a/n: spoilers for the first episode of Second Cour.
You notice the way she looks at him because it's the way you look at her. She sends secret smiles his way like he's promised her the stars when all he's done is comment on the price of eggs at the convenience store. She stares at him a little too softly, a little too long.
You try not to let it hurt. You already knew she'd never look at you that way, so you can't really blame him even though you find yourself glowering, chewing the inside of your cheeks and wishing he'd shut the fuck up even though he doesn't talk much anyway.
It's a petty gripe. In a mere matter of days you're going to be at war with Mars, the war they're been prepping you for throughout the entirety of your fifteen years on this planet. Despite the drills and the shambles of your homeland after the Heaven's Fall you still never truly believe it will come to war in your lifetime, you still ignorantly think otherwise and now to you, Inko is the world.
She is the world and you're her destroyed moon, and he's the sun she beams in and you hate that, but you still don't want her to get burned.
{\}
"Nina, I'm scared," she admits, aubergine oculars baring her soul as she squeezes your hands like she's trying to steady her own, sweaty and shaking. "I know we have to do it and I'm ready to do it, but I'm still scared."
For a moment gravity is suspended, your breath catches. Then it's back and you feel heavier than ever, ready to sink to the floor like a stone in the sea and it's her hands that keep you standing.
"I..." I love you, you want to tell her. This may very well be the last chance you get and even though she doesn't feel the same way, you want Inko to know you cherish her more than anyone else, you want her to know that it's not just now when she's been the only thing keeping you up, you want her to know that she is the world and the air and the sugar, and you selfishly want to relieve the pressure of these feelings constricting your chest, your shoulders too narrow for their mass.
"I'm scared too," you say. "We can be scared together tonight and we can be brave together tomorrow." You smile at her with all the love you have and you hope she can see because it can't be verbalized.
She smiles back at you, sorrowful and grateful as her hands give yours another squeeze. You want to intertwine your fingers and you think that maybe you could, but then she lets go.
{/}
As the Deucalion crashes into the the landing castle, your head cracks back against the seat, your teeth rattle, blood washes over your tongue, hot and metallic as fuzzy silver pinpoints dazzle your sightline. Metal crunches, screeches, bangs and scrapes; the cacophony knives to your eardrums.
A quiet groan pulls itself from your lips and when you regain focus of your surroundings, it's her face in your mind. You can still feel the sweat of her palms and the tremble in her fingers, but fresher is her expression before you parted ways to your respective stations, her chin held firm and high, the steely glint of determination in her eyes.
She is the world (she is your world) and she is strong.
Be safe, you think.
Please be safe.
{\}
Your hope is granted, by some means or another. It can't be fifteen minutes later when she barrels in, all in one piece, her skin unbroken, supporting an Inaho whose luck wasn't as rich with Yuki-sensei's help.
She's tearful, but she's here and your heart soars as a wave of relief washes over you. It's certainly a sin to feel such elation as the one she loves hangs on by a thread, his eye massacred and prognosis poor. You'll feel grief for him later, because he is your friend and it is thanks to him you've gotten this far alive, but now your emotions are up to their capacity with the sheer solace that Amifumi Inko is breathing, uninjured.
She doesn't even glance to you. You may be her best friend, but right now you don't even exist because he is her sun.
"You'll save him, right?" she begs Yagarai, sobs dripping from her syllables. "You'll save Inaho, right?"
{/}
She paces and she cries, and you pace and cry with her, partly for her and partly because now your relief has leaked away and you're left biting your nails for a touch-and-go friend and hollow with the futility of your mission.
But no matter how you feel, she is collapsing and she is your world, so you need to become her Atlas and hold her up on your shoulders.
"Inaho is tough," you remind her, winding your arms around her and protectively folding yourself around her as she breaks down into your chest. Her snot and tears stain your shirt and you're still sore so it hurts when she clutches onto you like a prayer.
"He'll pull through," you soothe and you rub her back, your hands massaging I love you's because your lips still won't let them through.