels like he's analyzing far too much about her in that moment and March releases a very quiet breath when that pressure diminishes slightly. She knows what she'd like people to see, when they look at her, but there's no guaranteeing what they actually find. Himeko's gaze had been thoughtful, sometimes.

But Izou brings up a valid point, one that strikes her as strangely poignant. Something beautiful in a world that was pretty much dead in so many ways...

And she can remember, the tearful laughter in Natasha's voice when she'd told Hook that it wasn't the ceiling of the underworld in Belobog, but the sky. ]

I'm glad... that there are still things like that here. Kind of makes me want to be someone who can be that kind of resilient too, no matter what life throws at me.

[ One finger lightly taps against the camera before she finally stops fidgeting with it. ]

I didn't even think about it until now, but this is your country... have you been okay, seeing it like this?

Haven't given it much thought yet. But it don't really matter much, what with me—

( —being dead and all, or very much alive, in this moment and the moments since LILITH had pulled him away from his original resurrection in an organization far from here. there's no telling if any of this will stick with him or whether or not they'll pull the plug on him being able to live out the rest of his days as a living, breathing person, and while he hadn't given it any deep thought until now, izou still manages to stop himself from blurting out the fact that he's long expired.

less for himself, really, and it's then when a realization spikes him straight in the skull despite his drunken state:

that he's losing, gradually, to the wave of her care against his attempt at an uncaring facade.

telling her that he's a dead guy... when she's trying to build lasting memories or whatever, is just going to bring down the mood. best not to mention it.

his free hand itches, desperate to down the rest of that bottle about now. )

... with me, bein'... with our bein' tugged around on, LILITH's leash to salvage it all. Still, there's prob'ly plenty of... of other timelines where everything's in place and the sky looks clear, so I'm not all that worried.

[ Funny, something felt... off about that. Maybe? Maybe she's imagining it. He's drunk, after all. He's probably having a hard time putting his words together in a way she understands.

March listens, regardless, one hand drifting up aimlessly to rub at her temple. There's a slight ache there... Maybe she was focusing on the pictures a little too enthusiastically. ]

I hope that's the case, then. I'm not an expert on timelines or anything, and it's sad that this one's really went through it, but...

[ She shrugs, lightly. ]

This is the timeline I met you, so I don't think it's as terrible as it could be.

( GIRL STOP...

SAYING STUFF LIKE THAT!!!

he's gonna have to grip that railing again, because a sweet statement like that just about makes his head reel. the urge to flee this situation has never been so strong, but the prospect of tripping and eating dirt after the fight-or-flight rush of adrenaline doesn't sound so hot right about now.

more importantly... )

You... You really oughta think before you...

( actually, maybe he is starting to feel sick. )

Shouldn't you be, headin' on home? Before it's too late.

That didn't sound ominous at all.

[ A little dryly, even though she's pretty sure he just meant the time. ]

But I'll head back when you go. There'd be no point in going back on my own.

[ Since she followed him out here in the first place, probably to his chagrin. But she'd feel bad leaving him here by himself, especially when he's drunk. What kind of a friend would she be then? ]

( fine. his brow furrows. if that's what it's going to take to get out of this situation— )

Then I'm goin' home, and you're comin'... with me.

( if it can be called home, those cold hallways and colder rooms.

here's where he reaches out in an attempt to grab her by the wrist, with nary a thought as to whether that grab should be gentle, not only just to steer her up the ramp that leads down the the riverbank and away, but also to steady himself as it's become increasingly difficult to command his feet to take the appropriate steps. )

[ "Home" he calls it again, and she makes no move to disagree with him, but she doesn't want to think of it like that. She doesn't have a home, but even so, she'd think of the familiar hallway of the Express, the room she had filled with the memories she'd begun to acquire since waking up, shared chores, Himeko's sludgy awful coffee, the crew.

This is... just another temporary stop, but she might as well treat it like a precious memory for later on down the road. The base feels impersonal still, though.

