NINETEEN
It's been a while since she last thought of that time.
There was a lot of… badness. But she prefers to think of the brightest parts—seeing Kirika and Shirabe go back to school, which had been a dream of hers since they had first been pulled out of elementary school. Also, meeting Tsubasa.
She didn't know the shy, nervous girl who had clung to Kanade's hand, just as Tsubasa didn't know the crybaby who had hidden behind Serena. Already, at that fateful time, they were rigorously-defined, seemingly immutable.
Of course, they can't completely erase their past selves from their minds. Young Tsubasa makes appearances often enough, and so does young Maria.
Like right now—crying over events long gone, long resolved. Or, maybe she's crying because of the sheer power in this handful of photos. Or, she's crying because this is Tsubasa's way of helping, without words. Or, because there is a little girl nineteen miles away who deserves, at this very moment, so much more than what the world has yet shown her.
Alright, yes. She's crying for all of the above and then some.
Tsubasa hands her another tissue.
Craning her head from her position in Tsubasa's arms, she takes a look at the tissue box, because she's pretty sure they should have run out by now. Between the two of them, there's been a lot of crying this evening (more so on her part that Tsubasa, but close enough). But, no, the tissue box still has tissues left.
"It's infinite," Tsubasa murmurs into her ear.
She giggles, not only at the joke but also at the ticklish puff of air that brushes her ear. One last sweep across her eyes, and she feels that she has cried herself to a better place.
Pulling away from Tsubasa's embrace, she says, "We should put these in an envelope."
Tsubasa shakes her head. "No," she reiterates. "They belong in a box."
Considering it, it makes sense. An envelope is too slim for the weight and presence of these memories.
So she rummages around their closet for a box while Tsubasa runs through the selected photos one last time.
"Will this do?" She holds up a plain white box, which she thinks used to hold her pins before she just left them scattered on their vanity.
Tsubasa nods.
Once they have the photos in the box and the box sealed with a bit of tape, she sets it beneath her phone on her bedside table.
She thinks she should invest in more tissues.
She's going to be crying a lot in the upcoming months, and not just sad tears—happy ones, and frustrated ones, too. Elfnein is such a precocious child and probably not prone to mischief, but the frustration of being helpless in the face of the child's fears—yes, that's going to frustrate her a lot.
But let's how this plays out before she starts making plans again.
(How is she supposed to restrain herself? This is significantly more difficult than she had anticipated….)
a/n: Sometimes I wonder if I write parent!TsubaMari well or if it comes off a little awkward, which I think it does.
Guest, I haven't forgotten the humor request; that'll probably come Friday or Saturday when I can really sit down to work it out.
Anyway, please review!