The sound of the glass door jingling brought a small smile to his face.
To think just a year ago the city of Shibuya had been nearly extinguished of all reverb…all nuances…all life, was nearly unfathomable. Their very existence hanging by a thread.
Dreams had been haunting and obscure since then.
Waking up in cold sweats to clutch his chest…neck…face…
Making sure he was really there.
Checking his phone —all contacts still there.
And…testing his psyche.
Gone.
No pins. No boosts. No…special gifts or perks to cheat the big game of life he had played.
He was back. They all were. And it had been incredibly humbling.
But, almost too humbling. Almost…imaginary.
Had he truly experienced what his mind relayed, night after night as if days had not passed? The longer he thought about it, staring at his ceiling in those eerie quiet nights, not a sound to be heard aside from the pulsing in his ears, the more he wondered if it had all been some magnificent dream…horrifying and traumatic and incredibly vivid— a hallucination for the ages. A story to be told to the world and then some. And everyone would laugh and agree that his imagination had truly run wild (a result of a late night pizza or the like), and then life would carry on as it always did, normal and average and comfortable.
No noise to lurk every corner.
No reapers to test the mettle.
No teams to pit against.
Teams that were made of people, and friends, and beautiful souls that were just as desperate to live like he had managed to do. And guilty as he was to be able to outshine them, he couldn't help but also feel grateful. He was a survivor. They all were…in this…ridiculous dream of dreams.
Except…
…when his eyes fell on her…sitting alone at the window seat, all focus glued to her screen, he knew that this dream was no more than the very reality that befell him. Their paths would have never crossed otherwise. That much, he was completely certain of.
And from the tiniest voice that whispered within his empty playground of thoughts…he was unapologetically beholden…grateful…thankful for every minuscule instant that hellish, dumpster fire of a game had dragged him through, because in the end, they had sacrificed it all for their happy ending…and they had won. Was such a thought too selfish to be proud of? He certainly thought so. Such thoughts were kept tucked away, quiet and safe where no one could read them…not even the players of the newest round.
Had the new rounds started yet? Possibly. It wasn't like the concept of time had exactly been dependable.
Life had…continued on.
But, strangely enough, not without them. In this timeline, anyway. When everyone had made it out alive —everyone on their team, that is.
The day had picked up exactly where it had left off, three weeks prior. The dates felt wrong and the hours were baffling, and yet, the memories were there. There for the keeping.
They had all kept in touch. It felt wrong not to. They were an unspoken family now, like warriors of olde, and it was only by their connection that these memories and thoughts refused to fade, refused to be forgotten…because at some point or another, something was always brought up.
The reapers.
The angels.
The impending destruction of Shibuya.
It was nearly impossible for them to not bring up at least one moment in time when they had suffered, and had grown stronger for it. The normality of life had come across as too easy now after such an exposure. To know what came beyond life, to a certain extent. To be erased was still a mystery, and even the reapers had been left out of the loop when it came to the higher tiers of existence. Such a conversation with anyone outside of their group would call for bizarre looks and concern. Crazy talk. Who would believe them? Who would dare?
And so the Wicked Twisters group chat remained, if not for posterity, then for sanity.
It was more than friendship. It was support. Emotional and otherwise.
To cope in the RG was harder than any of them realized, though some seemed to cope better than others.
Her eyes never lifted from her phone, brows knit occasionally as she fully immersed herself within her digital world, the rather large and gaudy sundae she had ordered melting along the side of the tall glass. A small smirk curled the edges of his lips, casually shuffling down the aisle of the living.
Still as obsessed as ever.
And it was only when he approached her table, too close for comfort for her to ignore the life form towering over her, that her hazel eyes lifted —though crisply as if preparing to defend herself with a sharpened tongue. And with the quickest of realizations, her scowl grew to that of immediate impatience, though much less harshly than she would have otherwise.
