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[She tries her best to keep an even tone, she really does. But it's a little harder when she thinks about their heart-to-heart in Lyrabar, and it still comes out weighty with sadness and a little petulant. She wants to ask why didn't you tell me, but she thinks about the reasons she might hide something like this and so she doesn't, not yet.] When did it happen?

[ The moment Alex receives her message, he freezes up. The thought to ignore it doesn't even pass through his mind, because why would you do that, to Sayori? His mouth goes dry...but he musters up a response, anyway. ]

Few days after Wonderland. When everyone was still...you know. Recovering.

[...yeah, she gets why he would have kept it to himself for a while without him having to explain. Still, it stings thinking about how long it's been; would he have ever told her if Maya hadn't spilled the beans?

Worse than that, though, is knowing the heartache he's been hiding. She's quiet for a moment, clearly considering her words, but in the end she's more sad than hurt.] ...I'm really sorry. Everything was already so awful, and then...

[And then this, right after finally escaping that horrid place.]

[ Alex hates this. After Wonderland, he hadn't wanted to make anyone hurt like that again. They were all supposed to have some time to relax. But then this.

And Monika, and another set of arrivals comes and goes and his heart in his throat (at least he knows who to miss oh god what if someone he forgot shows up here, what if they're here and he doesn't--)

and Alex takes a quick, short breath to try and calm his thoughts before they get away from him. ]

Yeah. [ Something more than that, idiot. ] ...Yeah. That's...about the shape of it. I was goin' to...to check on Erika, and... Yeah.

[That's not even remotely close to the whole story and she knows it. But she can ask Ogata for that if she needs to. It will probably be easier for him to tell it than it would be for Alex.

Ugh, thinking about that makes her feel sick. How could anyone feel okay about doing this?

She takes a breath too.] ...so you lost something. Right?

[She words it carefully. He can tell her what it is if he wants to, and if he doesn't want to them he doesn't have to go through the trouble of saying he won't tell her.]

[ In that moment, as he's too slow to pull away from his bracer and it catches the sharp, horrible intake of breath he takes involuntarily, as the warmth drains from his arms and a dull buzz of white noise chokes his ears-

That should tell Sayori all she needs to know, about the true reason he hasn't been very forthcoming about this whole mess.

A moment of breathing. Just breathing. ]

Right. [ And breathless. Both, at once. He breathes, but none of it does anything. He's still like this. ] Right, I did.

...

[Yeah, she gets it.

Whatever he lost is too horrific to speak of.

The nauseous feeling in her stomach intensifies with the sharp stab of pain in her chest.]

I can come see you. In person. [Once again, worded carefully, though not as carefully as the last, the concern too obvious in her wobbling voice.]

[ It's impossible to ignore that slip, but oh, part of Alex wants to. If he can just package that part away, maybe, maybe it won't ache every day. If he can just never talk about it, maybe the overwhelming guilt will stop.

That's foolish, and he's known this whole time; nothing, not a single thing, will ever give him that relief. ]

I'm not-- [ No, it sticks in his throat, a wet and sticky sound as he coughs. It's like he's choking on black sludge all over again. ] Don't... Sayori, it's gonna--

[ His voice catches and skips, from a low, scratchy voice close to the regular register, to a cracked squeak that would probably be funny, in other circumstances. ]

Room. [ It's the closest to a verbal agreement he can get out. A mumbled, muffled word, hidden by his hand as he pinches the bridge of his nose, tight as possible. ]

[She's braced for him to say no before he starts speaking. And in the middle, she's already deciding whether she's going to ignore his "no" because he obviously shouldn't be alone with this.

Thankfully, she doesn't have to make that decision, because he changes his mind.] Okay. I'll be right there.

[Good thing Wash has made her do her cardio.

She doesn't waste any time, jumping whole flights of stairs with Feather Fall and probably reaching floor Prosperitas in record time. It's only a few minutes between her sending her message and her arrival.

She knocks when she reaches Alex's dorm, and at the same time:] It's me.

[ Honestly? Alex was going to say no. He's sort of shocked he didn't, but the guilt's really the tipping point, isn't it? Keeping quiet isn't easy. He hates it, honestly.

So, the guilt, that's something he can very quickly interface with and understand, something that pushes his severe desire to not talk about it aside.

Does he really want to let more people down?

