dedication: to xxkoffeexx. welcome to the amazing world of nalu, darlin'. so happy we could have you. also, thank you for the lovely gift — everyone, go read Heart Line, like, right now.
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a girl made of paper
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It starts off blank, an empty sheet of paper.
And then slowly, stroke by stroke, there is a sketch of a girl.
A girl who means nothing to the world.
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Rogue doesn't understand.
He doesn't get why everyone enjoys stepping on Yukino Aguria, like she is nothing but a ghost, like she is a shadow that children chase and stomp on. And they'll run and jump on darkened concrete, the pitter-patter of their feet laced with no care in the world of the damage done. Because they want to hurt the shadow, even if it really feels nothing.
But Yukino feels.
And Rogue doesn't think she is worthy of living in the shadows, in his shadows. A girl who is bathed, every inch, in white, who possesses pride that could rival Sting's, should forever walk in the light.
But Yukino is different.
She is like a puzzle—not a particularly difficult one but one that no one is willing to solve. All the pieces are scattered before him, waiting to be put together, and yet the shards lie in plain view collecting dust. No one cares if this puzzle is incomplete. No one cares to see its perfection.
But maybe Frosch cares. And maybe Frosch finds pieces from time to time, because Frosch likes Yukino.
So maybe Rogue should like Yukino, also.
One day, when he finds a fragment, lying cold and forgotten in a field of nothing, he sees her standing there, dim and faded like the light refuses to shine on her.
She smiles at him, a lifeless grin, lips drawn on crooked with permanent marker. And when he stares into those hollow brown eyes, he sees a bird, feathers plucked from the wings, looking up at the sky.
He still isn't sure why, but from then on, Rogues decides to become the shadow to her light.
And he swears, he will draw a new Yukino, one that is not scribbles and tears on a once pristine sheet of paper.
Rogue colors her cheeks, rosy and pink, promising to stay within the lines.
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He witnesses his work of art being crumpled up and tossed aside before him. The Grand Magic Games are relentless, and she's not even supposed to be there, but still, she lays out her pride and brandishes her will like everyone else.
Rogue swallows hard, the lump in his throat, and carefully unwraps her. He smooths her out, fingertips running gently along the wrinkles, and almost whispers silent apologies.
Later that night, Yukino is put on display before the entire guild. She is naked and exposed and so painfully incomplete, he wants to scream Don't look a her! She isn't done...
Rogue bites back the not yet and watches the fall of his masterpiece, still unfinished.
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They meet in the hallway, and she looks at him with featherless birds and stars in her eyes. The grip on her luggage tightens as she smiles at him with pastel lips, murmuring a soft and sincere "Thank you."
And then, like ink bleeding through a page full of thoughts, he knows.
Rogue stares blankly at the girl made of paper, held together at tears with tape, and allows himself to return her smile, the corner of his mouth curling up by a margin. Then he signs his work with a brush of his thumb along her cheek and lets her go for the world to see.
The doors closes with a click, and Rogue remembers what it's like to live as a shadow without the light.
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notes: i'm sorry, you have every right to hate me.