Her eyes glowed with a newfound excitement…and her hands (fingertips rather possessive) pressed the screen to the table. It was only then that he understood the respect she had grown for him, to break away from this sacred world of hers…
"Progress report. Have you completed the latest chapter or should I refrain from spoilers?"
Respect came in all shapes and sizes, he supposed. But sometimes, he preferred the old fashioned way.
"Oh, hi, Fret! I haven't seen your face to face in forever —you look good! It's a beautiful day out, isn't it? Maybe even nice enough to enjoy the sundae that's melting all over the place." the young man mocked ever so lightly, his jovial jest always a sure way to poke between the ribs. Hooking his palms along his hips, he arched the slightest of brows, "Sheesh, and you tell me I have communication problems."
He was met with a colder scowl than the one he was greeted with.
No matter. His smile was warm.
"How's it goin', Nagirl?"
The energy within her eyes seemed to burn firmly as she squinted him over, collecting her narrow spoon with a grunt,
"You appear exceedingly comfortable."
Her voice held an unimpressed malice, though he had known her long enough to decipher between true disscontempt and simple pettiness. He accepted her tone with a grain of salt.
"Oh, this?" he suggested at himself before pulling a seat opposite of her (and the only available seat to her company), "Yeah, feelin' pretty boho today. Soothing colors. Looks pretty fresh, huh?"
The comfortable flair of his harem pants could not be argued with, the multiple patterns of blues and creams matching the soft blue of the shirt he wore and the cream of the beanie he adorned, but he wasn't quite sure it could compare to the oversized shirts she so often defaulted to, though today, for a change of pace, she had donned a new piece of armor. The oversized hoodie ballooned her wrists with its many patches (most he recognized from EleStra), but the overall base was a comforting teal, and he found this interesting.
He had toned down…she had toned up. Perhaps some progress had been made after all. On a subconscious level, anyway.
"The chapter?" she pressed once more, determined to analyze his handling of the game as prudently as possible, her ice cream still forgotten with the spoon halfway merged.
Leaning an arm along the edge of the table, the young man tilted his head as he gazed about from the view of their window, "Mm?"
It was the shadow of a smirk that boiled her.
"Lord Tosai! Allow me to remind you t'was your notice that derailed me from an otherwise previous engagement-"
Her gazed narrowed, as did the grit of her teeth, "…and what, pray tell, is so humorous?"
Her dark tone appeared unbalanced to his cheerful light, and he curled his hand along his cheek, elbow pressed for balance, "Oh…just thinkin' about a time when you wouldn't even acknowledge my existence."
"The concept is quite tempting." she uttered under her breath, and lowering his palm to cup his forearm, Tosai Furesawa gazed at the slumped cream, quiet and thoughtful,
"I'm just teasin' ya, Boss. I'll stop if you want me to."
Adjusting her sliding frames, the young woman's tension broke, settling for a more even ground.
"T'would be most appreciated."
There was a moment of peace between them, and for the briefest of seconds, Shibuya could be heard, ambient as ever. Alive and comforting.
"…Truly…how fares your progress?"
A quiet chuckle.
"Heh…I finished it about two weeks ago. Side quests, too."
"Verily?" she jumped, and the tall glass nearly toppled, though the cream did slosh a bit and dripped down the side creating a decent collective puddle on the table. Scooping a few napkins from the private container, Fret set a few atop to soak in the mess, quite used to the girl's enthusiastic gusto when it came to all things EleStra. However, he couldn't help but avoid her gaze as her nose scrunched in suspicion, doing her ultimate best to read him. It had been a gift of hers, with or without her heightened ability to dive into the human psyche.
"Deception is mine enemy." she huffed, but he shook his head, finally meeting her eyes, "No, you got it all wrong, Boss. I really did finish it. Unlocked the new region, did the whole quest with the missing kids, got past the capture bit, upgraded my weapons, and ended on that cliff hanger with the blonde lady."
The flame burning within smothered to embers as the scenarios played by his words where indeed true, and yet, he looked rather forlorn. Her eyes maintained a firm lock on him, as if he were accountable for reasons unknown, and perhaps he was. He was simply keeping it to himself, per usual.
