Night 52: Main Hallway, 1-East

[itneverwas]

[From here]If there was one piece of vital information that Xemnas had already grasped during his short stay here, it was that the second floor's main corridor was usually one that was guarded. As the Sun room, it was a center area that was often traversed by the various patients confined within these walls, making it rather logical to position

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[windstwilight]

Now, Senna couldn't claim to know everything about everyone--hell, she knew close to nothing about herself, and the little that was known was half because of, you know, being hooked up to a torture device in order to kill her and destroy two worlds. But you get the gist. Point being, Senna wasn't one to assume things about people too much; people always had a tendency to surprise you. Soma being a robot pilot. Alita being a princess. Meche and Hokuto being dead. Reid's eyes. Peter's... Well. His Peterness. Hell, even Roland.

But things start to paint a picture after awhile, even if it isn't a picture you like too much. Initials, a number, the possible self-hatred and the boy's own stoicism--much too much for one his age. The fucking gun, for crying out loud. It spoke of soldiers, was what it said. Not being allowed to have friends... The more she thought, the more his words came back to her.

So she replied automatically, and without thinking. "It is my concern, Nigredo. You're my friend."

To the shade, she had no words. She had a feeling it'd continue no matter what she said.

[falseblack]

He couldn't help the hesitation. Those words swirled around in the child's brain like ice water on flesh, and he could not comprehend the points raised. Nigredo had admitted no differently the night before: death was a conclusion, wanted in more ways than even the thought of his father could provoke. He needed to kill the being who happened to share everything but temperament. Maybe even that. This tone touched close to what the child had heard on previous occasions, passed to himself in an attempt for discipline and control.

But why? Why speak of sentiments he already knew? There existed no reason in the repetition, especially in front of a stranger--no, a friend. And she had to echo thoughts, too. It wasn't like he had never heard her the first time.

His arms lowered a fraction of an inch, and the variant chose silence as an answer.

This seemed only to prompt his mirror, who canted a head to one side to better glance at the figures. "Maybe," he murmured, "but she is not yours. You're only tolerating her because she is a little weird. Excuse me, 'unique'." Here, the shadow made a face, scrunching his lips as if withholding laughter. "Once she shows that she can't be trusted--that she is really your enemy--you'll kill her, right? I mean, don't you think they're all the same? Just like Father. And the standards. Citrine and Albedo. Or--"

The barrel tilted sharply upward toward the ceiling, gunfire echoing in the hallway, smoke and powder and debris filling the air. "Don't!" He could not understand the line of logic, but he knew more than enough to want it to stop. "Don't talk about them..." Like that. In front of someone else. Now.

[windstwilight]

And, of course, she was right. It continued talking, and Senna was surprised when the words stung. Not the basis on her personality--she'd heard worse. But the simple sentence that she wasn't his friend. It was a stupid reaction, especially when the shade seemed to turn words around, but she frowned all the same, eyes casting downward.

Only to dart back up again at the gunfire. The halted sentence which had sped along in a frantic motion. There was a telltale blur in the back of her mind, prompting recollections she didn't have, but she focused on what was happening. On what was right now. She couldn't let even her misbegotten memories overtake her.

The blur worsened to a dull roar and her eyes unfocused briefly. To snap back into acuity a moment later. The solution was simple, right? If it was. The thing was here. So they shouldn't be. Her mind shifted between brief snapshots, memories unclear, and her focus wavered. There was something in this, a familiarity of nights before. And that was?

Helplessness, of course. Being helpless to help the people that Senna cared about. While they got hurt or upset or worse, and she couldn't do anything at all. Nothing.

She stepped closer to Nigredo, leaning down. "Let's go," she said softly. "We don't have to be here. And you don't have to listen to it." She glanced backwards before looking back solemnly. "Nothing is set in stone."

[falseblack]

Neither boy responded initially. Both appeared locked in a stalemate, though each conveyed the fact in opposite directions. The first stood confident in his assurance, as though he had alerted his audience of a truth previous unknown. The second held none of the sort. Instead, he seemed stuck on a single point, the aforementioned question of why. What was the purpose?

