[Sleeping never used to be an issue for Mallory. Work out and then pass out, that always worked for him. That was before his nights were plagued with nightmares while he slept and regrets as he lay awake; before sleeping with one eye open was the only way to survive. Even this peaceful new life isn't enough to ease him into restful slumber most nights, not even now that he has a familiar presence to look after him. If anything, it's worse now that he's the one who's determined to do the looking after.
On this particular night he's just sitting with his back to the wall, arms crossed and head bowed into his chest. He glances up when Luna speaks, catching that look, and after a moment he rises to his feet.]
Great idea. I could use a soak, myself.
[Maybe it'll be relaxing enough to help invite some sleep for both of them. They really should take full advantage of the luxurious facilities they're living right over, now. He grabs a couple of towels and yukata from the storage closet and dutifully follows after Luna.
If nothing else, at least it's some nice downtime to spend together.]
[And so the walk to the bathhouse is filled with absolute silence, but it's fine as it is. That's just the thing between them, sometimes conversations aren't necessary as they're comfortable enough with each other's silent companionship. They're equals, Luna reminds himself. It's still taking him time to fully believe in Mallory as he used to, but there's progress.
They strip away from their clothes soon enough when they were in the baths. Mallory's on his right, though he feels something amiss enough that he turns to confirm whether his hunch had been right or not. Almost immediately he realizes that his best friend had removed his prosthetic before they head to the baths, that must be inconvenient.]
[Companionable silence or friendly conversation are both equally welcome in Mal's book, but that particular question throws him off and even makes him a little self-conscious. He pauses halfway through seating himself at one of the rinsing stations, pulling his bad arm in defensively.]
Of course I'm gonna wash it...
[Those hard-to-reach places may be even more impossible than ever, but he has a system. It involves holding one end of the long washcloth in his mouth and dangling it over his shoulder while reaching around his front to kind of awkwardly grab the other end and make a futile attempt at scrubbing what he can, but... it's better than nothing!
Of course, now that Luna's brought it up, he's not so eager to show it off. It feels pathetic enough as it is, and he hates to imagine how much worse it looks to someone else. How pitiable must he be that he didn't even have to start that display for Luna to start looking down on him?]
[By no means does he want to disregard his friend's personal comfort, but it's the least he can do to help out. It was his fault he lost an arm to begin with, becoming an extra arm for him is something he's more than happy to do.
His gaze flickers downwards for a split second before forcing himself to look at the other man in the eye. Luna tries to keep his face neutral, but there's twitches and small tells implying clearly where his eye had looked before focusing on his friend's own nervous eyes. Luna is most definitely not an expert in an athlete's dietary and routine, but Mallory has always had a strong build that not even famine and despair got through him to destroy it completely. No, what breaks the illusion that the former boxer had been unbeatable had Luna's own doing.
Try to ignore as much as he can, even with his eye trained to look at Mallory's face instead of what's below, there's a strange pull to it tempting him to look down again. The only thing stopping him is the heavy guilt weighing in his shoulders and heart, against the morbid curiosity that's naturally programmed in his brain; the part of him curios to see how much damage he has done to the person he care about.
Fighting the urges, he adds;]
Though, only if you feel like it's alright, I don't want to trouble you.
[Frankly, he's done enough to cause this whole issue to begin with.]
[He's caught between a teasing you're nothing but trouble and a more sincere you never are. So he responds with silence instead, just holding the cloth out in Luna's direction while keeping his gaze downcast.]
...Thanks.
[Luna's seen weakness in him before. And vice-versa -- you don't spend the better part of a decade at each other's sides through thick and thin, hope and despair, without seeing glimpses of every facet of their heart. Mal's never liked feeling vulnerable in front of anybody, even the people he trusts most, but now it's not just his body that feels so naked.
In his effort not to look at Luna he focuses on himself instead, and for the first time he really looks at the damage from his botched self-amputation. Rather than neat surgical scarring, the end of his arm is a still-healing mess of puckered burgundy, crowned by darker lines where he made the first few clumsy, hesitant cuts. Even where he finally did slice through part of bone the shape's all uneven where he snapped it off with his own strength and desperation, and by all means none of it ever would have healed if not for the Witch's magic.