"I told ya, I'm invested." he shrugged sheepishly, swirling the spoiled napkins about, "It's…comforting, in a way."
So, it was working for him. This pleased her. The tiniest of smiles had escaped, but he had become distracted in his thoughts, folding the corner of one of the tissues,
"Tomonami's always smilin' at me."
A truth she could not deny. The character often was a rather charming individual, written wise and designed. Unfortunately, his nearly perfect persona only existed within the confines of the digital world, as doppelgängers had proven to be wonderfully attractive, but internally callous. And yet, still, she wondered if beyond the cold calculations was a lost soul lingering for warmth —brave and dashing, strong beyond all measure…
"-Earth to Nagi. Come in, Nagi."
Her focus shifted slightly in realization, noting the awareness in his eyes that she had been briefly lost to the world of EleStra once more.
"Uh…forgive me. You were saying?"
"Nothing too important. Let me know if I'm boring you. I'll try to spice it up."
Her brow knit in warning, and the young man sighed, his smirk withering away.
"The game. It makes me feel like…he accepts me —the way I am. Y'know?"
His fingers curled back, tucking under his elbow as he leaned into a hunch. Again, his gaze had fallen to the crumpled masses, his blue eyes rather stormy in hue.
"Lord Tomonami is a valiant strength, indeed. I believe many find refuge in his presence."
He huffed a small smile, head shaking as he watched a group of people walk by outside, "I feel like I sound crazy. A bunch of ones and zeroes getting me more than people do."
Her brow softened, sharing in his gaze.
People walking to and fro. Loud and quiet, alike. Bustling as it ever was, and they, nearly invisible to the fray. Not nearly as see through as they had once been, no —they were rather solid now, but the blend was close. Quite close.
"No more inexplicable than the ability to recollect the memories of thousands and align their energies."
His hands curled under his chin in a gentle fist, observing the trees that broke the dreaded gray.
"…We did pretty good, didn't we?"
His smile was small, but rewarding.
"…We most certainly did."
And there it was. The evidence that battered away the doubts. The anxieties. The quiet thoughts that haunted his nightly dreams. The truth was a heavy burden to bear.
To know it had all been…real.
Silence filled the void between them as the outside world appeared more foreign than it had in those days when Shibuya Syndrome had been a very real problem. No one quite remembered it, though. Friends, family, strangers, shop owners…life had always been the way it was, had it not?
They stood on the very line between what was and what had been, and it had been a blessing and a curse all in one. To be blissfully ignorant of the danger the entire city had been threatened with…all dependent on the shoulders of a bunch of ragtag youth.
That morning…the first day of the first week…his biggest concern had been the slickness of his outfit and the void in his stomach. How lovely it had been to live in a fool's world.
"You think…it's happening now?"
The words tasted carefully on his tongue, shoulders sliding toward his ears, "…Another round?"
A daring question, and a fair one all the same. They had been exposed to but a blip of the afterlife, naive to the fact that they had even been pulled in. Their minds had been triggered as mass weapons of universal truths…a field of curiosity and elemental bending…the power of the galaxy in the palm of their hands.
And though such talents had been cut off and stripped, he couldn't help but feel a strange lingering connection to what once was…a tingling in the quiet corners of his subconscious…a phantom limb of sorts. He had lost his powers, yes. They all had.
But his ability to see beyond what others could…
To interpret and internalize…
To feel what others could not…
Some would find such a skill rather dark. Creepy. Eerie.
And it was that sixth sense that had placed a target on his back…suckered him in and guided him right into Shiba's hands. Those stupid pins. It was he who had grabbed them. He who had passed one to Rindo —roped into the biggest game of risk they had ever played in their entire lives, and had they not…would Shibuya even be here? Would they have dissolved away with the city?
He…Rindo…Nagi…everyone? Nothing more than a ghostly memory…like the child of Shinjuku? A soul lost to time and even memory?
What did it mean to be forgotten?
