Spike's definitely out of his comfort zone: gun under virtual lock and key (which means no clip loaded), lighter tucked away safely, and... he has no fucking idea what to expect
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A moment after the sound of the front door being opened and shut again, comes the patter of a child running towards him. "ONIIISAN!!" she calls.
Out of breath, she stops right in front of him and without a moment of hesitation, places her hands flat on his lap so she can peer into his eyes. Satisfied with what she sees, (that it really is Spike!... His hair is the same color as Setsuna-mama's, more-or-less), she quickly breaks out into a grin and wraps him as much as she can, unabashfully, in a huge hug.
Hotaru hands clasp together before her, "Yes! That'd be so cool."
Shouldn't I be worried about still being here?
She's smiling brightly, and the smile begins to fade gradually.
....No, because...
It's gone completely, and her hands are placed upon her lap, politely folded. They'll just have to understand. I have priorities. My own missions to take care of.
"Oniisan," Hotaru starts, her hands fidgeting a bit in her lap.
We all have things we're sorry for, imoutosan. He watches as her smile fades and her hands fold serenely, like there's some contest she's fighting with herself.
And she doesn't want to talk about it, and that's fine, but...
She's so little now, and he doesn't know what to do with her. For fuck's sake, she needs a phone book to sit on so she doesn't hit her chin on the damn table.
He reaches for her hands with one of his and pulls them away from her face. "Hey. Hotaru, listen to me: I'm pretty much thinking it wasn't like you did that to me out of some personal grudge, right? Which means it wasn't your fault and I'm okay, I'm okay. I've been hurt a hell of a lot worse than that."
Kind of by reflex, he rubs his other hand over his chest on the right-hand side, where Vincent's fingers dug in almost trying to kill.
"Mm..." she says, looking at his chest where he rubbed it. "You're right, but I'm still sorry," her lip quivers, and she jumps down to the floor so she isn't so far. It's in the past, but it still hurts. "Oniisan," she slowly goes closer, "I'm sorry." She hugs him again, around the neck.
It's almost okay to tell him about what happened while she was gone, but she's being careful. Her past is full of unpleasant things - he'll be sad...
"Shit, Hotaru, you used to hate touching people. You never liked it when anyone touched you."
What does a guy do, though, when he has a kid who calls herself his little sister hanging off his neck, arms around him? He can't ignore her.
He can only hug her back, and so for the second time tonight he does just that: wraps his arms gingerly around her frail back and holds her, and lets her cry, or think about crying, or whatever she needs to do. And in the back of his mind a little voice tells him he makes a lousy oniisan, a lousy big brother.
But he ignores that inner critic and just pats Hotaru's back. "You know," he says softly, "it's all right. Whatever happened, it's all right. We can talk about it another time: outside where the sun's bright and the day's warm and nothing bad can touch us. But now you have to tell me: do you have a place to stay?"
Ka-oniisan. Yeah, you're a fucking prince of a guy.
He thinks back. "How many months has it been since you were here? See, I have that much time to make up for when it comes to worrying. Because I figured you weren't coming back, so there wasn't anything to actually worry about. But you know, once you start calling someone brother, it means something. It means something kind of solemn, and it means something by way of obligation. Emotional obligation if nothing else."
Fucking Samurai code. Why does that apply to me? I'm just a humble bounty hunter.
But he knows exactly why it applies: it's a question of honor. And that's something that's always kind of resonated for him. Killing people... well, that was just business. But the rest of what he did?
Yeah, right. Maybe if he stretches it he can turn it into something honorable.
Oh well. It was a good try.
"So you going back tonight, then." It's not a question.
Hmmm... Hotaru nods. "Professor Tomoe... my former Papa, isn't..."
...
"Around anymore."
He's dead. You could just say that, you know.
"My parents today are three women. They don't know that I'm here. They knew about my appearance here, but didn't want me to go alone the next time. It kind of happened by accident. And I really shouldn't make them worry... again."
His eyes narrow as he remembers: there were two girls -- women, probably -- in the bar acting like they knew Hotaru back before the shit hit the fan and she disappeared. They gave her cake, they gave her presents, even though the Hotaru he knew didn't want any of that shit.
He wonders if they're the same people.
Time for that later. Yeah, definitely time for that later.
"Sounds like a cozy little arrangement. It's all working out okay for you?"