Not that he was ever planning to need it to.
How ugly, he finds himself thinking as he stares at the arm cradled in his lap. Followed up by a more recurring thought: what good is a boxer with only one hand?
Luna's presence now is all the reminder he needs that he would do the same thing all over again, though. Even if he can't be of as much use to him as he used to be, or if he's only looked on with pity from now on... in the end, it was a good trade-off.
He closes his eyes and leans back a little into Luna's touch as he works, his shoulders heaving with a deep but silent sigh.]
[It's a good thing that Mallory's facing away and it's just the two of them at this hour. He starts scrubbing from the top as his hands try to cover up all ground until he notices the strange mark near the shoulder blades; the way it starts one line and smaller ends spreading it. His paces slows down as his hands travel towards the scar, an index finger tracing it lightly in a moment of weakness and curiosity as he tries to recall if he had been to the bloodshed that caused this. It wasn't like Mallory's didn't had any other scars and markings around him, on the contrary, throughout the years he's seen how many fights his friend could get into and imagine the occasional missteps or sudden attacks that manage to catch him for a brief second.
His finger stops and rests on the scar, the mental image of a dark stain against white fabric plays suddenly appears at the back of his mind. The stain could have been anything considering the vision he had been born with, but there isn't any room for denial when he remembers how sharp the scent of blood had been.
If it's the exact same wound in his memory then at the time, Mallory shouldn't even have been walking. And yet, he was adamant of the scratches and bruises Luna has gotten to be treated first above anything else.]
.... Sorry.
[This is completely awkward, and he should focus on what he's doing now instead of his thoughts.
However he couldn't stop berating himself, all he could think off at the time was eliminating everyone in game until he was the one left standing. And it had been close to being a reality, if not for Naegi's intervention. Luna's started to scrub harder, trying to forget the memory.
Try as he may to ignore it again, he isn't able to ignore the magnetic pull of the scar below. The one that's been luring him to look and acknowledge the damage he has done.]
Did it attribute to any permanent nerve damage?
[The words come out quiet, not hiding one bit of the regret that it implies. If he was another person, he would have divert the conversation to something completely different but he's never the one for idle talk; even when he lies or hides his feelings, they tend to be close to the truth.
Who had gone close enough to do this, he wonders. By the time he had met up with Mallory again to see that wound, most of their heavy hitters have died one way or another as far as he knows.]
[Mallory hasn't seen the newer scars on his back, but he's familiar enough with the entry points on his front side to tell exactly what Luna's fingers trace over. He never did tell him about his ill-fated encounter with Kizakura... And there's no reason to, frankly. All that came out of that false promise of an exit was humiliation and pain. A loss of control.
(A lead to the controls. He mustn't forget that.)
But he knows full well which wound Luna did witness, to put it lightly, and he puts his hand over the mark just below his chest. He wasn't the only one who lost control.]
Nn... Nothing major. You missed my spine, at least. [Might as well have plunged his sword right into his heart for the pain it caused him, though. Even now, there's a sharp heat in his chest, and it's not the kind Luna's company usually brings him.]
Quit worrying about what happened, already. You're not the kinda guy who regrets the past. You keep on fighting for the future.
[No matter what he has to do. If anything, Mal can't stop regretting that even for a second that future had no place for him. His head slumps forward a little and he breathes deeply, the hot, humid air thick with the scent of freshly-bloomed flowers from somewhere.]
[Luna stops his tracks completely as his gaze finally drops to the stabbing one that he caused. Unlike the mysterious wound that went through Mallory's shoulder, the one below doesn't just end with a cut line and small veins; the cauterize effect leaves skin looking charred with old skin clumping together as a newer, lighter one takes center of it all.
Once again, fingers travels downwards in a slow motion until it reaches to that very same wound. The movement becomes more and more hesitant until it's at the edges of same clumped up skin, all before he gently presses in the center of the scar. It looks flat to him, but it's obvious that while the Witch's magic revived Mallory, it leaves most of the scars intact. Or, even more disturbingly, there's a rather evident depth in the center once you're near it. It's still a hole.