Not just to time, but to existence?
Shiba had sworn to recollect the pieces…fill the data…whatever that meant. Kaie would know what to do. And Rhyme would no doubt be of assistance. It was a start.
But to what point?
And when?
As far as Fret knew, Shinjuku was still a city of shadows, unknown to the RG and to the people in it. Perhaps it took longer to rebuild an entire city than the few days it took to destroy it. He couldn't imagine it was anything along the lines of construction and land zoning. To rewrite the concept of energy placement and fill the voids of accurate timelines without creating noise…
He only hoped he would be able to see the city with his own eyes one day.
A city filled with…music rather than noise.
One Shoka could be proud of.
"Who's to say?" Nagi replied just as cautiously, glancing at the dark screen of her phone, "…Though I do believe the version bequest to us has been decidedly null and void since our departure."
Her hands fell to her lap, sleeves collapsing over her fingers as she rapped them against her thighs.
That was right. The illegal rules they had been playing by had been revoked once Kubo was out of the picture. The vague memory of the man still remained; though a faint imprint, he would have been all but forgotten had Rindo not revived what little sprinkle there was left of him. Even now, with tried effort, it still took a great deal to remember the man's face…but the laugh—the laugh was what lingered. Snide and cocky as ever.
"You'd think…" Fret muttered, though his voice held the grandest of doubts.
The game had existed before them, and it would continue on without them.
Different players, different times, different reasons.
It didn't matter.
There would always be someone playing for whatever desires the grand coordinators of the next world found flavorful. They had simply been the dish of the week.
"I don't even feel safe in my own head, anymore. Someone could be using their galaxy brain on me right now, and I wouldn't even know it."
"I pity their frail attempt. They may find themselves at odds with their own boredom."
Elbows against the table, he pressed two fingers to his lips, eyes sliding over to her gaze somewhat sourly, "Hey, be nice. I was sharing."
A small sigh escaped her as she eyed the pool of napkins, pressing her palms into the flat of her legs. And it seemed he had struck a chord, as she looked rather ragged and worn and so much less like the young woman who had blended back into society.
So much more like the girl on the roof who had been shaken to her core, the weight of the city on her shoulders.
"…I must admit…you are not alone in your concerns." she uttered quietly, crossing her arms as she leaned back into her seat, "Were we not kept distracted, I fear my thoughts would drift toward the compromise of mine privacy. Apologies bore no weight concerning the actions I took, despite said intrusion. I understand it was for the benefit of humanity, but…I cannot help but carry the burden of filth on my conscious…the mind is a terribly private quarter…a safe place for most."
A safe place.
The most personal of concepts…thoughts…desires…all wrapped up into one big room all to yourself. Free to live blissfully or shamefully as one possibly could. And they had found the back door. Some more pleasant than others. But, the noise…the noise had been unnatural reeking all kinds of havoc. Would it have been just of them to deny the meek the help they so desired? To be empowered with gifts, and not use them?
It hadn't been for selfish gain —they were trying to help people. From beginning to end, they had been trying to help people. Surely, there was forgiveness for that. Even if no one knew it had been silently asked of them for over a year.
Resting his curled fist on the table, the young man kept his eyes along his wrists, "We did what we had to."
And he truly believed it.
Perhaps that would comfort her to a certain extent. But it only reminded him of the true reason he had messaged her in the wee hours of the morning, promising her all the delightful progress she desired to hear as he shakily managed to keep his sentences together, the sweat chilling the line of his neck. And with her acceptance of this…meet up…he had found his room less dark, and the ability to sleep a welcoming thought once more.
"…I keep having these…dreams."
Nagi's eyes lifted to his, and for the first time that day, the connection had been made. Absolute and open. He took a breath.
