[THEIR MEMORY BUBBLE!!!! Itsuki looks apologetic, but he doesn't seem too concerned. The memory event has been pretty okay so far (famous last words), still. He reaches up to tap the bubble, emitting a soft blue light.
[the light is dim, and the room feels suffocating. you open a window to let in some air, and the sounds of the ever busy red light district practically assault you.
'it's fine', says the girl lying in bed next to you. 'i like the noise'. she looks familiar -- her hair, eyes, features are all the same as yours, striped with pain and sickness.
You lean in and hold her hand. You can feel the terror in your heart, the same one you always feel when you're with Kazuha. She's dying. You can't do anything to save her. The only doctor who could help her threw you out the last time you went, said something like 'brothel brat' with a sneer that hurt as much as if he had stabbed you. You don't have any more money. You're careful not to tell Kazuha. You don't tell her that you've already agreed to pay off their debts. You don't say anything about the matron, the agreement, the men and women and their lingering gazes.
Instead you ask if she wants a story, and she nods. You pick up the book next to her. 'Cinderella'. You've read this one a thousand times already, but it's one of Kazuha's favorites. At some point she reaches for your hand and you grab it back.
What will happen to you when she's gone? Kazuha is the only person in the world who loves you, and cares for you. Protects you. And there's nothing you can do to help her, not in your threadbare clothes -- not in the brothel that has you both in its iron grip. Not even in the story you're reading to her.
ah. if only you could get sick too, if you could catch it with her, then you could be with her. you've never been without, you two are twins -- meant to be together, no matter how and where. she grabs your hand hard and squeezes, as if she knows what you're thinking.
You can't cry before you finish the story. That's always been the rule. The dream peters out to the sound of your voice, reciting softly.
[ the memory bubbles are no longer a surprise to percy, and as itsuki lifts his hand to touch the bubble, he gives an almost somber nod, uncertain as to what this strange little prison of theirs will give up of his this time. in tandem, an amber light leaves his touch.
there is a boy, and he is lying, broken on the ground. he is dead, and beside him is a small young woman with white hair and golden armor. she's knelt beside the boy, holding gently to her necklace. she is working on setting up a ritual that hopefully may bring this boy back from the dead.
bruised and bleeding, you're sat close by, fixing your gun. the thing is broken after your last misfire and it needs tending to in case anyone else wants to come for your group, an aftermath meant to meet grog unawares perhaps. some of the goliath may still not be happy with the death of kevdak. some may still feel the sting of it. there could be stragglers, there—
you thought keyleth was helping pike with this, but you watch as she tries to bring her earthly healing into the mix. she's tired, spent, and there's a defeated look on her face as pike's brow twitches. she's bearing the brunt of this... she can't...
she can't do it alone.
your friends struggle for a boy broken on the battlefield of torn up cobblestones and dirt. as pike chants in her soft celestial language, known only to her through the everlight, through her training as a cleric, you recognize it from your lessons—
(a memorywithina memory—your sister, ignoring lessons, blowing spit darts at you, loving you even through your grumbling sighs)
—celestial.
you look down at your gun, jammed and broken. it will cost money. time.
the boy... the boy dead on the ground. he doesn't have time.
you had time.
slowly, you holster your gun and rise to your feet. you listen to pike, her sweet voice straining upwards on its own, a plea to the greater gods above, you find yourself opening your mouth and recalling those lessons, where cass would sneak out and leave you to answer eagerly instead. you hum along with the tone of pike's voice, seeing her eyes meet yours, and at once... you both begin to sing.
the sound is... angelic, soft, warm, and as you bring yourself down to your knees, you touch the ground just beside the boy's hand, you take it in your own, and you sing for the first time in a while, in a language you know isn't meant for someone wretched like you, but maybe. maybe you can prove that it has a home here in your throat, as your harmonizing with pike begins to grow, and a third, disembodied voice begins to accompany you, created from the tones that you and pike sing with one another. angelic, pleading, sweet and melodic and foreign, words without words. when you sing, you reach for old hymnals of the dawnfather's ever-loving embrace, the protective boughs of the sun tree holding its beloved people forever and ever, as deep as its roots furrow—
the boy gasps to life.
he sputters.
he lives and you look downwards, ignoring the heat that builds in your face, the pain beneath your eyes. there you go. live another day.
pike looks to you, her eyes soft, tired, but grateful.
"thanks for helping, percy," she says.
you shake your head. "no... that was lovely... thank you."
keyleth jams a potion of healing into the boy's mouth and you help so not a drop spills, wiping his chin with your thumb and holding him steady with keyleth's help.
as the memories, intertwined, begin to fade, percy finds himself grabbing itsuki's hand gently with his own. the dregs of itsuki's sister begin to fade slowly with the words happily ever after, words that feel hopefully in vain. ]
Your sister, [ he says softly ] you would do anything for her, wouldn't you?
[Itsuki watches this memory -- the memory within the memory, the image of Percy smiling as his sister pesters him, interlaced over his expression now, and he can pick up on what's not being said here. The grief, regret, the way Percy works so hard to save this boy. Even if the other details aren't things he's ever seen before -- people coming back to life -- the core emotion of this memory resonates in him.
...His fingers curl around Percy's hand. He understands what's being asked without having to be told, and his heart hurts for it. for him, for percy.]
...Yeah. That's all I wanted then, but...
[his words trail off, but he has a feeling Percy would understand why,]
I thought I would have a little more time to save her.
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week 3 monday
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Your sister, [ he says softly ] you would do anything for her, wouldn't you?
me reading this memory, crying into my ramen
...His fingers curl around Percy's hand. He understands what's being asked without having to be told, and his heart hurts for it. for him, for percy.]
...Yeah. That's all I wanted then, but...
[his words trail off, but he has a feeling Percy would understand why,]
I thought I would have a little more time to save her.