That knock's sooner than he expected. He jumps, from where he's standing, by that...strange, ugly amalgam of scrap metal that he'd been toting around last month. Something to make the room less drab, less rambles and notes taped to the wall above his bed.

(God, he's glad his roommate's out--)

Alex wets his lips. His eyes are locked on the sculpture instead, one finger tapping its question mark shaped head. It bounces back and forth lightly. ]

Ye- yeah. It's open.

[She lets herself in and remembers, too late, her plan to announce her arrival with less sudden sounds. She'll apologize later. She's not sure even the gentlest approach would have helped with Alex in the state he's in, though.

She didn't even put shoes on. The steps of her bare feet are distinctive as she crosses the floor to approach Alex. And she sees the notes, the things scattered around that make this room his and the strange sculpture she'll ask about later, but she's focused solely on him as she tentatively reaches a hand out to brush it against his shoulder.]

[ Alex doesn't pull away. When Sayori touches him, though, she can hear a deep intake of breath. He doesn't turn to see her, yet.

The shoulder Sayori doesn't touch is occupied by Beaky, who is preoccupied preening his hair, like a good bird. Her human's distressed. She'll do what she can. She glances at Sayori and clicks her beak gently. This is good. This is good for her to be here.

...However, it doesn't seem like he's going to say something. Not yet, at least. What to say, what-- ]

I really didn't wanna hide it. [ Ah. Maybe starting there. Maybe-- ] I jus' didn' wanna think about it.

[ His voice is all air, no substance. Like it's impossible for him to force sound through his throat. ]

[Sayori peers over at Beaky. She's not an expert on bird body language, but she does figure that animals, especially magic soul animals, tend to know the score. If Alex didn't want her here, it would be obvious.

She extends her hand further to lightly skim her knuckle over the feathers at Beaky's neck in thanks. And then she rests it on Alex's other shoulder properly. Her expression is soft and searching, just the slight downward tilt of her mouth showing her concern, but her grip is firm with assurance.

It's not like his reasoning is crazy. That was part of it all, when she kept what Miss Zarves told her under lock and key until Wonderland dragged it out in the worst way. She gets it, really.

But...]

...did it work? [There's no judgment in the question, only gentle, genuine curiosity.]

[ There's no verbal response. Alex just shakes his head with a loud, rough sniffle, not looking at Sayori.

No. It could never work. To not think about it would mean to not feel guilty, every second of every day. Even with part of his very soul removed, the guilt festered, just...differently.

Alex will always carry the guilt with him. Always. ]

[Yeah. That's what she thought. Even when she's able to find distractions from her own darkness, it always creeps back in again the moment there's space in her mind.

She wishes she could have been there for him earlier.

She doesn't ask permission out loud this time, but the motion of her hand towards his waist is tentative, her offer of a hug silent.]

[ For weeks, Alex has tried to hold it in. Since that first time he awoke and realized what was missing. But, now? He simply can't anymore. That gentle touch is all it takes for him to choke out a sob and sink to sit on the bed they're standing by. It means he can all but bury himself in Sayori's embrace. ]

[It's a distant thought compared to the instinctual concern that overwhelms her, but in the back of her mind, she remembers thinking the first time that she could give him a better hug if only she were a little taller.

She shuffles closer to the bed and tucks him into her arms, resting her chin on top of his head and running her fingers through his hair. There's no Oath connecting them, but she'd have to be numb not to feel the rattle of this raging storm. A deep breath fills her lungs and she counts to three, boards up the windows and grabs her flashlight...

She'll keep standing for this one, she thinks.]

[ To give Sayori more room, Beaky leaves Alex's shoulder and sets down carefully on the top of the sculpture, making its spring sway back and forth. She watches over them as Alex's arms wrap around Sayori with an almost guilty cry.

He's had a lot to think about, hasn't he? It's kind of nice to just cry...but it still hurts, all the same. ]

[How many times will the world rip this gash back open, she wonders? How many times will Alex have to grieve anew at the whims of things like the Raven Queen, or Adrian, or a gunman with no empathy? How many times will this ice cold wind shake the battered foundations of his being?

Another deep breath. One, two, three.

She strokes her hand through his hair in a soothing rhythm and closes her eyes.] It's okay.

[Not his situation, but this. His grief. The tears he needs to shed for all the things carved out of him. At least she isn't projecting the dull, thudding ache of her own heart onto him. She repeats her words to him from Shadowdale—softer, and yet heavier.] ...feel what you need to.

