A.N. Please no spoilers! I'm on chapter 164, and this is written using knowledge up to that point. That said, if you haven't read up to then, now is the time to turn around! Come back once you have.
This takes place after the party on the Archimedes, which precedes the tournament final.
Fake didn't make it any less alluring. How many times had he come outside at these hours to gaze upon the abysmal lengths of ceiling lit by a faux pentagon constellation? It'd become a scene he could remember, a scene he could pick out details seen the last time or the time before. Like the clouds stretched thinly across the horizon. It was that way last night too, a dark indigo lit towards the rims by the constellation.
He'd been told the night sky is fascinating, an ever-changing entity that held no constant. Maybe seeing that once wouldn't be so bad.
Thud.
One hand slips from the rail as he turns over a shoulder. The hall is dark and the crumpled figure hissing in pain is bathed in its shadows. But the tips of long white ears are not. "Miss Xiaxia?"
She rises slowly and bumbles out in a hunch, hand to forehead. Her pink dress sits lopsided, slinking down one arm and skirt flipped up a leg. He steadies her as she falls against the balcony wall, and from her mouth spills mumbles.
His smile is small but no less soft. "Miss Xiaxia, have you had too much to drink?"
"Guu~…" she whines, head bobbing despite the "This is nothing" that follows.
"You should rest." He slinks her arm around his neck and helps her up. "I'll take you back."
Sudden squirming unbalances him, his hold lost, and—
Thud
He stands over her, watching eyes flick around and blink hard from the slouched mess she is against the wall. The bow at her collar dangles and further her dress has slipped. He swallows. "Are you all right?"
"I thought," she mumbles, arm out and waving randomly, "I thought I told you…stop saying dumb things."
He blinks. "The tournament continues tomorrow. I don't want something bad to happen to you, so please rest." He reaches to help her up.
"Wouldn't that help you?" Her teeth grit and bare, but her head droops and bangs cast shadows over her face.
The night is quiet, absent of all but the hum of a distant engine. It's a serenity that's become ephemeral since the lower floors. Beside her he sits, pressing back to wall and craning neck for one glance at the abyss before he lets it hang. "How can you say that?"
She snorts. "If it weren't for us, for F.U.G., you wouldn't have made it this far." Her laugh comes properly this time, a dry chuckle that quickly tapers. "You'd be dead on some low floor. Tossed and forgotten like garbage." A grin that takes to her lips…
"I know."
…does the same. It's slight, the turning of her head to catch his crestfallen gaze. Such an infuriating gaze. "Hate us." His eyes close. "Hate us!" She reaches for his collar but a surge of drowsiness jolts through her head and amidst eyes briefly rolling up, falls against it instead. "Why don't you hate us?"
"Miss Xiaxia." He feels her stir. "It's true that this situation is one I'm not fond of."
"See. You do."
"But I don't hate you. I don't hate F.U.G."
There's a shift in the distant humming, its whirring quietening further.
"…What?"
His eyes flick to her. "Miss Xiaxia?"
A hand is over her face, fingers curled against her brow. "What I did to you back at Arlen's Hand. I thought, for sure, when I pressed that button, you would rip me apart."
"You helped me," he blurts and her head rises from his shoulder. "If you weren't there, I'd never have found my friend."
"Friend?" It comes out in disgust that betrays her eyes wide with awe.
His nod is brisk and bangs spill over his face. "Like you, Miss Xiaxia."
She falls limp against the wall, head tilted and vision blurring in the brightness of the constellation. It's dazzling, hurting and making her reddened eyes water, but it's easier, much, much easier, to look at than the blinding light sit beside her. She grips her chest and finds the collar of her dress there. It's the first time she takes a look at the absolute mess she is. Undergarments exposed, ribbon fallen to lap, skirt riding up, feet bare and dirty. All bothersome, all unbearable, but nothing compared to the tightness she can't reach beneath her grip.
It makes her dizzier, parches her throat, and weak—it makes her so very, very weak.
"Are you all right?"
She nods.
"Please, let me take you back."
She nods and takes the hand he offers. His grip is strong but gentle, fingers curled lightly against her own.
He steps into the hall's shadows and an embrace from behind freezes him. Arms slender and smooth snake around his torso, and at the resting of one hand over his heart, he feels her press against him and nestle into the small of his back. He swallows, harder, and his ears strain to hear her murmurs.
"If I'm your friend, then you would stay here with me…right?"
He feels her stir, and then breath to his ear sends shivers down his spine:
"Forever?"
She's corrupt, but still feels.
He's pure, but not unblemished.
She deceives, but her mask has cracked.
He seeks truth, but is forced to lie.
She's dark, but still warm.
He's light, but not intangible.
"Miss Xiaxia." Her hum fills him. "Tomorrow, after the tournament, please…"
His hand rests atop hers at his heart, beat which drums fast. He inhales, exhales slow, and again her hum comes. "What is it?"
He guides her hand down and grips it tightly. "It's nothing. Please rest now."
Briefly he feels her tighten around him. "Okay."
She stumbles past him, hand up as her farewell. She stops twice, and each time he wonders if she'll turn around and let him see it again—see the smile that tugs at her lips.
When she rounds the corner, his gaze falls. The company he'd once kept held many like her, so nothing made her special, right? No, that's not true.
She's just a little bit more selfish than the others.
His nails dig into palms.
And that makes her more easily hurt.
A.N. I really like Xiaxia as a character. She's some odd combination of an introvert and extrovert. She keeps her feelings to herself mostly, but isn't afraid to be sociable with others. Her mask is quite thick, but I think it's definitely begun to crack after meeting Baam. She reminds me a lot of Rachel (Lahel? Michelle? Which is it?!) before she went off the deep end, and this holds true for physical appearance as well. Baam seems to be closer to her than any other F.U.G. member in his tournament team, which really has me curious as to how things will turn out between the two.
Maybe they'll explore the notion of "How Baam will feel after leaving behind those in F.U.G.," which is hinted at in this short piece. He really just hates to leave anyone behind. I mean, didn't he declare some crazy thing about becoming so strong that he wouldn't have to say goodbyes anymore?
Anyways, hope you enjoyed the read!