He grabs her wrist and it's rough enough that she winces slightly, her skin as chilled as ever (though the rest of her feels a little uncomfortably warm), but March tolerates maybe five steps of this before she comes to a stop. Once she's sure Izou's also stopped and is steady enough, she tugs her wrist free and moves in closer with a little grumble, one hand resting at his back and the rest of her near, helpfully. ]

Just lean on me, already. This is a limited time offer from a pretty girl, so if you miss out, it's your loss!

[ She fully expects him not to go for that, but at the very least, she can be close enough to ensure he doesn't fall on the walk back. ]

( the cold of her skin when compared to the warmth of his that laps eagerly at anything it can hold onto, the way they've gradually become covered in the colors of spring as they had their little back-and-forth beneath the cherry trees. an izou who hadn't spent the night indulging in pleasure and reward might've swatted her help away immediately, content in making a fool of himself.

but maybe he should just lean on a pretty girl and let them lead him somewhere, as he swallows his own perceived shame of it on his tongue and accepts the small hand fitted against his back. accepts that this is a much better alternative to letting her watch him waste his entire night out on the riverbank, or worse, fall asleep in the cold outside.

a free hand close to her lowers as if to lay itself on her waist, and then pauses, the wasted hamster turning the wheel in his head doing its utmost not to embarrass him here. instead, izou draws it back, deciding to do exactly as she says, leaning his weight into her just a tad as his head bobs slightly with each stride of a step. )

Careful, goin' down this way.

( if only because the crowds seem to be thinning, and to him, anyone by themselves this late can't be too trustworthy. it's almost ingrained in him to expect something at this point, and he inclines his head lazily towards where the station ought to be in the distance. or maybe... that's the opposite way? nah. surely... )

Hopefully, we ain't too... it ain't too late for the last train.

[ For as confidently as she said it, March is normally not the one being leaned on. Unless it's another planetary crisis of some sort and she's helping out civilians, but this is something a lot tamer. Just a drunk guy who doesn't necessarily need her (need her help, she corrects herself, silently) and likely would say as much, if he was sober.

For once, she's far less lively or exuberant in her movements, just focusing on easing them along the ramp, down the riverbank, to the station. Slow but steady progress. He'd told her she didn't need to prove herself, not to him, but a part of her still wants to establish that she can be useful. She can get them back.

A few people do glance in their direction, some gazes lingering longer than they ought, but either something about the man slightly slumped against her or the thought that it might not be worth whatever effort they're considering, has them moving on without causing a disturbance. ]

We'll be okay. [ Because she doesn't want to think about them missing the last train. Sure, there are places to stay, if they had to, but she's not exactly drowning in money right now. But they'd manage. She was a member of the Nameless, after all. A Trailblazer.

They always managed.

Thankfully, it's a moot point. They get to the train, March hurriedly shoving a foot through the threshold as they announce the closing of the doors, to get the both of them inside and to a pair of seats. As soon as she's sure he's actually sitting down and not at risk of falling forward, she moves her hand off his back. ]

There we go! Almost there, Izou.

[ With an air of proud triumph as though she truly did something amazing. ]

( izou returns their stares as they pass with some of his own, unbeknownst to march, a one-eyed, weary glare landing on each and every one of them with as much viciousness as he can summon at the moment, as if to say, "don't even try it". the last thing they, or he needed, was some punk to stroll up and grate his nerves while a girl like march was supporting him and his wobbly legs.

when they arrive at the station after all that shuffling, he lands with an unceremonious thud in the seat he's been guided to, and then—

looks down, brushing a hand past the fringe of his messy bangs to hold it to his forehead. breathes in slow. shit. he really had her do all that work, got her involved in the cycle he always returns to: make a mess of himself, become a burden. rinse and repeat. he did tell her to do as she pleases in the heat of the moment, but...

he swallows, various phrases he didn't deserve tumbling all about in his head along with the repetitive train announcement.

almost there, huh.

before izou glances up to check the time or even if march is still present, he starts patting the seat next to him with a heavy hand, as if signaling for her to sit. )

[ Well, he's still conscious. That's good.

March takes the assumed cue after a few seconds, sinking into the seat next to him. It's hard to tell what he's thinking when he's quiet, and sure, Dan Heng is also quiet, but she'd known her fellow passenger long enough now to know additionally what those silence moments meant. Here, she's not sure if he's feeling sick, if he's falling asleep, if he's lost in memories coaxed out by the alcohol or if he's just not the talkative type.