Exactly, how can he not regret this? Not when he's fully aware how he mutilated his own best friend in a fit of misplaced rage.]
When you fight for the future, you also have to fully acknowledge and learn from past errors. [...] But, further than that, this isn't something I could just regard as a impersonal issue.
[Luna pulls his hand away from the wound, going back to scrubbing places he hasn't reach and places he's been repeatedly scrubbing. He hates to admit it, but he never realizes how little Mallory holds himself. It's telling to both of them now that his friend just basically asks him to ignore it. Ignore him. Never, not when he still cares for people, he still cares for Mallory deeply even if he's afraid what's to come in the future.]
Mallory, you haven't got the slightest idea how much I value you. And, it's not just your loyalty and dedication for our- no, my dream.
[He slowly tips the wooden bucket, hot water spilling and ridding soap suds. It goes without saying what he means, but he can't say words so personal as freely any more.]
[Okay, now that he feels the pressure applied to the hollow scar on his back, yeah, the nerves are definitely fucked up there. Whether the way his muscles tense beneath the touch is because of that or just from being unused to gentle touches from anyone in general, who knows. It's just as unclear whether it's the water washing over him or Luna's words that feel so warm.]
...Ours.
[Don't count him out of it just yet.
He lifts his head, closing his eyes while he sifts through his own memories, despite what he just said about not living in the past.]
You and Yukizome... you were the first people who looked at me and saw more than just someone who could do nothing but fight, you know? You made even me believe I had more of a future than being washed-up and retired before forty. If I even made it that far... Heh. I've seen what happens to guys when their bodies start to fail, or when they've taken too many blows to the head.
[He'd considered more than once throwing in the towel on life itself before getting to that point. God knows what he would have done if he lost his hand back then.]
So it's only right I dedicate that future to you. And your plan of helping kids see that same potential in themselves.
...I guess that just sounds like a bunch of sentimental garbage now, huh.
[He looks down the wet floor in both shame and contemplation; he never stops thinking of Mallory as something beyond just a boxer, he's been so much more as both an ally and friend that he honestly wish he could give the same anymore. Trusting people has become so hard, but it's never out of himself that he cares for him and Chisa so deeply.
However, to hear his friend speak so highly of him and his younger self's optimism reminds him of Icarus and his giddiness to fly and meet the sun god despite his father's warnings of flying too high.]
I suppose everything about it is just sentimental thoughts, I don't disagree with you on that.
[He lets out a dry, humorless laugh. It sounds broken even to himself.]
And yet, in all honesty, I never really found it me to consider giving up on the idea.
[He taps Mallory's shoulder, signalling it was his turn to wash his back. He thinks to himself that, after all, Icarus didn't really die from flying too close to the sun, he died falling too close to the ocean; suffocating in the dark before drowning to his death.
Similar to the story, he never stopped playing a part in what he thought was best for hope. It only dawns to him now that he completely stopped nurturing the future's hope despite it never really leaving his mind and instead focused too much in eliminating even the slightest hint of despair.]
[It isn't like Mal's still some hormonal teenager giddy with first love. He can handle the idea of being in the buff with the object of his affections without it being a big deal! Anymore. But turning to be presented with Luna's bare back, completely vulnerable and so close to him... it does make his heart beat just a little faster. His gaze lingers over it for just a few seconds too long before he swallows, pushes those desires aside, and gets to work.]
...You didn't. Not if you've still got that idea in your head.
[Luna's got his own fair share of scars along his paler skin. Each one of them is a testament to his own battle prowess; a trophy from a battle won against a world set to destroy him. But each one is also a blow Mallory wasn't there to take for them. A failure. The worst among them is that eye he'll never look into again. Was that Tengan's work? He knew he should have followed his gut and intervened even against Luna's orders.
Go against them and he screws up. Follow them to a t and he screws up. He frowns hard at nothing in particular, going over the same spot between Luna's shoulder blades a little too firmly.]