"…It's this…heavy feeling. Like…Like I'm gunna be punished for surviving that shit show. And no matter what I do, I can't shake the feeling like something bad is gunna happen. Something, I can't explain. And…and I wake up…and the feeling is still there." he whispered, eyes breaking away before too much was seen, but the portal had been opened, and the words— the words kept flowing,
"…And then…"
He winced, fingers curling tightly,
"…in the background…in the tiniest voice…I can hear Kanon asking…'What are you so afraid of?'…"
The young woman before him stiffened in her seat, but made not a sound. Perhaps not even breathed.
Pulling forward, Fret pressed his fingers into his scalp, his gaze blocked by the barrier of his arms, and quietly…quietly, he answered,
"…and I say, 'Everything.'"
The rush of the shop had muted in their midst, though nothing in the RG had changed. Couples still spoke, teens still laughed, children begged for the biggest ice cream, and elders opted for the fruit. The register chimed with every purchase, the door bell jingled with every pass.
And yet, the only soul in the room sat before her, rugged and raw.
"…I can't even tell if it happened. If it's a memory…or a dream…or some left over energy from a screwed up timeline."
He paused a moment, diving deeper of his own accord,
"…Rindo turned back the clock so many times, he couldn't even keep count."
His brows knit, either in discomfort, or in realization, as his gaze floated along the table, uncomfortable with the possibilities careening through his mind, "You ever wonder what we might've said under the pressure? Things that only he knows…'cus we haven't said them yet? Or might never say at all?"
The young woman's thumbs choked under her white knuckled clench, throat dry and abraded.
His arms curled under his chest, pressing deep into the table,
"Sometimes…I wonder what I was like…at the brink of death..fighting for my life. Knowing it was gunna happen and feeling myself getting erased. And I just…lay there. And I wonder…"
The notch of his brow wavered ever so tenderly, and his voice broke just as soft,
"…was I a coward?"
Her eyes caressed his face ever so lightly before blinking off into the distance, finding she had perhaps gotten more than she bargained for upon sitting with this soul that day. Tosai had always been an interesting case from the first moment she had met him, regardless if she would deny it or not. But try, he truly had, to be more of himself, and less of anything else.
And there was a certain beauty to that openness…to be able to see the true spirit behind those blue eyes.
But, with it also came the price of admission.
And it was a hefty price to pay.
She could feel her glasses sliding along the bridge of her nose, and the thump of her pulse in her ears…the stretch of her shoulders as she inhaled deeply, and the weight of the floor beneath her. She hadn't expected to carry such a conversation this day, but somewhere deep within, she knew it had been coming.
She refused to believe she had been the only one with such troubling thoughts. Thoughts so vivid and vicious and vile that the only true comfort she could find was throwing herself into a virtual world, completely. School work had become a secondary action, socialization a near minimum. Even her online chats had gone quiet aside from her contact with the Wicked Twisters, and her check ups on Fret had become a lifeline. It had been all for his own benefit, she had told him. And it was what she told herself as well.
It was less stressful that way.
To focus on anything else but her last possible moments at one point in time.
And unlike Fret, she needn't be assured over her reaction in those moments.
Because, no matter the time line…she would have succumbed to the fear.
Her eyes closed briefly in thought, listening to the world around her.
Loud. Colorful. Filled with life. A beautiful clash of different creeds. Unique and everlasting.
And yet, despite her fears, she had pulled through. Was this not the time line that mattered most? The one they were living in, right now?
To be self aware and filled with regrets over what was, what had been, or what would never be —was that worth putting energy into?
In an alternate time, they had been erased. The details had been left bare, and perhaps that had been for the best…but, in the end, Rindo had bared witness. Rindo had watched them go. One by one…until he was the last one standing.
Nagi couldn't imagine a sliver of opportunity to have him recall such atrocities…and for what? His sacrifices had not been in vain. They had made it…the Wicked Twisters…
…and it had been terrifying.
"We could get pulled back at any time. For any reason,"
Fret's voice was but a whisper, as if keeping their conversation concealed from prying ears,
"They know who we are. Look at Beat. What are the odds that the same person got reeled in twice?"
