Day 58: Arts & Crafts (Second Shift)

[scintillatingly]

It was impossible for Sora to not be in a good mood when Riku had come back (with his memories intact!). He could only imagine how Kairi was going to react when he found her, and that thought alone put a smile on his face as well. He realized that there were still some things they needed to iron out about their plans, but Riku was already on the

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[purpletaint]

If he was to consider a presence knew to him, she may have been one that he thought of. She was one of the few that registered as one with any value, and he found himself half-fond of her without trying. There was something comforting in the familiar, and was she anything but familiar in the way he knew nothing of her? As she was prone to point out, he did not exist as humans quaintly did. And in the ways he knew her were the ways he needed to. There was space between them that neither were likely to cross, and still there existed an ease of motion, a simplicity fueled by complexity, and he could appreciate it given the chance. Given the choice, perhaps.

He glanced at her from the corners of his eyes, watched her staring. There was a shift there and he couldn't name it, and considered breaching it before allowing it to fade, to come naturally if at all. He wondered if he'd hold to that conclusion.

He shifted to face her, met her expression with a matching one for a moment, before tilting his head near congenially, gesturing to a chair near him with an exaggerated motion.

[she_is_ruin]

If she imagined the end of her life like a roller coaster, that day had been the top of the rise, the peak she'd paused on before Mei and the plummet, Mitogawa and the thundering crash as he threw her off the rails. How exactly had she fallen in with another devious boy just like him? They both looked at her with appraising eyes, like now, from across the room. The first boy had disassembled her in order to put her back together in the way he wanted, and the second would probably do the same if given the chance.

Her eyes pinched at the edges. Her memories were clawing at her like hungry tigers, the sesshouseki the cage that was (barely) holding them back. It was messing with her head.

Yomi stayed rooted to the spot, wanting to back away, turn around, walk out the door, anything to avoid getting more tangled up than she was. What was this place getting out of her being alive!? What was the point, taunting both sides of her? She felt like a puppet that had come to a grinding halt because her hinges had rusted over.

But she couldn't feed the particular emotions that made her want to run away. They weren't--

They weren't important anymore.

Like a sedated person, she finally took one awkward step forward and it was like passing through a veil--her inner balance reset itself, having made up her mind. Albedo was a part of temporary Institute life as it was and that was her current reality, regardless of what the military wanted her to accept.

She stopped in front of the proffered chair and sat down. It was like their escapades in Doyleton had never happened, at least outwardly, where their bodies were concerned.

[purpletaint]

She reminded him of an animal, then. Skittish and likely enough to attack as flee, and while she remained still, he tried to consider the reasons for the lapse. Something had happened, to be sure, but it was nothing to do with him, despite the holding on the current situation. Whether that was true or a lie, he would move conversely. He watched her sit, then backed up, eyes tracing her, then pulled out a seat of his own and lowered himself into it.

Only then did his gaze slip, languidly slip over the table and to the other current residents of the room. "And what have you been up to?" he started quietly, without looking her way. "Have you found anything interesting since we've last met?"

[she_is_ruin]

The memories were fleeting problems. Minor symptoms (of a bigger disease) that would in all likelihood pass soon. Yomi thought if she could leash them, numb herself to them, it wouldn't matter if they made a recurrence while she sat there. They didn't own her. Facing Albedo was her own personal act of defiance--he could question her if he wanted but she'd dare anyone to assign signs of weakness to her and not the Institute's meddling. She was an incomplete being, there was no hiding that, but Tsuchimiya-dono had been wrong.

Clearly, since she had been the one to defeat him in the end.

Given that Albedo had already seen her when Yoshiko had taken over--fragility incarnate--what more was there to judge? He was just a child, anyway, more broken than her.

She was fine with the staring contest; she kept it up after he had finished his scrutiny, though this time she didn't let her expression flinch. She was watching, too, for the cracks. Maybe it would make her feel more justified if she found some.

Don't come back. Don't come back. I don't want to remember.