[Even when he anticipated and brace himself, he holds his breath every time a hand passes over his nape. It would be awkward to let Mallory know about it.
Luna falls silent for moment while waiting for Mallory to move away from the spot. He closes his eye and tries to ignore the dull ache in his heart, it all makes him self aware how he misses being held so closely by someone.]
I'm still part of the world, you know.
[It's a weak joke that's too close to the truth. He can't deny that he had been angry and even jealous when Naegi is seen as the Hope of the world; a low fire embed in his chest that boils every time the idea is so much mentioned, no matter how much he can see the potential the younger man has. However, coming out of everything with his beliefs shattered, the world around him false and a missing eye, he becomes all more painfully aware of how things some things are out of his reach from the start.
Just like Icarus, nothing but a mortal. Imperfect and fragile.
Being in the land of spirits just confirms this.]
They say no good deed goes unpunished, which is a modern English proverb in reference to how good acts often met with no appreciation or even additional request. Though, I feel the meaning feels more like how even the kindest acts might lead to worse things instead.
Tch. That saying's not wrong, that's for damn sure. But... what the hell else can you do, right? Besides, we're in a whole different world now. That's got to mean something.
[Because it can't mean nothing. They... can't mean nothing.
A fighter with one hand. A visionary who's half blind. And the heart of their group had somehow lost hers along the way. Someone out there has a sick sense of humour.
He wonders at first if he's just imagining things, the subtle little tension in his neck and pause in his breathing every time he brushes over the spot. But soon enough he realizes there's something more to it, and when it dawns on him just what that something could be, he takes in a sharper breath of his own. What if he just pays a little extra attention to his nape? Brushing a knuckle over the soft flesh just to see what happens. What he can do.
He already feels his stomach tightening with self-loathing that he could think such a thing at a time like this. That even if he tries to force it out of his mind now the thought will inevitably push itself to the forefront of his mind the next time he needs to relieve a little personal tension whether he wants it to or not.
[He's unaware to whatever stopped Mallory from washing his back, though he isn't going to admit that it's fine to touch him there any time soon. That would certainly be awkward, and he's certain that as loyal and kind as Mallory is to him, there are limits to how much friendship allows you to do- much so just to null his loneliness, even for a brief second. If only he knew.
No, he needs to stop this, Luna's selfish as it is to even think an idea like that, using his friend's loyalty and almost unquestionable kindness. He needs to focus on the actual conversation.]
Something...
[Could it really mean anything at all? The Witch tempted here just so they can fulfil their debts- he isn't sure how long that would be considering his own is to repay for not ruining just one life but two. As far as he's concern, he'll be here for more than decades. As bad that is, he accepts his fate, because the old world is rebuilding itself without him. And Mallory... well, he isn't suppose to be alive.
They're both scrapped out of the old world and won't be seeing it regrow any time soon. Unless...]
Correct my memory, is Koriko specifically a resort island with mostly entertainments and venues?
[Working here, he'd call it more like a prison island, or some kind of human zoo. He pulls his attention away from Luna's neck, hating himself for daring to breach his trust once again, and resumes a much more straightforward rubdown of the rest of his back.
He too needs to focus on the actual conversation.]
What're you thinking...?
[He shouldn't even have to say that of course Luna can count him in on any plan he has in mind.]
[Of course someone as shady as The Witch would be exploiting child labour where she can. Besides, nobody's as full of ambitious dreams and wishes like someone too young to have them crushed yet.
He leans over to start refilling the wash bucket. He... might see where this is going? Time to test the waters, as it were.]
Most of them definitely look too young to have even graduated high school yet.
[He nods with a small 'hmph' sound, that's exactly it.]
The Witch mostly employs teenagers, most of them being around the age of high schoolers. We also both know at this point that, as workers, we're only provided with the barest minimum necessities. Anything else had to be purchased or organized by ourselves.
[And personally, considering it's by no means a post-apocalyptic environment, it doesn't sit entirely well for him. He fold his arms together, closing his eye as he thinks through the following.]