Hotaru opens and closes her mouth - about to speak, but then realizing that she can't possibly describe all the wonderful things about the three of them. 'Everyday like a dream.'
The past few months have been the all-around best of any life she's ever lived, in all the lives she can recall, (dozens, at least).
Finally, she merely nods, and smiles, "Yes. We're very happy."
"Good." He studies her for a minute and damn, she looks so little.
So little.
"Ask you a question?" He's proceeding with caution, because he knows she wants and doesn't want to talk about things: he can see the duality in her eyes.
Out of breath, she stops right in front of him and without a moment of hesitation, places her hands flat on his lap so she can peer into his eyes. Satisfied with what she sees, (that it really is Spike!... His hair is the same color as Setsuna-mama's, more-or-less), she quickly breaks out into a grin and wraps him as much as she can, unabashfully, in a huge hug.
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Shouldn't I be worried about still being here?
She's smiling brightly, and the smile begins to fade gradually.
....No, because...
It's gone completely, and her hands are placed upon her lap, politely folded. They'll just have to understand. I have priorities. My own missions to take care of.
"Oniisan," Hotaru starts, her hands fidgeting a bit in her lap.
"I'm sorry," she says out loud this time.
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And she doesn't want to talk about it, and that's fine, but...
"Why are you sorry?"
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"I'm sorry... they... she..." She bites her lip. She covers her face with her hands. S'kyr'i'on indeed.
"I'm so sorry that you were hurt... and... everything. Everything that happened." she sobs through her hands.
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Hey. What the fuck.
She's so little now, and he doesn't know what to do with her. For fuck's sake, she needs a phone book to sit on so she doesn't hit her chin on the damn table.
He reaches for her hands with one of his and pulls them away from her face. "Hey. Hotaru, listen to me: I'm pretty much thinking it wasn't like you did that to me out of some personal grudge, right? Which means it wasn't your fault and I'm okay, I'm okay. I've been hurt a hell of a lot worse than that."
Kind of by reflex, he rubs his other hand over his chest on the right-hand side, where Vincent's fingers dug in almost trying to kill.
Now that was on purpose.
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It's almost okay to tell him about what happened while she was gone, but she's being careful. Her past is full of unpleasant things - he'll be sad...
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What does a guy do, though, when he has a kid who calls herself his little sister hanging off his neck, arms around him? He can't ignore her.
He can only hug her back, and so for the second time tonight he does just that: wraps his arms gingerly around her frail back and holds her, and lets her cry, or think about crying, or whatever she needs to do. And in the back of his mind a little voice tells him he makes a lousy oniisan, a lousy big brother.
But he ignores that inner critic and just pats Hotaru's back. "You know," he says softly, "it's all right. Whatever happened, it's all right. We can talk about it another time: outside where the sun's bright and the day's warm and nothing bad can touch us. But now you have to tell me: do you have a place to stay?"
Ka-oniisan. Yeah, you're a fucking prince of a guy.
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At length, she stands back, smiling. "You're worried about me?" She giggles.
Then stops giggling, so are my parents. Another mental facepalm. "I'm okay," she says, cheerfully.
..."I never liked to touch people?..." She tries to remember back... to that time.
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Fucking Samurai code. Why does that apply to me? I'm just a humble bounty hunter.
But he knows exactly why it applies: it's a question of honor. And that's something that's always kind of resonated for him. Killing people... well, that was just business. But the rest of what he did?
Yeah, right. Maybe if he stretches it he can turn it into something honorable.
Oh well. It was a good try.
"So you going back tonight, then." It's not a question.
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...
"Around anymore."
He's dead. You could just say that, you know.
"My parents today are three women. They don't know that I'm here. They knew about my appearance here, but didn't want me to go alone the next time. It kind of happened by accident. And I really shouldn't make them worry... again."
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He wonders if they're the same people.
Time for that later. Yeah, definitely time for that later.
"Sounds like a cozy little arrangement. It's all working out okay for you?"
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The past few months have been the all-around best of any life she's ever lived, in all the lives she can recall, (dozens, at least).
Finally, she merely nods, and smiles, "Yes. We're very happy."
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So little.
"Ask you a question?" He's proceeding with caution, because he knows she wants and doesn't want to talk about things: he can see the duality in her eyes.
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He knows looks can be deceiving. "So... how old are you?"
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Then, she looks down at the floor. "I..." she starts. "I haven't been alive very long. It's been a few months, maybe."
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