... Well, the alcohol had kind of proved him otherwise, though.

Still, she thinks she should probably stop talking, in case it makes things worse. So she simply settles back, pushing back her bangs briefly to clear it of any stray flower petals that might have latched on for the ride back. They're both still sporting light layers of them just from having stood out there. ]

( yep. izou's still awake. still awake, but the gentle rock of the train is sure to lure him to sleep eventually.

the relative silence is comfortable, the dullness between his shoulder blades from having to sit up and focus on staying up a minor inconvenience. the chance to gain his composure, to screw his eyes shut for a good couple of minutes and clear a good deal of the escalating nausea was a welcome one, and it's then that he finds he can concentrate on something more pressing.

the smaller presence moving beside him.

he doesn't open his eyes at first, allowing his senses to remain dull, but then finally, finally, he says something, unmoving under the dim light and the neon projections through the windows of the train car. )

You... You said something 'bout being sealed away before. Someone got a problem with you, where you're from?

A lot of people did, for one reason or another. [ The crew, in general. Not everyone appreciated them trying to seal a Stellaron, even if it was better for the place it had landed in. She'd seen for herself how it could corrupt a person who'd listened to its whispers. But she knows that's not really the true answer here, so March tips her head back to stare at the brightly lit ceiling of the train. ]

... But I don't know... how I wound up in the ice. [ Naked, no less. She doesn't mention that. ] Or how long I was in there, just floating in space. Maybe I was the one who did it. Maybe it was some kind of punishment or an attack or to protect me. It's really all one huge blank.

[ Frustrating beyond belief, if she dwells on it. ]

I found out recently, though. That it's not like I hit my head or anything, but... something sealed my memories deliberately. So maybe whatever did that was also responsible for the ice.

[ This is said deliberately lightly. Matter-of-factly, even. Just a tidbit of information to offer a new friend. ]

( izou listens the best he can, head tilting forward in drowsiness after trying to pull it back.

and while he can't see her expression or even picture it at the moment, the casual manner in which she admits all this has his tongue feeling useless. clumsy even. is the air in here harder for her to swallow when she talks about being imprisoned in ice like it's something that just happens to everyone? why is it so easy for her to talk about it?

even just the thought of imprisonment, just the mention of it tugs at uncomfortable memories beneath his ribcage. things he doesn't want to think about right now, and as his brows furrow, he pushes it all aside. presses down on the recollection of dark halls and the dirt beneath his fingers that never seemed to leave.

none of that's here. not in this new life.

just purple limned with neon orange out the corner of his eye as the train rocks, his hands open in his lap. when he tries to mumble out a response to her, it's difficult, the drunken fatigue when combined with the soothing ride gradually taking him out.

all he can do eventually is lean into her shoulder, his neck tilting slightly in her direction, the sight of his sleeping face a rare one indeed. )

[ March blinks when he doesn't actually respond beyond a drowsy mumble that she can in no way parse, and just when she debates asking how he's feeling, she feels him lean against her shoulder.

Oh. Isn't this vulnerability? His sleeping face is unguarded and her fingers itch to grab her camera and snag a quick shot, but several problems occur to her. If she moves, that might wake him up and they've still got a fair ways to go before their stop anyway. And taking a picture of him when he's asleep (and drunk enough to slump against her, for that matter) just seems... not quite like taking advantage, but it still doesn't sit quite right.

But it's such a disappointment, in a way. When is she ever going to have the opportunity to see his face like this again?

Wow, it's so hard to be upstanding.

March sighs to herself, but settles on a compromise, studying Izou's face while he sleeps. Maybe she can commit it to memory, this quiet moment that only she is likely to remember. It's just as important as all the other ones she's lived so far.

After a few minutes, she carefully lifts one hand to pluck a stray petal from his hair, which is a lot less embarrassing when one of them is asleep. ]

Fine, fine... one extra service for the night. [ With a softly amused huff.

Here's hoping she doesn't have to try and lug him off the train when they get to the base, because that's going to go terribly. ]

( closed ) i don't want to be pitied,

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