I dislike the idea of kids missing out they can do more beyond what's in front of them.
[Whether it had been Hope's Peak or the Witch, it's common to dismiss potential beyond the naked eye and the children themselves then are programmed to think the same due to their impressionable age.]
It's... easy to think the future is bleak, it's not just you, I would have become a different man if Tengan hadn't guided me on the way. But not just him, building the right enviroment and meeting both you and Chisa really what shaped my adulthood.
Having the right kind of mentors and environment really changes you. After all, youth can't be wasted by being rotten oranges.
[They'll have to turn everyone into youthful jam, is what she would have said.]
[So that spark really didn't die out in him after all. A proud smile spreads across Mal's face as he listens to it roar back to life in Luna's words. Despite his claims that he could have turned out entirely different, Mal just can't imagine him any other way. Those ideals have been a part of him as long as they've known each other, and his passion has always been contagious.
His heart thumps a little harder again, and he wants so badly to just embrace the man in front of him and welcome him back, but, uh. Better keep it to just casually rinsing the suds off his back instead.]
I think I know a guy who'd make a great mentor. Someone with enough conviction to follow through with his ideals and offer hope to even kids stuck with slave labour like this. I'd even say he's a bit of an inspiration to me.
[He stands and circles around to Luna's front, extending his hand out to him.]
I miiight also know a guy who somehow got stuck in HR who might be able to pull a few strings to make this work. You know. If you really want to make your dreams come true.
[It certainly won't be a smooth road ahead of him- them. But given the time and patience, they could pool enough resources to make this work. There's an odd timing when he feels hot water running down his back as he thinks in delight at the thought of planning ideas and trying to make them a reality. A brighter future.
He breaks out a small grin as his hand reach out to Mallory's.]
I hope you introduce these people to me, we could use all the help we could get, and they seem more than perfect for the job.
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On this particular night he's just sitting with his back to the wall, arms crossed and head bowed into his chest. He glances up when Luna speaks, catching that look, and after a moment he rises to his feet.]
Great idea. I could use a soak, myself.
[Maybe it'll be relaxing enough to help invite some sleep for both of them. They really should take full advantage of the luxurious facilities they're living right over, now. He grabs a couple of towels and yukata from the storage closet and dutifully follows after Luna.
If nothing else, at least it's some nice downtime to spend together.]
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They strip away from their clothes soon enough when they were in the baths. Mallory's on his right, though he feels something amiss enough that he turns to confirm whether his hunch had been right or not. Almost immediately he realizes that his best friend had removed his prosthetic before they head to the baths, that must be inconvenient.]
Do you want to wash your back?
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[Companionable silence or friendly conversation are both equally welcome in Mal's book, but that particular question throws him off and even makes him a little self-conscious. He pauses halfway through seating himself at one of the rinsing stations, pulling his bad arm in defensively.]
Of course I'm gonna wash it...
[Those hard-to-reach places may be even more impossible than ever, but he has a system. It involves holding one end of the long washcloth in his mouth and dangling it over his shoulder while reaching around his front to kind of awkwardly grab the other end and make a futile attempt at scrubbing what he can, but... it's better than nothing!
Of course, now that Luna's brought it up, he's not so eager to show it off. It feels pathetic enough as it is, and he hates to imagine how much worse it looks to someone else. How pitiable must he be that he didn't even have to start that display for Luna to start looking down on him?]
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[By no means does he want to disregard his friend's personal comfort, but it's the least he can do to help out. It was his fault he lost an arm to begin with, becoming an extra arm for him is something he's more than happy to do.
His gaze flickers downwards for a split second before forcing himself to look at the other man in the eye. Luna tries to keep his face neutral, but there's twitches and small tells implying clearly where his eye had looked before focusing on his friend's own nervous eyes. Luna is most definitely not an expert in an athlete's dietary and routine, but Mallory has always had a strong build that not even famine and despair got through him to destroy it completely. No, what breaks the illusion that the former boxer had been unbeatable had Luna's own doing.
