Legerdemain
"What are you doing here, out of the blue?"
Laugh for Kanan, Mari. Laugh for her.
Kanan, in her embrace, is stiff. Kanan's arms remain rigidly at her sides. Two years and there is nothing of Kanan's softness left for her. There is no surprise, only accusation. There is no carefree smile anymore.
Of course she respects Kanan's boundaries; she steps away, and she doesn't let anything else but scintillating cheer slip into her voice in return when she chirps, "I'm here to scout you!" If she had a hat, she would've tipped it with a jaunty wink.
Smile for Kanan, Mari. Smile for her.
"Scout me?" Stern, unforgiving, cold—so much like the ocean that chains Kanan. Distrust, desolation, damnation—all of which roll off of her like water on a duck's feathers with but a simple twirl of her body.
"Kanan will be a school idol once she returns from her school leave," she pronounces, as if it's a sealed deal. "At Uranohoshi!"
Give Kanan a present, Mari. Give her the world.
"You're serious?"
It is not a question of hope. Kanan does not see anything but parlor tricks, tittering laughs, blasé attitude toward people's hopes and dreams.
She drops the façade just enough to be taken seriously when she says, "If I weren't, I wouldn't have come back," but not enough to reveal the tempest at the heart of the matter.
Tears glimmer in Kanan's eyes at that—perhaps Kanan catches wind of the silent for you, I wouldn't have come back for you—yet Kanan's words are nothing but another nail on the coffin of her guilt.
"You think that's enough? A few words, a wave of your hands, and presto? As if, Mari," and Kanan turns sharply on her heel.
Be honest with Kanan, Mari. Tell her the truth.
Kanan's back is a closed door; Kanan's entire body says that there is no warmth to offer her anymore.
It, the truth, teeters on the tip of her tongue: Please, believe in me. Please, I promise I'm serious. Please, I kept your words preserved even after I left.
Please give me one more chance, Kanan.
She lets Kanan walk away.
She brushes a stray lock of hair behind her ear, and she says, to no one, "She's as stubborn as a pig, as usual," because no one is around to listen to her lies except for herself.
The only person she has to convince is herself.
Keep smiling, Mari.
There are two paths she can take. The first is honesty—as they say, honesty is the best policy.
And the second is deception.
Vanish your feelings, Mari.
It's laughably easy to twist Dia's arm a little, to cajole Dia into winding corridors of plans that seek to undue years' worth of mistakes. She can fool Dia to her cause with some slight of hand; there are fewer messy, emotional connections to complicate things there.
But Kanan—that is all choice, hope, faith, trust.
All those things are… alien, foreign to her, aren't they? Everyone, from the forgiving Kanan to the unyielding Dia, knows this: Mari O'Hara is naught but a trickster, a ring master, a magician.
Take a bow, Mari.
/\
a/n:
Have this small piece of speculation; heck if I know what's going on with the third years.
I'm writing a HonoMaki multi-chap that takes place in a "what if Otonokizaka wasn't on the brink of shutting down?" AU. I'm vaguely considering adding in some NozoEliUmi antics and KotoNico angst, but I dunno. If anyone has any thoughts on any of this, feel free to mention it in a review or send me an ask at teddy-tries-writing on tumblr!
Please review!