When Senna spoke, he barely recalled the contents of her sentences. She made as much sense as the query in his head, which he supposed is what came when you found yourself a step away from being lost. Still, likely because she hadn't tried to take the weapon away, Nigredo allowed himself to relent. A bit. He slowly lowered his hands to his side.

Another might have expected Nigredo's shadow to fill in the gaps and mock the decision to listen. To even his surprise, it was the original who opted to speak. "You don't have to be here," he said, voice barely above a whisper. "I can't leave."

[windstwilight]

There was silence for a moment, and she thought then that maybe Nigredo would agree with her. He lowered the gun, and the shade remained quiet. Nigredo was the one who spoke; the boy in front of her was the one who declined.

It wasn't something she wanted, but it seemed like it was what Nigredo truly believed. This kid. She slid a hand out to reach for his shoulder--nothing like force, just a gesture of contact. Maybe comfort. Senna smiled slightly. "I'm going to be wherever you are tonight, okay? I can show you those ruins some other time. We can just hang out tonight." A beat. "I won't push it. But you can, you know. Leave."

[falseblack]

All that she questioned, it seemed, was capability. Otherwise, Senna appeared intent on keeping his company, regardless of the insinuations she might have procured from his mirror. It was foolish to question why; by now, Nigredo understood this individual was, as so eloquently put, "a little weird". She would probably stick close unless the child painted her presence as unwanted, which despite a claim of tolerance and possible shifts, was the opposite of what he truly felt.

Like before--like how it would likely be until everything stopped--the line of thought was derailed by the one standing behind them. "You don't understand, do you?" His tone touched on pleased, probably for the perceived ignorance. Nigredo's grip on the weapon tightened on instinct. "I'm Nigredo. I'm as every bit a part of him as he is of me. You don't just leave yourself."

That was the crux of the matter, wasn't it?

"Besides," he continued, "I am the only one he has. Even if he loved you more than anything else in existence, he will still choose me over you. He will reject everything to keep his peace of mind." The 'child' stepped nearer, leaning dangerously close to the older girl. His next words, however, were address to Nigredo himself. "Why don't you tell her? Tell how you killed your father because you didn't want to lose yourself."

[windstwilight]

Nigredo said nothing, and in the silence, the other spoke. Making up for the breather from a minute ago. And if Nigredo was calm and quiet, this one was the opposite, and Senna had to say--she preferred the normal Nigredo. Because this one’s rants were just…. She had half a mind to just ignore, but when it leaned in, she reached out and flicked it in the forehead. “Yeah, yeah, whatever. You gotta learn that some people don’t care what you have to say.”

The girl sighed loudly, leaning a hand on her hip. “Don’t talk to me if you want a reaction. It’s Nigredo’s business how he feels, right? And nothing’s constant anyway.” Which was how Senna lived, and probably the only way she could. If that was not a permanent fact, the girl would not be able to move. She shook her head, rolling her eyes. “Besides, actions in the past don’t define the future.” True or false to the words, this was accurate. “So who cares what happened? It matters what happens now.”

Senna was talking to the shade the whole time, but she hoped to hell that Nigredo was at least listening. Kid had issues, more than he was willing to say, but even if some of that stuff was true. It wasn’t for her to hold judgments on him--her, of all people. People lived and existed, struggled to maintain themselves in sometimes wretched ways, and Senna knew that. More than anyone. "Keeping your self," she murmured. "Is more important than almost anything."

Because Senna had let go, hadn't she? She had decided to die rather than remain to watch others die. But that... Was neither here or there.

[falseblack]

The shadow might have felt the flick against his forehead, but any evidence remained hidden. He returned to proper posture, expression locked in amusement like he didn't even care another had rejected his words. Nigredo had knew as well as he knew the features of his own hand: it was not Senna the shadow wanted a reaction from.

