freshprints | IC Inbox

[It's at the deepest point of this murky, bacchanalian riot of a night, lit strangely by the undulating Marillan glow, that a slight, tousled man walking along the beach laughs at something on his phone. He's wearing a hoodie and a small smile, and even that wouldn't make him look that much like a certain hopeful boy.

Not unless an observer were entirely Lune-drunk.]

[UNFORTUNATELY, SOME PEOPLE ARE ENTIRELY LUNE-DRUNK and one of them happens to be Kirigiri.

What's strange is that she hasn't even been drinking alcohol, strictly; in fact, she's been opting for nonalcoholic variations whenever possible. And yet as the night goes on, the very exposure to the bacchanalia winds up leaving her blitzed out of her mind, and so before long she heads outside to try to get some fresh air and clear her head.

Which is when she sees him, of course. Sure, it's through the dark and at a distance, but — all the distinguishing factors are there. The short stature. The messy hair. The hoodie sweatshirt.

It's an actual marvel that she's able to run this fast in high heeled boots; it's about as fast as she ran that night at Hope's Peak when she'd heard the footsteps of death heading for Naegi's room.

Now, the only sound is her own footsteps, carrying her as fast as she can to him.]

Naegi-kun.

[Hi, Therion. Say hello to a random girl who's just run up to you in a white Oxford shirt dress, black corset belt, and knee-high boots — and who clearly thinks you're someone else.]

[whomst

Therion stares at the unknown girl, bewildered--and not unaffected by the night, either. It's the familiar, giddy pull of Cordis, even in this world without her moon. He feels dizzy and reckless, as in those happy moments before true drunkenness, when the universe is full of treasure and everything seems like a great idea.

He can't place the girl and certainly doesn't recognize the name--could he have given out something that sounds vaguely like the Japanese Kurama spoke?--but the split second if hesitation washes away in the Lunetide.

He smiles awkwardly and scratches his cheek.]

Hey. Long time no see, huh.

You didn't tell me you were here. How long have you been here?

[And because she is very, very wasted on laughter and drink and good times, she doesn't even make an effort to hide the look on her face as her expression crumples like a dejected child's, her eyes filling with tears.]

Is it because you didn't want to see me?

[SHE IS SO INCREDIBLY WASTED.]

[wHAT is GOING ON? Nayeggicoon, what did you do to this girl?]

No, no! [He lifts his hands, and then, overcoming his natural inclination to back away from emotion, steps towards her.] I--I didn't know you were here. I just got here...

[Wait. So does she know him from Prismatica? Or, if she's reacting like this, can this really be about him at all?]

...Why wouldn't I want to see you?

I don't know...!

[That's actually a hilarious lie, because of course she knows why he might not want to see her. It's just that she sort of thought they were past that already, is all. Weren't they?]

I didn't think you were the type to hold a grudge...but maybe you were still angry with me? That's not it, is it?

It's not. I'm not angry, I promise.

[Confused, yes. Surreptitiously glancing around to see if anyone can help him, yes. But he can't be angry at a girl he doesn't remember seeing before in his life.

No one's around, which means he has to deal with this outpouring of misplaced grief on his own. Typical.]

...Why don't we sit down and talk about it. Okay?

[She nods slowly, clearly still emotional, but pacified somewhat by the comfort offered.]

That sounds good. Yes, let's do that.

[LEAD THE WAY, THERIONAEGI.]

[Looking for a place to sit is a great opportunity to try to sort his tipsy thoughts. Too bad it takes no time at all to find a bench facing the water.]

Over there.

[He pats his pockets as they walk and offers her a handkerchief he doesn't remember stealing.]

Here. ...Sorry for making you cry. I didn't know...

[She takes it without question when he offers it up to her, dabbing at her eyes before noisily blowing her nose into it. Sorry, previous owner of that handkerchief, you're probably not going to want it back.]

It's fine. After everything...I probably deserve it.

[She rubs her nose again.]

And I never apologized. Not even once. And you never even asked me to...!

[This is wild, TBH, coming after his last post about forgiveness and whatnot. He looks off at the waves, because otherwise he has to address whether he's supposed to, like, pat a girl's shoulder to comfort her or what.]

...You did what you had to, right? Can't blame you for that.

[That's the most Naegi-like thing he's said yet, which certainly isn't doing anything to shake her out of her misconceptions.]

I know, but...

[She glances away.]

Still, it was wrong, wasn't it?

…Maybe so, if it still troubles you this much.

[Whatever “it” is. Therion fiddles with the drawstrings of his hood. ’Is there there really anything to forgive in the first place?’ someone had asked, and he wonders now what this girl did—and what kind of person she did it to. What kind of person simply lets after everything slide?

He scuffs a sandal toe along the ground.]

Would it be easier on you if I were angry? If I wanted you to apologize?

[Well, that certainly gets her to go quiet for a minute, either from the way her impromptu companion so deftly puts a voice to her thoughts, or from the shock that the person she thinks he is would even suggest such a thing in the first place.]

...I don't...want you to be angry.