Try to ignore as much as he can, even with his eye trained to look at Mallory's face instead of what's below, there's a strange pull to it tempting him to look down again. The only thing stopping him is the heavy guilt weighing in his shoulders and heart, against the morbid curiosity that's naturally programmed in his brain; the part of him curios to see how much damage he has done to the person he care about.
Fighting the urges, he adds;]
Though, only if you feel like it's alright, I don't want to trouble you.
[Frankly, he's done enough to cause this whole issue to begin with.]
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...Thanks.
[Luna's seen weakness in him before. And vice-versa -- you don't spend the better part of a decade at each other's sides through thick and thin, hope and despair, without seeing glimpses of every facet of their heart. Mal's never liked feeling vulnerable in front of anybody, even the people he trusts most, but now it's not just his body that feels so naked.
In his effort not to look at Luna he focuses on himself instead, and for the first time he really looks at the damage from his botched self-amputation. Rather than neat surgical scarring, the end of his arm is a still-healing mess of puckered burgundy, crowned by darker lines where he made the first few clumsy, hesitant cuts. Even where he finally did slice through part of bone the shape's all uneven where he snapped it off with his own strength and desperation, and by all means none of it ever would have healed if not for the Witch's magic.
Not that he was ever planning to need it to.
How ugly, he finds himself thinking as he stares at the arm cradled in his lap. Followed up by a more recurring thought: what good is a boxer with only one hand?
Luna's presence now is all the reminder he needs that he would do the same thing all over again, though. Even if he can't be of as much use to him as he used to be, or if he's only looked on with pity from now on... in the end, it was a good trade-off.
He closes his eyes and leans back a little into Luna's touch as he works, his shoulders heaving with a deep but silent sigh.]
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His finger stops and rests on the scar, the mental image of a dark stain against white fabric plays suddenly appears at the back of his mind. The stain could have been anything considering the vision he had been born with, but there isn't any room for denial when he remembers how sharp the scent of blood had been.
If it's the exact same wound in his memory then at the time, Mallory shouldn't even have been walking. And yet, he was adamant of the scratches and bruises Luna has gotten to be treated first above anything else.]
.... Sorry.
[This is completely awkward, and he should focus on what he's doing now instead of his thoughts.
However he couldn't stop berating himself, all he could think off at the time was eliminating everyone in game until he was the one left standing. And it had been close to being a reality, if not for Naegi's intervention. Luna's started to scrub harder, trying to forget the memory.
Try as he may to ignore it again, he isn't able to ignore the magnetic pull of the scar below. The one that's been luring him to look and acknowledge the damage he has done.]
Did it attribute to any permanent nerve damage?
[The words come out quiet, not hiding one bit of the regret that it implies. If he was another person, he would have divert the conversation to something completely different but he's never the one for idle talk; even when he lies or hides his feelings, they tend to be close to the truth.
Who had gone close enough to do this, he wonders. By the time he had met up with Mallory again to see that wound, most of their heavy hitters have died one way or another as far as he knows.]
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(A lead to the controls. He mustn't forget that.)
But he knows full well which wound Luna did witness, to put it lightly, and he puts his hand over the mark just below his chest. He wasn't the only one who lost control.]
Nn... Nothing major. You missed my spine, at least. [Might as well have plunged his sword right into his heart for the pain it caused him, though. Even now, there's a sharp heat in his chest, and it's not the kind Luna's company usually brings him.]
Quit worrying about what happened, already. You're not the kinda guy who regrets the past. You keep on fighting for the future.
[No matter what he has to do. If anything, Mal can't stop regretting that even for a second that future had no place for him. His head slumps forward a little and he breathes deeply, the hot, humid air thick with the scent of freshly-bloomed flowers from somewhere.]
That's what I... really respect. About you.
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Once again, fingers travels downwards in a slow motion until it reaches to that very same wound. The movement becomes more and more hesitant until it's at the edges of same clumped up skin, all before he gently presses in the center of the scar. It looks flat to him, but it's obvious that while the Witch's magic revived Mallory, it leaves most of the scars intact. Or, even more disturbingly, there's a rather evident depth in the center once you're near it. It's still a hole.