They were working, too, even as nothing was expressed. Though the boy remained silent, the veins inside hardened, blood flowing like ice. He never wanted anyone to know of Yuriev's death, and yet, his own shortcomings brought at least two to the fact. Never had the wish for an end been more fervent until this instant. Maybe it should be his own head Nigredo should aim for, promise and brothers aside.

Then, Senna spoke again. And unlike Albedo, she made no careless affirmation of his actions, no acceptance of a murder without rethinking how the positives might be worse in the end. No, she was letting his business be his without condemnation, and somehow, that mattered enough. Moving against himself suddenly seemed faulty. Being hurt enough to act was more dangerous.

Instead, he took Klavier's advice to heart. He went to examine the why, in a way that betrayed his true age and intent. "Are you," Nigredo began, hesitating once as he realized the intended question was not correctly worded. His gaze flickered over the dark figure behind Senna before returning. "Do you really want to be my friend?"

[windstwilight]

And here was the truth of everything, wasn't it? Senna could understand in an abstract way. There were certain truths--maybe one's own selfishness or maybe a murder to save yourself. Maybe something else altogether. There were certain truths that shifted the entire world. A belief of being unloved for one's actions, maybe. A need to hide the truth of what they were in fear of being rejected and abandoned.

...Yes. Senna could understand that entirely. More than almost any.

She glanced over to Nigredo, raising her eyebrows lightly, almost amused. But she smiled reassuring, nothing but ease in the expression. “I am your friend, Nigredo. You just have to choose if you want to be mine.” She watched him carefully, serious. “I’ll stand by you, if you let me.” Because no one should have to be alone. Least of all, for her reason. “I’m not going to walk away.”

[falseblack]

Nigredo could hear the retort before the response. If anything was to be said of that one, it was that he was quite efficient in conveying doubts. "Why bother?" he asked. "Everyone is the same."

They were. She probably was herself, and the chance was high Senna did not understand the consequences of those words. She, however, had not hesitated. More importantly, she had stood by her statements. So far, at any rate.

A strained silence transpired for a single minute, before the child nodded. Without further prompting, he holstered his gun, speaking quietly in the process. "I'll explain everything he said," began Nigredo, "in the morning. But please--" He inhaled, the breath taken in with difficulty. "--keep this to yourself."

[windstwilight]

She almost ignored the shadow, but if it was part of Nigredo, it was something to be addressed. So she shrugged loosely, nonchalant. "A lot of people are the same. A lot of people are crappy people who'll leave you in the dust. But you know that's not always true. People have a tendency to surprise you, even people that you wouldn't expect it from. So you can't judge it till you see it."

But past misconceptions could shift behavior. Like a training device, bad experiences could set the bar for everything else. If she took that to be the fact in this case, something that made sense with the conversations that they'd had before, then a lot more fit into place. And she almost hated the understanding, because it wasn't something that the boy had given her. She had gotten the information cheaply, without his approval, and it almost gave her a feeling like she had to make it up. Or, at the very least, prove his darker self wrong.

And as if he knew her thoughts, Nigredo spoke. And instantly Senna shook her head, reaching a hand to his shoulder. "Don't bother if you don't want to, Nigredo. If you want to tell me, I'll listen, but don't feel like you have to explain anything. Your secrets and your emotions are your own, right?" The girl smiled. "I'd rather you tell me when you want to. And I'm not going to say anything, silly."

[falseblack]

Acknowledgment and clarification might have appeased the shadow, albeit the end of a continuation remained up in the air. He simply shrugged, sticking to silence.

Nigredo, on the other hand, despite staying as quiet as the other, heard more than necessary. Took in less than perhaps was intended, but it was more than enough. The child could see the effort: Senna was not attempting to dismiss the issues altogether.

As for what they happened to be addressing, he had to be taken care of. "I want to tell you," Nigredo answered, his voice dull. "I don't enjoy misunderstandings, for one. For another--" There was an abrupt silence. Something didn't strike as quite right. "In any case, it's impossible to leave...it. What do we do?"