Leaning back into his seat, he allowed his head to rock back, relieving the tension that had set upon his shoulders before peering out the window once more, arms loosely hugging his sides,
"I think…I think that's the feeling. I know the what…I just don't know when."
He fell quiet as his jaw clicked in habit, gaze slinking to the puddle of ice cream nearly level with the edges of the tall glass. His stare was far adrift into the recess of his memories, absent from the world around him, and ignorant of the soul before him. He seemed to whisper to himself more than anything, sharing a rare glimpse to the inner thoughts of his well hidden trove,
"And if it does happen…will any of it've mattered? Would it've made a difference? I've been down that road…and I know the outcome."
"T-To…To endure fear…is not cowardice."
The blue-gray gaze clicked to her face, for it was the first she had spoken since his barrage of thoughts, the pages of his inner diary flipping one after the other without a chapter end in sight.
Her eyes had narrowed onto the table, brows knit so heavily, it ripped him from the present and threw him back to the UG when the team had split to gain more territory, and Beat had opted for Rindo.
When they had been left to expand Twister territory on their own.
When it had just been the two of them.
She had been just as overwhelmed then, quick to mask it with a lashing tongue and dismissive sneer, but a magician could not be tricked by their own trade, and he had only smiled.
"Don't worry, Boss! I got your back!"
"…W-Woe is me. Abandoned by m'lords amidst the furor, and to what am I granted in defense, but the fool of men. 'Tis a stifling situation, indeed."
His own brows knit curiously, absolutely certain she was in no regard addressing him directly, but rather, insulting him indirectly as she often did. Thus far, he still wasn't exactly sure what he had done to offend her so greatly that she'd ignore his very existence if she could (perhaps he simply wasn't Rindo…but, no, that couldn't be it; She treated Beat with the same kind of respect), but he was determined to make nice as he did with everyone he ever came across. He was a socialite, after all. Friends with everyone and…welcoming. Warm. Receptive.
…Why?
Why didn't she like him?
He had been kind, respectful, a glowing ball of sunshine…who didn't like that?
Someone had to keep up the morale. Goodness knows Rindo could be testy when he wanted to be, and as positive as Beat was, they were still getting to know him. No, he wasn't this mystical legendary Neku everyone was obsessing about, but Beat had the right kind of vibe, and definitely had something to bring to the team. Speed, motivation, strength, and wisdom of the past, while Rindo carried wisdom of the future.
And Fret?
He reminded people of things. Memories lost to time, to stress, to the every day grind —and that was pretty powerful, if he did say so himself.
It was no different than what he offered in the RG, now that he thought about it. Reminding folks of the events going on, the days to look forward to, the newest trends circulating.
Reminding them to take the time to appreciate the little things and be happy.
He did it so often, he often forgot to take his own advice.
His smile dimmed.
Easier said than done.
Because, sometimes…sometimes, life could be a real shit show.
And the more he was faced with that fact, the more he wanted to avoid it.
Why couldn't life just be all fun and games?
Who wanted to talk about the powerlessness of being the idle bystander among billions of people, while those you cared about suffered in silence until—
It was a distracting thought, and perhaps more problematic than he realized as the noise gathering about seemed to circle them eagerly, eyes peering through him as if observing his very soul. And with a sour gut, his throat tightened.
Him.
They were attracted to him.
Nagi had been harnessing concern, but compared to him, she had been subtle.
Rejection…failure…fear…
It had all been him.
The negative emotions he had spewed in the moment had been a waft of perfume for the radius.
Stupid. Stupid.
He could hear the girl beside him whimper as she, too, realized the very real danger they were in, the straps of her backpack strangled within her grip as her body was racked with shivers.
"W-We're s-surrounded!"
She squeaked when her pack pressed firmly into the nook of her back, her nervous gaze shifting ever so slightly to find the source surveying the area, the curve of his spine meeting the barrier between them. They hadn't much time, and every second counted.
"…I know this is tough for you, Nagi," he murmured in a tone quite unlike himself, it kept her attention at bay, "…but, you're gunna have to trust me."