Edited 2019-11-08 05:55 (UTC)

[ I'm sorry, he wants to say. For keeping all this inside. For taking too many chances with himself, even though he knew what it'd do to the people around him. For the way what's hurt him...seems to keep hurting all of them, too.

But he can't. He can just breathe, and cry, and frankly he barely has the energy for even that.

Eventually, he'll let a word slip from his mouth, something... A pained admission. ]

I can't... I can't remember... [ It feels horrible to be mourning this, to Sayori of all people. But, perhaps... There's something she might be able to understand. ] I lost them.

[ If he can just find a moment's peace to explain. ]

[Her heart drops into her stomach.

The sound of static, blurry faces, her own voice distantly in her ears: Why can't I remember? Her understanding of her life before the Bureau crumbling before her, amongst the uncaring currents of the sea, inside of a jellyfish that held everything.

When she opens her eyes, her vision has blurred with gathering tears.

At least the way she's holding him, Alex can't see them. There's a wobble in the breath she takes, but it's the sacrifice of steadying her voice before she speaks.] All of them?

[Vague, but encompassing multiple questions: which people? Which pieces of those people?]

[ He shakes his head. This is a conversation in half-filled jigsaw puzzles, and Sayori's got so few pieces. But he's trying, he's trying very hard to give her the rest of them. ]

I- when I... When made that thing mad...and I didn't die. [ His heart's pounding. Sayori can definitely feel him trembling. His hands dig into the back of her shirt. ] I saved...six other people. But...two-hundred...eighty-seven others, they still... [ Burned, fried, fell. ] Some of 'em were...my... My classmates, my friends, I didn't- I didn't know, I woulda tried harder, if I knew they were going to--

[ Not important, not important not important not important-- He chokes in trying to take a breath to calm himself down. ]

But... But when I woke up, after- when I tried to- all except four of 'em, I can't- [ He doesn't like thinking about it, that day, gathered at the airport with a gaggle of people who don't exist for him, anymore, don't exist except- ]

The only thing I can remember is how they died.

[Two hundred eighty seven.

Two hundred eighty seven people, all wiped away from the only person left to remember them.

Her stomach turns as the weight of this sinks into her shoulders. Her voice is barely a whisper, raw, horrified words that slip out without her realizing.] Oh my God.

[This is what he's been dragging around for the better part of a month. Has she even met two hundred eighty seven people? Does she have that many faces in her own memory? He said they weren't all his friends, but—

Her arms around him tighten and she turns her head to bury her face in his hair.] I'm so sorry.

What if it happens again? What if I lose the rest of 'em, Tod, or Clear, or fucking Carter, fuck, I keep trying but everything- everything's static, the names, the faces, my whole... just about my whole fucking French class, and Tod's- s-something, someone important to him, but I can't remember how, and she- there's no way to get it back, I asked, not unless I wanna go- go hunt down people like me, people who...who made fate mad, not unless I wanna do that for the rest of my ff- fucking life--

[ Though it's centered at his hands, his whole body's shaking now. And he's rambling, unable to stop the thoughts spilling out his mouth. He doesn't remember who he's talked to Sayori about. She has...so little context for all of this, and he's sorry for pouring it all onto her, breathing heavily at her stomach. He really is.

But he can't seem to stop. ]

[She doesn't have an answer for any of this, and she's pretty sure Alex doesn't expect one. It's that same helpless feeling as when she held Mista, of wondering just how deep the trench she's staring into goes, wondering if there's even a bottom past the point where even the brightest light can no longer reach.

She forces herself to relax enough to resume the motion of her hand through his hair, just praying that the rhythm will help to anchor him. And even though he's rambling, even though she doesn't understand it all, she listens. Her journal is filled with things like this, especially the pages that document Wonderland, every word of every awful thought scrawled in a frantic, desperate need to let it out without choking on the tar in her soul. She doesn't know what else to do to help, but she understands this.

So she lets him talk for a while, at least until it seems he needs to stop to breathe, and very suddenly, she remembers the one other thing she's good at in this world full of orphaned people. She interjects, but only in the gentlest way.] Alex?

[And continuing, quickly:] You can keep going if you need to. It's okay. [And she means it.]

But, when you— when you need to stop. Do you...want to hear a poem?

voice, shortly after ogata's post; un: dearsunshine

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