"Not so much, but then it's only been a day," she reminded him evenly. "Uncovering something worthwhile during the day isn't always the easiest--I'm sure everyone has that feeling, though. After Doyleton, you came back with all of your things?" she asked as a way of confirming the night before last had indeed gone well. Either way, they had matching pins that seemed to indicate that it had. Not to mention the fact that the boy was practically healed, as far as she could see. "As for last night, hmm, well, I did visit the medical wing and accept the Eagle's challenge. Haven't seen the payoff yet."

Pride wasn't one of her strongest feelings. The drugs were another thing she didn't bother to hide from this one, her little confidante.

[purpletaint]

He chanced a grin at her. "It has been a day," he gave. "And yesterday was long." She still seemed... quiet. But what was Albedo to judge against? Weeks worth of light companionship did not make of them bosom comrades, knowing each move in advance. To that thought, he shrugged lightly, leaning back in the chair. "I did. They work fine." The smile was clearer to that line. The spiders were not things Albedo would choose to massacre with his tools, but they were enough for that night. Enough and more, with the effects that the one had given to him for it. His eyes flicked to his forearm with a slight frown, though nothing remained but smooth skin.

Annoying. That at least was clear enough to tell. The spiders had venom, likely to paralyze and disorientate their prey. Of the drugs that Yomi admitted to.... That effect was more guesswork and checks. The boy sighed. "I went as well, though I'm of the opinion that most of the drugs did nothing, and if it did effect, it's separate for each person. Specialized, chaotic; whichever you will." He looked at her pleasantly, an edge at his expression. "For example--"

Here was the test, really. For it was a theory until it was confirmed. He held out his hand, palm up, across the table for Yomi to touch or take.

[she_is_ruin]

"Was it? I didn't notice." All days were long, injuries or no injuries. But at his assessment of his spoils, she smiled, showing dimples. "I'm sure they do."

Finding a way out, finding a way to Shishiou and unlocking the sesshouseki? Those were tasks a bit harder to complete, but as for making progress in gathering weapons, that was going a bit easier and their night in Doyleton had helped. Okita had helped improve her collection as well, and so yet might this unknown concoction business. Small favors.

When he looked at his arm, she did, too, before lifting a brow at his theory. So he had tried his luck the same as her.

"How can you be so sure?" she wondered. To be fair, the boy wasn't stupid--quite the opposite, far brighter than his age might suggest. Among many other things. But if there was evidence to support his opinion, Yomi hadn't seen it yet. She wasn't as convinced the drugs would do nothing--that wouldn't be as fun for the military, would it?--but arbitrary effects did sound about right.

The moment he extended his hand to her, her level of questioning deepened. It wasn't like when he had grabbed her hand--that had been natural. This was calculated.

Touch, was it? Something about his sense of touch had been altered?

"You already know what's going to happen," she accused, a smile at the corner of her mouth. "What is it?"

[purpletaint]

"How can I be so sure?" he echoed, eyes narrowing in something of a pleased expression. "Little to nothing but simple deduction. I traveled with another, and passed a few myself on my travels. As well, the board reeks of those who have tried it--and if one looks closely, it's possible to see differences where there were none."

Certainly the level of deduction wasn't beyond him, but it was a bit more than his current attention span would have held to. He was making a point, after all. Albedo would put the effort in if only to show Nigredo exactly what could be accomplished with the smallest modicum of information flow. If the line tightened and held, perhaps Albedo would continue the venture. Otherwise, after a few days, his participation would be done, and he would return to finding devices to sate his amusement.

When Yomi didn't take the offered bait, he tsked at her, then pouted charmingly. "I don't know, per se. Trying something with one individual is not the same as knowing it to be true for all. What happened before could have just been for that person I interacted with." His grin darkened momentarily--despite the outcome of that interaction, the effects held true. "And I wouldn't want to spoil the surprise."

[she_is_ruin]

All fair observations, some of which she had made herself. But Albedo didn't actually know what drugs caused what reactions, or if they adapted to each guinea pig to create a unique effect. Well, of course, how could he or anyone else under the Institute's thumb? No point being disappointed. All of the most important explanations remained outside of the prisoners' reach.