The wolf-like demons paced for their perfect strike, and neither of the two made any quick movements, lest they trigger the fight,
"I got your back."
And the voice was firm and reassuring this time around, free from the silliness that often encased it.
There seemed to be an aura building from him, powerful and desperate…but, pure.
From the heart. And without much resistance, she could feel it.
His devotion. And his trust in her.
Adjusting her glasses ever so slightly, she, too, prepared herself, knees bent and hands free, breath deep and focused,
"…I…s-suppose I must." the girl murmured back, eyes locking on one of the many, "I haven't an alternative option."
The flames licked his fingertips, and the game of life began, every move their possible last, "Now, you're lookin' on the bright side!"
Her body retained the shivers as her fists pressed firmly into her thighs,
"H-Has Lord Tomonami taught you nothing?"
The young man sat awkwardly, certain that regardless of how separated they felt from the world, the world was still watching, and a girl on the verge of tears, a good scene did not make. Yet, he couldn't help but feel confused at her words in relevance to her sacred game.
"To face a challenge unchallenged bears no change! What marks the make of a man, if not the determination to confront that which he fears? To bask in the triumph of heroism comes not from a common path, but by the path less traveled. A journey of growth—"
A heavy sigh escaped him, interrupting her speech as her cheeks huffed at his dismissiveness, but his elbows had rested loosely against the table, hands stretched in an honest offering,
"I'm not a hero, Nagi." he noted softly, almost afraid to disappoint her.
Reality simply wasn't as perfect as all that.
It was a beautiful escape, but in the end, that's all it was.
And the truth…the truth could be rather ugly.
"Tomonami can do anything without a fault because he's designed that way. He has all the answers. He knows what to do. But in the UG…RG…it doesn't work like that. That's the thing about fantasy…it's fake." he murmured with a wince, shrugging ever so lightly, "And, unfortunately, I'm real."
"—That's what makes you great!"
He froze at the suddenness of her grip, his knuckles encased by the very palms that had wreaked so much damage nearly a year ago to rid the noise on their streets…and her gaze so incredibly strong he felt all but intimidated by the tenacity in her eyes.
Eyes that believed in him.
Eyes that trusted him.
Eyes that accepted him with every flaw he could muster. The rust colored gaze that had softened to a beautiful blend of hazel over time, warm and encompassing, passionate and structured…and real.
The tension had risen to an uncomfortable level, and yet, he was unafraid…nearly willing to test such waters as his eyes had locked on hers, uncertain of what message they were sending.
—a compliment…straight from the soul and so…genuine. It provided a sense of security, assuring and comforting.
Was…this what it was like to bare the psyche?
Like a slap from reality, it had stunned him cold, and yet, the warmth had filled his chest, his hands, his feet…possibly to the tips of his ears and beyond, unsure of how much inner static could build before it exploded. The doors had been swung open, and for the first time in years, he hadn't the urge to shut them.
Instead, he welcomed her in, guided her through the narrow paths of hurt and discord to the quieter recess of his mind where only he had been allowed to cross. And in the safety of this place, he had brushed the strands from her cheek with a smile, inviting her to share in his gaze as he found her lips sweet, tasting of freedom, and the world would have faded into an abyss where only they existed, warm and protected.
But his true gaze fell to her hands, finding he had easily curled his fingers along her tips, and with gentle ease, he had rotated them upward, unable to let go…and she hardly noticed.
His mind seemed to scramble, unsure of where to go from there, until he found himself speaking quietly, closing his eyes,
"N-Nagi, can I ask you something?"
Her voice was just as quiet,
"…You may."
His brows pressed in deep concentration, but he simply whispered.
"…Can I count on you?"
Her eyes analyzed the angles of his face, and the curve of his cheek, and faced the undeniable fact that the young man before her wasn't the same boy she had met just over a year ago. Perhaps, they had been the same person at one time, but the metamorphosis had blessed him beautifully, whether he had noticed or not.
Mind. Body. Spirit.