[But.]

But it would make more sense. If you were.

[Well. You know what? Pseudo-Cordis brain says, if she's going to process some feelings on the wrong person, why shouldn't he do the same? He's not going to get anywhere pretending to be this Naegi-kun person (who, in his head, resembles something like a small, bipedal raccoon) with so little information, so Therion might as well get something out of this before she catches her drunk girl mistake. He crosses his arms and leans back, breathing out.]

I've had time to think about it since then, you know. What you did.

[He says it to the ocean. To the wind.]

I still can't be angry. I get why you did it. But I let it happen because I trusted you.

[He shrugs.]

Won't say I'd mind an apology, if that mattered to you.

[That's horrible. That's so horrible. But it's true, isn't it? He let it happen because he trusted her. All he had to do was expose her lie, and that would've been that...

But he didn't. He trusted her. And she was ready to let him get executed for it.]

I know. I never did anything to deserve it, but you trusted me anyway.

[She seems to pull in on herself a little, dejected.]

I'm sorry for what I did. Choosing myself, instead of you. And I'm sorry that...if I had to make it again, I don't know for sure if I'd be able to choose differently.

[Therion inhales, which is only really notable because it is notable. The air actually makes a sound as it whispers down his windpipe.]

I… [He swallows.] I know.

[Egg Raccoon is lucky. So, so lucky. Because Therion knows for sure that Darius would never choose differently. Not for him.]

Thanks, though. For saying it. That you’re sorry. [A faint and fairly pathetic laugh escapes him, and he pulls up part of his hood to cover the bottom of his face, missing his scarf.] I did want to hear it after all.

[She laughs, under her breath — the kind of laugh that isn't funny, that after a while turns into a sort of messy sob, and when it breaks she winds up just sitting down in the sand right where she is, dragging her knees up to her chest and hugging them in a way that's hilariously unmindful of how unsuited her shirt dress is for someone to configure themselves that way.]

It doesn't change anything. You think it's going to change something and it doesn't.

[She drops her head down onto her bare knees.]

Words are just words. What good are they, next to what people do?

Not much... is what I'd usually say. Hell knows I've fallen for cheap words before.

[He crouches, then, to be closer to eye level with this strange, sad girl. The way she's crumpled up in her smart clothes, the wavering laugh, how she holds her knees like a child--it breaks his heart a bit.]

But you came running to give these ones to me.

[Therion reaches out and pats her head, ruffles her hair just a little.]

Words let you know what someone wants you to think. You ran in boots like those-- [He points to her knee-highs.] --just to say you're sorry. So at the very least...

[All he can do is smile wryly, helplessly at her, somehow homesick.]

I'm led to think you care what I think. You ever have to make that choice again, I'll know to take care of myself. But in the meantime... it's good to hear you didn't make it lightly the first time.

[Should she be offended by the familiarity he shows her, rumpling her hair with his wide, rough palm? Maybe, but at the moment, it doesn't occur to her. It's the sort of thing that Abbacchio would do for her, probably — an affectionate, caring, fatherly sort of gesture. Not at all what she'd expect out of Naegi-kun, but then, maybe he's just full of surprises tonight.]

Of course I care what you think. You're all the "family" I have left...

[And that's not quite true, either, but — it's something between the two of them. Something she said back at school, something of significance he'll remember.

Or would, if she were talking to the real Naegi, which she's not.]

[Ah. Mm. Feels bad, man. Therion hesitates, then busies both his hands unnecessarily in digging his phone out of his pocket.]

Right. Uh, here. Why don’t we trade contact information, so we can always find each other from now on?

[He’s pretty sure, as impaired as she apparently is, he could get away with only jotting her details down, but this is the far more natural way to go about it. Worried, he studies her face to see if she’ll bite.]

Mm...? Oh...that would be smart, yes. Why didn't I think of that?

[She seems legitimately perplexed by the question, even as she asks it of herself, and forgets for a minute that he's waiting for her to produce her phone. But eventually she circles back around to it, and shuffles with her clothes until she remembers where she'd put it, and fishes it out of one of her boots before holding it out to him obligingly.]

Here. I had to make a new account...I was locked out of my old one somehow.

[You can just hear the :( ]

[Aw, kiddo. :(

He pauses again, a phone in each hand, almost literally weighing his options. Fantasy European Therion T. Thief has no idea, after all, how to spell "Naegi."

Instead, he opens up "My Number" on her phone to key the digits one-handed into his contact list, saving them under Egg Raccoon Girl.]

Did you forget your password?

[He calls her phone to make sure he's typed the number correctly and hands it back to her as the call goes through.]

I don't know. I wouldn't have changed it...

[This is so sad. :( Only when she's this wasted could she possibly be this upset about a hilariously minor electronic mishap.]

Oh. Who's calling? Is that you?

[She takes the phone obediently, already pressing the buttons to add the number to her contacts.]

Yeah. It's me.

[A pause, and he holds it to his ear.]

See?

['See?' echoes her phone in his voice.]

IC Inbox | noctiumrp

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