But it was smart, his breaking down of everything into scientific objectification. She wanted... She almost wished she could do the same. Feel less strongly about her own personal "reaction" to the injection and classify it like the game it was. Just... feel... less. As detached as her outward visage could be, it was different on the inside, where she was privy to her own anxiety and--horror?

He only gave you a push.

"But someone touched you?" Were her lips moving? Yes, they were, and words were coming out, falling out, smooth as ever. "And something unusual happened?" It was a confirmation of what he already knew and what she had guessed. Aguilar's ploy couldn't have caused anything good, could it? Why bother aggravating it?

If there was a trigger to her effect, she had no idea what it could be... and if she did know, it would be something to avoid. Without a doubt.

[purpletaint]

She remained near to neutral, and if not for what he knew already of her, he'd be bored. Instead, he left the amusement halfway, watching her. There was no need to lie, after all. Not to this one. What was given to her were not things so easily used. And she wasn't mortal, after all. If anything, the manipulations she would hold would be something to look forward to if she used them--lacking the simplicity of humans' daily attempts at the game.

Albedo's head tipped to the side, and he blinked casually, holding up the smallest finger on his hand for an example. "Yes. Just the barest touch." And he would not consider the ramifications of that, no; that was not the game to set and match. "A promise to be given ending in something else altogether."

[she_is_ruin]

"So you want me to be responsible for causing it again," said Yomi.

It was a question and at the same time not one. He hadn't said anything, but Yomi thought she knew what would happen if she touched him--something unpleasant for him. Because he had taken a mystery drug, and was paying for it just like her. Suffering for the reward.

The desire to snap her hand out and grab him was almost palpable in her throat. If just a touch was all it took to make someone uncomfortable, how simple a system was that? She had done worse to get a reaction out of someone she loved more dearly. And enjoyed it, too. There was no one exempt from her personal grudge, not even a boy who, though broken himself, hadn't done anything to her before the Institute. Far from it, supposedly being from a world so far removed from her own, she likely wouldn't recognize it.

She still didn't move. There was sludge in her veins.

"Why do I have to work for your little experiment?" she asked, partially teasing. With that, she put her hand on the table, too, palm down. "Go ahead if you want to find out."

[purpletaint]

Albedo smirked, half-childlike and half-not, shrugging as if caught in something meant to be hidden. It was outright, and yet still, it was interesting how she grated against what could be simple. Why was she hesitant to reach out? It was obvious that there was likely a negative reaction--it was this place, after all--but she had no responsibility for his state. One would think it'd be viewed as a game. He found himself wrong, and was mildly intrigued by that.

She put her hand down, close enough to touch easily, and spoke in undulations. His gaze followed her hand and he considered the scenario as it existed presently. Considered if there was meaning behind her refusing the play the game as it had been set.

Easier to see was that she was setting her own game, even if she didn't view it as such. He stared a moment more, gaze thick, and then he blinked, glanced up at her and smiled, the expression lighter. His hand retracted closer to him. "There are other methods," he said, as if this was a conclusion. He was acting contrary to he had before, and Albedo offered no explanation as to the why. He watched her, lips curved. "I like you."

Liked the way she moved in battle, the way blood clung to her skin, the way she existed as inhuman--the way it was capable for her to understand. Little by little--and he would not admit, that he liked how she was willing to reach out when he was in pain.

For they were both monsters, no? And something like that... Was too close to a reveal that he wouldn't allow.

[she_is_ruin]

Again this was going in unexpected directions, but that was the problem with this kid: he wasn't entirely normal, making him predictable only half the time. Being able to predict the other half would take time, time and closeness, neither of which she had. As self-centered as she'd made herself, the not knowing was a small frustration with every meeting.

But she could accept that thorn gladly so long as it stayed small, so long as the drugs didn't kick in and drag her back into the grief and soul sickness, so long as she could just get through this one trial. This one exchange, even.

Yomi was too tired to match his impishness, but his second comment grabbed her attention solely due to the unadorned connotation of the words. "I like you." Didn't he get tired of winding his fellow prisoners up? "Why?" Ah, but that was a humdrum response, and she immediately continued by saying, "You keep getting stranger. Why don't you wait until the drugs run their course to confess to me."