Exactly, how can he not regret this? Not when he's fully aware how he mutilated his own best friend in a fit of misplaced rage.]
When you fight for the future, you also have to fully acknowledge and learn from past errors. [...] But, further than that, this isn't something I could just regard as a impersonal issue.
[Luna pulls his hand away from the wound, going back to scrubbing places he hasn't reach and places he's been repeatedly scrubbing. He hates to admit it, but he never realizes how little Mallory holds himself. It's telling to both of them now that his friend just basically asks him to ignore it. Ignore him. Never, not when he still cares for people, he still cares for Mallory deeply even if he's afraid what's to come in the future.]
Mallory, you haven't got the slightest idea how much I value you. And, it's not just your loyalty and dedication for our- no, my dream.
[He slowly tips the wooden bucket, hot water spilling and ridding soap suds. It goes without saying what he means, but he can't say words so personal as freely any more.]
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...Ours.
[Don't count him out of it just yet.
He lifts his head, closing his eyes while he sifts through his own memories, despite what he just said about not living in the past.]
You and Yukizome... you were the first people who looked at me and saw more than just someone who could do nothing but fight, you know? You made even me believe I had more of a future than being washed-up and retired before forty. If I even made it that far... Heh. I've seen what happens to guys when their bodies start to fail, or when they've taken too many blows to the head.
[He'd considered more than once throwing in the towel on life itself before getting to that point. God knows what he would have done if he lost his hand back then.]
So it's only right I dedicate that future to you. And your plan of helping kids see that same potential in themselves.
...I guess that just sounds like a bunch of sentimental garbage now, huh.
[Nothing more than a pipe dream now.]
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However, to hear his friend speak so highly of him and his younger self's optimism reminds him of Icarus and his giddiness to fly and meet the sun god despite his father's warnings of flying too high.]
I suppose everything about it is just sentimental thoughts, I don't disagree with you on that.
[He lets out a dry, humorless laugh. It sounds broken even to himself.]
And yet, in all honesty, I never really found it me to consider giving up on the idea.
[He taps Mallory's shoulder, signalling it was his turn to wash his back. He thinks to himself that, after all, Icarus didn't really die from flying too close to the sun, he died falling too close to the ocean; suffocating in the dark before drowning to his death.
Similar to the story, he never stopped playing a part in what he thought was best for hope. It only dawns to him now that he completely stopped nurturing the future's hope despite it never really leaving his mind and instead focused too much in eliminating even the slightest hint of despair.]
... Where did I went wrong, Mallory?
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...You didn't. Not if you've still got that idea in your head.
[Luna's got his own fair share of scars along his paler skin. Each one of them is a testament to his own battle prowess; a trophy from a battle won against a world set to destroy him. But each one is also a blow Mallory wasn't there to take for them. A failure. The worst among them is that eye he'll never look into again. Was that Tengan's work? He knew he should have followed his gut and intervened even against Luna's orders.
Go against them and he screws up. Follow them to a t and he screws up. He frowns hard at nothing in particular, going over the same spot between Luna's shoulder blades a little too firmly.]
It's the rest of the world that went wrong.
[I was the one who went wrong.]
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Luna falls silent for moment while waiting for Mallory to move away from the spot. He closes his eye and tries to ignore the dull ache in his heart, it all makes him self aware how he misses being held so closely by someone.]
I'm still part of the world, you know.
[It's a weak joke that's too close to the truth. He can't deny that he had been angry and even jealous when Naegi is seen as the Hope of the world; a low fire embed in his chest that boils every time the idea is so much mentioned, no matter how much he can see the potential the younger man has. However, coming out of everything with his beliefs shattered, the world around him false and a missing eye, he becomes all more painfully aware of how things some things are out of his reach from the start.
Just like Icarus, nothing but a mortal. Imperfect and fragile.
Being in the land of spirits just confirms this.]
They say no good deed goes unpunished, which is a modern English proverb in reference to how good acts often met with no appreciation or even additional request. Though, I feel the meaning feels more like how even the kindest acts might lead to worse things instead.
