Though Keiji often crossed her thoughts and haunted her dreams, but Kasumi couldn't help but feel as if a weight had been lifted off of her soul. Being able to sleep at night without rushing to the greybox before she did so was… well, it was marvelous. The greybox didn't rule her life anymore, didn't dictate how she would feel on a daily basis. It had been a week since she purged it.
Maybe, just maybe, she could move on; be happy again.
She was cautiously optimistic about it—she and Jacob often chatted each other up now, and having someone to talk to was nice. Granted, it was usually during shore leave which happened with such rarity nowadays, so close to the Omega Four Relay were they, but still.
Quietly, she made her way to the starboard observation deck, where she knew Samara was practicing her meditations. When she entered the spartan room, she felt like an struck her as odd, considering her occupation of the galaxy's best thief. Kasumi was used to sneaking and slipping into places unnoticed, but Samara had such an air of calm surrounding her, she felt rude disturbing it. In the center of it, Samara sat with the faint glow of dark mnemonic energy emanating from between her hands.
Not even the whoosh of the door interrupted the justicar, who seemed so deep and lost in her thoughts. Kasumi paused, toyed with the idea of cloaking herself, if only to leave unnoticed and come back at a later date. She didn't know how Samara would react from having her meditation broken.
"You may walk softly, but your presence is not entirely unnoticeable." Samara's words both insulted and startled her. The asari was more observant than Kasumi gave her credit for—something she'd have to keep in mind for future reference. "What brings you here?" Save for Shepard, not many others visited Samara, so her suspicion wasn't entirely unfounded.
"I have to thank you." Kasumi hesitated, unsure if she should walk into the room any further. She never sought Samara out before, even if she happened to be down the hallway from her own room.
"For?" She could have sworn she heard hints of annoyance in Samara's composed tones. The asari didn't turn, her meditative position maintained.
"Helping me."
"You speak of Keiji, correct?" Samara's shoulders sagged, and suddenly she looked so very tired. In a small puff of dark energy, the mnemonic ball dissipated.
"Yea."
With a wave of her hand, she gestured for Kasumi to sit down. She sat on the left of Samara with her knees held close to her chest.
"You are most welcome." She said. The corner of her mouth twitched a small, almost invisible movement.
Kasumi watched the mass of whirling whites, the faint red and orange and blue blurs, of stars and far off galaxies outside the window. Samara seemed intent on watching the various lights dance on the insides of her eyelids, her eyes closed still, as if she were in half-meditation. It wouldn't have surprised Kasumi if such a thing were true. For one, it would explain the perpetual calm that seemed to radiate from the asari. Now if only her calm were infectious. Grunt wouldn't be so keen to start petty fights, and perhaps Shepard wouldn't be so brash. Jack would definitely benefit from some lessons if Samara happened to be so inclined. Kasumi knew she wouldn't mind such a class.
A pregnant pause transformed into a lengthy silence. Silence never bothered Kasumi, and it seemed that the two of them had that much in common, even if she got the impression that Samara would rather her leave. The justicar was too polite to outwardly say such a thing, however. So Kasumi stayed, her mind racing with a thousand and one different thoughts, until one of them came unbidden from her mouth.
"How come it's easier now than when I had the memories?" Her voice seemed to echo against the plain walls of the starboard observatory deck.
Kasumi observed Samara's unmoving form. Finally, she relented and opened her eyes. They unsettled Kasumi a little for they seemed to probe into her, dive deep through her inner thoughts and most private of secrets. Absentmindedly, she tugged her hood down a little farther. After a moment, Samara looked away and off into the depths of space.
"Having the greybox, and the memories within, only reminded you of your grief. It did you no good." She said to Kasumi, head turning into her direction a bit. Her hands were wound together, a small steeple on her lap.
When Kasumi thought about it, it made sense. How could she possibly get over Keiji if she was always throwing herself into the past and reliving memories the way she was? There was a fine line between grieving and becoming unhealthily fixated on the past.
Samara pointed out, with tact, that she had begun to cross that line.
Even if Samara never said it out loud, Kasumi could tell she did not approve of Shepard's original decision to let her keep the greybox. The thought that Samara didn't know how the contents could implicate the Alliance burst into Kasumi's mind. And she wondered if Samara's decision would have been different if she had known, given her dedication to justice and doing what was right. Not that Kasumi would ever tell Samara, especially now, of all times.
When a prolonged amount of time had passed when Kasumi said nothing in return, Samara continued. "For simplicity's sake, imagine a scab constantly being ripped off. The wound would take longer to heal and leave a worse scar than it would have if left alone."
"That's… gross." Kasumi said, scrunching up her nose in disgust. Then added quickly: "No offense."
"None taken, but it does get the message across." Amusement danced in her eyes; a rare occurrence. The notion that perhaps Samara said it for shock factor occurred to Kasumi, but the thought was quickly disregarded.
"Yeah, I'll give you that much." Kasumi admitted.
Smoothly, Samara rose to her feet. "Would you care to join me for tea?" The faint traces of a smile tugged at her mouth. "I have finished my meditations for the day."
"Hm. Your offer is hard to refuse." Kasumi clambered to her feet. "I could always go for tea. But let me make it this time." The aftertaste of whatever Samara made last time had the effect of ruminating in her mouth, even days after she had drank it.
Judging from the knowing look in Samara's unearthly blue eyes, Kasumi felt as if she knew she didn't like the tea she made last time, but still, the justicar is too polite to say anything about it. And Kasumi was thankful.