EleStra was a wonderful distraction.
But baring witness to such growth in such a personal way…it was almost…
…intimidating.
Human kind had always been such an enigma to her. And perhaps she had closed herself off from such interactions because…the elements were in a controlled environment within the confines of her game. But, to trust another…and to be open with them…it was…
…surreal.
"…in what context?" she questioned softly, head tilting ever so slightly as his eyes opened to meet hers,
"If something happens. If it doesn't happen. For…anything? Can I…count on you?"
She seemed uniquely curious of the question —as if he were asking permission to trust her with a gentle squeeze to her fingertips, and she would have given a solid reply had he not tilted her hands closer in that moment, caressing a gentlemen's kiss upon the flat of her hand.
The action surprised her.
Perhaps, he had learned something from Lord Tomonami, after all.
But, she hadn't prepared. The question was nearly long forgotten in their matched gaze, the glow had risen up her neck, and his lips had parted to share another thought as his own face changed hue—
"Are we…interrupting something?"
The gentle tug on her hands released as Fret's palm flew over the back of his seat, and the other propped his cheek,
"Shoka? Rindude! What are you two doin' in this nick of the woods?"
The earnestness of his voice had coated over with a sweet melody, a Cheshire grin curving along the mask, and the other two were none the wiser as Nagi chose to sit on her hands, monitoring life just outside the window.
The previous leader of the Wicked Twisters seemed lost in his phone as usual, though the conversation carried as normal, his thumb sifting through his screen,
"Oh, we were in the area. Shoka's still filling her index for FanGO. Her original account was deactivated, so…"
"Making up for lost time. You know how it goes." Shoka shrugged, her nimble eyes hovering over Nagi and the mess along the table. A sixth, seventh, and eighth sense kicked in, though Rindo continued on, rather clueless,
"You two both in the area?"
Shoka's arms crossed, brows flattening as Fret chuckled, thumbing toward himself,
"You know me an' Nagi meetin' up is never an accident. I've got progress reports, remember?" the young man noted as he lifted his phone and wiggled it, "It's…actually pretty good. Wasn't hard to get hooked."
Parting her lips, Shoka thought against prodding the girl, and instead yanked Rindo's sleeve, "I'm gunna get on line. I could go for a snack."
Her tone delivered the message simply enough as Rindo broke from his phone and glanced between the two, sensing the odd vibe suddenly sinking in. Fret merely slid the tall glass toward himself, arching a brow, "Boss, you shouldn't waste food like this. Good thing you have me around."
A fourth of the dairy drink went down, though Nagi had hardly noticed the gulp he had taken, nor the creamy mustache smeared along his lip. And she wasn't certain when the others had left, or, more precisely, gotten on line, far from prying any further. It was only when she realized it had gotten quiet once more that the background filler of the real world had ceased to prolong the inevitable any longer.
Her hazel eyes blinked as a young boy threw a frisbee, and his dog caught it. And just like that, she realized life truly could be that simple. Cause and effect.
"…Yes." she murmured, and her gaze trailed from the outside world back to Fret, his actions frozen in sipping the remnants of her forgotten treat,
"Mm?"
Her fingers pressed along the edge of the table, cautious, but certain.
"You can count on me."
The glass lowered, empty.
And the stoic gaze he held on her grew into something quite warm, gentle and grateful for the patience he only wished he had. Tucking his arms along his sides, he glanced at the glass, "Sorry…by the way." he uttered softly, "I know you had somethin' planned toda—"
"Never you mind that."
Her answer was swift, and dared him to regret this moment once more, but he was a creature of learned nature, and his smile softened, thumbing along his upper arm.
"So…same time, next week?"
Nagi's eyes held question, tilting her head,
"But…you've triumphed all quests and…we've a month or so before the next release."
His smile never wavered, eyes linking with hers,
"…I know."
Her gaze shifted between his for the moment, and rubbing along the top of her hand, she found he had earned a tiny smile, gentle and true. Perhaps, just this once, EleStra could wait.