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Tch. That saying's not wrong, that's for damn sure. But... what the hell else can you do, right? Besides, we're in a whole different world now. That's got to mean something.
[Because it can't mean nothing. They... can't mean nothing.
A fighter with one hand. A visionary who's half blind. And the heart of their group had somehow lost hers along the way. Someone out there has a sick sense of humour.
He wonders at first if he's just imagining things, the subtle little tension in his neck and pause in his breathing every time he brushes over the spot. But soon enough he realizes there's something more to it, and when it dawns on him just what that something could be, he takes in a sharper breath of his own. What if he just pays a little extra attention to his nape? Brushing a knuckle over the soft flesh just to see what happens. What he can do.
He already feels his stomach tightening with self-loathing that he could think such a thing at a time like this. That even if he tries to force it out of his mind now the thought will inevitably push itself to the forefront of his mind the next time he needs to relieve a little personal tension whether he wants it to or not.
He really is... so wrong.]
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If only he knew.No, he needs to stop this, Luna's selfish as it is to even think an idea like that, using his friend's loyalty and almost unquestionable kindness. He needs to focus on the actual conversation.]
Something...
[Could it really mean anything at all? The Witch tempted here just so they can fulfil their debts- he isn't sure how long that would be considering his own is to repay for not ruining just one life but two. As far as he's concern, he'll be here for more than decades. As bad that is, he accepts his fate, because the old world is rebuilding itself without him. And Mallory... well, he isn't suppose to be alive.
They're both scrapped out of the old world and won't be seeing it regrow any time soon. Unless...]
Correct my memory, is Koriko specifically a resort island with mostly entertainments and venues?
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[Working here, he'd call it more like a prison island, or some kind of human zoo. He pulls his attention away from Luna's neck, hating himself for daring to breach his trust once again, and resumes a much more straightforward rubdown of the rest of his back.
He too needs to focus on the actual conversation.]
What're you thinking...?
[He shouldn't even have to say that of course Luna can count him in on any plan he has in mind.]
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[You might be seeing where this is all going.]
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The majority of them, I'd say.
[Of course someone as shady as The Witch would be exploiting child labour where she can. Besides, nobody's as full of ambitious dreams and wishes like someone too young to have them crushed yet.
He leans over to start refilling the wash bucket. He... might see where this is going? Time to test the waters, as it were.]
Most of them definitely look too young to have even graduated high school yet.
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The Witch mostly employs teenagers, most of them being around the age of high schoolers. We also both know at this point that, as workers, we're only provided with the barest minimum necessities. Anything else had to be purchased or organized by ourselves.
[And personally, considering it's by no means a post-apocalyptic environment, it doesn't sit entirely well for him. He fold his arms together, closing his eye as he thinks through the following.]
I dislike the idea of kids missing out they can do more beyond what's in front of them.
[Whether it had been Hope's Peak or the Witch, it's common to dismiss potential beyond the naked eye and the children themselves then are programmed to think the same due to their impressionable age.]
It's... easy to think the future is bleak, it's not just you, I would have become a different man if Tengan hadn't guided me on the way. But not just him, building the right enviroment and meeting both you and Chisa really what shaped my adulthood.
Having the right kind of mentors and environment really changes you. After all, youth can't be wasted by being rotten oranges.
[They'll have to turn everyone into youthful jam, is what she would have said.]
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His heart thumps a little harder again, and he wants so badly to just embrace the man in front of him and welcome him back, but, uh. Better keep it to just casually rinsing the suds off his back instead.]
I think I know a guy who'd make a great mentor. Someone with enough conviction to follow through with his ideals and offer hope to even kids stuck with slave labour like this. I'd even say he's a bit of an inspiration to me.
[He stands and circles around to Luna's front, extending his hand out to him.]
I miiight also know a guy who somehow got stuck in HR who might be able to pull a few strings to make this work. You know. If you really want to make your dreams come true.
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He breaks out a small grin as his hand reach out to Mallory's.]
I hope you introduce these people to me, we could use all the help we could get, and they seem more than perfect for the job.
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