Disclaimer applies to every chapter: I own nothing but my words. Also, all chapters are referenced from only the anime!verse.These few chapters will be quite short, but I hope you like it nonetheless!


Roda

Roda stirred from a dreamless sleep. Around her lay numerous old carpets and makeshift tents belonging to other non-Spirits who lived in Blue Notes Scale with her. The ice around the frozen gaichuu acted as mirrors, reflecting whatever light entering the ice cave, shrouding the cave in an ethereal shade of cold blue. Noir lay beside Roda and he rolled over, eyebrows furrowed from a fitful dream, as Roda sat up noiselessly on their tattered rug.

Roda looked up at the luminescent crystals that hung from the roof of the cave – they were of shades of green and purple, and threatened to fall on them at any moment. Deeper inside the cave were the Maka and its daughter. Despite taking the non-Spirits in with them they usually stayed out of sight – except for the Daughter, who often came to look at them or to join them in whatever they were doing. The Daughter reminded Roda of a child – unused to civilisation; unsure of how to speak to them.

Roda glanced down at Noir. His white hair needed a trim, and it covered his face, just brushing his eyelashes. His lips were parted in sleep, but as she watched it seemed that they were moving – as if he were whispering to her, or to people beyond her reach. Roda felt a sense of admiration well up from inside her – she found Noir strong, in a cold, distant way, although his eyes usually held a warmth just enough to melt blocks of ice. Roda's thoughts wandered to the past, and she revisited memories she refused to let go.

"Your hand," Roda remembered herself say, back when she and Noir were still in Reverse. She remembered Noir's white arms, bandaged to stop the bleeding, and his hands, that had stretched out to take hers. Roda remembered the feeling of Noir's palm against her own – delicate, papery and cold. Roda remembered, and she looked down at her hands, clenching and unclenching them, as if trying to grasp the feeling of Noir's hand against her own. She hadn't touched Noir's hands in a long time, it seemed.

Roda remembered when Noir had given her her name. They had been looking down from a cliff at nothing in particular, and they had been talking about something Roda couldn't remember. He'd given her the name, "Roda", and after she'd tested it out on her tongue Roda had found that she liked it. Having a name – the thought of having a name that belonged to her, and not just a serial number – had given her purpose. I am Roda, she remembered herself thinking. That's my name. Roda remembered herself looking at Noir, and thinking, And I am his dingo.

Roda remembered being a dingo, and fighting with, and for Noir. She remembered the church, and Lawrence, and Signal and Signaless, and the white-haired boy and his second-rate dingo. She remembered curious things – of Noir in a blue uniform and another white-haired boy – or was he the same as the one before? She couldn't tell. Those memories had to be from one of the animals fused with her, for sure, but Roda didn't know why she could remember only those, but nothing else.

"Roda."

Noir was awake, but his voice was quiet. Roda looked away quickly – his purple eyes always seemed to see into her mind and know exactly what she was thinking. She heard the rustle of clothes as he sat up beside her, and barely flinched as his arm brushed against hers.

"You're not asleep," he continued, still looking at her. He had a way of asking questions that didn't sound like questions, and Roda found it very odd.

"I was thinking."

"Of?"

"You," Roda's reply came as a whisper. She drew her knees to her chest as her stomach twisted – in a good way, and flinched again as Noir sucked in a breath.

"Of me?"

"Yes." Roda turned to look at him, and it was Noir's turn to jump – as if he thought she was looking into his mind and knew everything he thought. Seconds after, he regained his cool composure, and hummed a noncommittal reply, leaving Roda to wonder if what she did was wrong. Was it wrong? Did other dingoes do this? What was this? Roda was swimming into uncharted waters, touching and knowing things she had not dealt with before.

The air and the silence between them grew thin and delicate, and as Roda breathed she feared that she might break that moment with even a small movement of her hands, or even the whisper of a word. Her breath formed white clouds of moisture, twisting and spiralling into thin air.

"Thank you," Noir suddenly said, startling Roda, who then looked at him, her ears pink from the cold. "...For thinking of me," Noir continued, and he looked at the ground.

"It's okay," Roda answered, having nothing else to say. She turned back and felt heat rush to her ears, and let out a warm breath, watching it turn to mist, suspended in the cold blue air. Noir got up without a sound, and said that they should go into town today to find jobs, food, and clothing. He would leave a message for the others to do the same, he said. Roda nodded in silent agreement, and rubbed the sleep and cold from her charred arms. Just as she was about to stand Noir stretched out a hand towards her, the intensity of his eyes shocking her a little.

"Your hand," he said softly, his eyes smiling. Roda took it, the pink spreading from her ears to her cheeks, and she noticed his hands – delicate, papery and warm.


I started with Roda only because she's amazing and she's my favourite. uwu
Not everything will be shippy I promise I promise I cross my heart and swear that not everything will be shippy—