Until she had both feet in the present instead of one foot in the rain-soaked past.

[purpletaint]

Her words only made him grin more. That was a reaction he could appreciate. If anyone else he would have batted his eyes and spoke further, and nearly did still at any rate. But she was something that existed more clearly than those to play games with. "I don't think I'm getting stranger. I think you've just been around me longer."

Despite there being a chance of shifts. He was not the same individual he had been three weeks ago; five. His head tilted as if to consider, though nothing moved across his face. "And mine likely don't adjust my mental or emotional state. It's just a physical reaction. So there's no fallback of a drugged stupor pressing forth words." He blinked at her, the expression near innocent--ruined only by the sharpness of his gaze. "Why?" he asked suddenly, playing at a pout. "Do you not like me?"

[she_is_ruin]

Was he trying to say they weren't the same thing? They were all getting stranger the longer they remained as zoo animals. Yomi's feelings couldn't have been confused over one little boy who was mystified by origami if that wasn't the case.

There were many things Yomi didn't like. His insinuation, for one. What was there left to alter in her? Was she so changeable that one little push could affect her mind? "They're just words," she reminded Albedo, voice low. But it was true, wasn't it--

She'd rocked back on her heels after every blow this place had dealt her, hadn't she? A flinch. Some tears. Pain.

Just a push. He had said he could save her.

"What do you hate?"

She had been holding those eyes, waiting to see if he was looking for other interesting things besides their shared regeneration, when a ripple passed through her. She narrowed her eyes at him, as if he was the source of the discomfort. But he wasn't, not entirely, and the ripple came again, stronger than before, setting everything it touched on fire. With a groan, Yomi pushed back from the table. Not again! I didn't mean it, I didn't mean it...

Her hand vice-like around the back of the chair, she tried to lever herself up but couldn't, leaving her to fall back, breathing heavy and raspy.

[purpletaint]

Just words. But words could be used as tools, far often than not, for wasn't it this: Words could cut him sharper than any knife, more heavy than any hit against him, and the wounds they carried would not heal as easily as the ones of the flesh. Just words, and still, even here, they had meaning. Far more than he'd like, and far more, likely, than even she was willing to admit. He moved to speak in parcel and parts, mouth opening, but here instead, he watched her. Watched carefully as something changed under her skin.

He played back the moment prior and found nothing easily seen as a trigger. Not for the sharper expression, or the groan of discomfort. Or the attempt to move away and instead being locked where she was. His eyes narrowed in half-suspicion, half an odd form of confusion. The boy was silent, methods and options shifting through his mind. There was a chance this was only her, but what else could this be attributed to? There was the option of outside influence, but there was nothing to be known without the details. He blinked, then called quietly, sing-song, "Yomi..."

A name to one who was lost. Oh, yes. Albedo knew this quite well.

[she_is_ruin]

Her throat, it hurt. She remembered the pain like it was yesterday, that boy's clever way of forcing her fury and her guilt into silence. She hadn't even been able to tell Kagura she was sorry.

A cough came out a croak. She couldn't feel the fingers she had against the column of her throat, but they were there, and she could still move, and nothing about this was real. Phantom memories playing havoc. The panic, though, that was real; it kicked in her stomach like a gestating child. Not just hers, but the sesshouseki's, too. The stone was aflutter.

You let Mei die, Yomi thought at it. Why can't you make this go away?

But it wasn't real. No more real than the Institute made it. That day was over. Over. She was healthier than she'd ever been while everyone else was turning to soup in their graves. Didn't that count for something?

Pulling her hand away, she swallowed, making herself feel it.

She was... fine.

Albedo was still there, and she speared him with a glance from the corner of her eye, burning with feelings that didn't totally belong to her. "You know, I think I understand you better now, knowing how easily you can reform yourself from nothing. I had an older sister who was like that, too. It didn't work out any better for her, either. Being so divorced from your own destruction... there's nothing you can do to heal that wound, can you? It keeps festering. No one understands. And then it ruins you."