6
Shirayuki opens her mouth to respond, but no words spring forth. Then the memory of that night washes over her like a plunge into icy water, sending a fresh wave of chills flooding throughout her body. She rocks back onto her heels as her frustration drains away.
Thinking hard.
Thinking fast.
Say something, Shirayuki.
Hurry up and think of something to say, or else this time he might actually do it.
Obi repeatedly clenches his hands into fists, trying to hide how badly they're shaking. Manages to stay standing, despite his knees threatening to give way. Forces himself to maintain eye contact, even though the scar is right there. Especially since the scar is right there.
Accept the consequences, Obi.
She's been living with the reminder of your failure carved into her face for the better part—no, the worse part—of the past three years.
"I—I messed up," he nearly chokes on the words. "I'm sorry."
Shirayuki seizes the opening. "We ALL messed up! You, me, Zen… There's a hundred things we could have—should have done differently!" She'd played though so many different scenarios in her mind, those first few weeks back in Clairnes. What might have made a difference. What might have changed the outcome. What might have prevented it all in the first place. But, did it even matter, in the end? The what-ifs? The might-have-beens?
"You did everything you could, Obi!" This, Shirayuki says with certainty. Because once that chain of events cascaded into motion, the fact that she was rescued at all was a miracle.
"I should have done more!" Obi insists. He should have checked the perimeter again that night. Should have sealed the doors on the balcony, made them impossible to open from the outside. Should have moved her to a more secure location the moment the letter arrived. Should have immediately called for guards. Shouldn't have let her try and talk to Kazuki. Should have gone directly for a crippling blow.
"You followed as soon as you woke up!" That, Kiki told her about later—how Obi ran down Itoya on foot, tracking him by moonlight. How he used the walnut stone trinket to lead Zen and the others to rendezvous with the Mountain Lions. How he entered the pirate's harbor fortress alone to look for her. How he delivered Kiki to the Talon's ship, so she wouldn't be alone anymore. How he stood between her and that ship full of pirates, so Zen could bring her to safety.
And he honestly thought he should have done more?
"I shouldn't have gotten distracted in the first place!" He had glanced away for an instant, one single instant, afraid a third assailant was about to enter the room. That was all Itoya needed. The memory of Miss screaming his name as he blacked out and hit the floor still haunted him.
"It was two against one!" How could they have known that Itoya was capable of fighting on even footing with Obi? That Kazuki would drug her? That neither would wait to hear what she had to say?
"That doesn't matter!" Master sent him to Tanbarun, trusting him to protect her even when weapons were not permitted or not available. If he couldn't even manage to do his job properly, then what good was he?
"It wasn't your fault, Obi!" Why didn't he understand?
"Yes it was!" She should never have experienced any of that. Those horrifying things that harden a person's heart. Miss's heart deserved to stay soft and sweet and kind.
"Umihebi did this, not you!" Shirayuki jabs a finger at the scar. This. This was why she decided to cover it in the first place. To keep it a secret.
"She should never have gotten the chance!" How had Miss ever forgiven him—how could she possibly feel anything but resentment for what he let happen?
"I NEVER BLAMED YOU!" Shirayuki erupts.
And Obi staggers back, alarmed in the face of her sudden fury.
"But, if you want to blame yourself, FINE! Go ahead! I can't... I can't stop you." Shirayuki lowers her gaze to the floor, gulping down several mouthfuls of air.
"It's not like my thoughts matter to you."