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 Posted: Fri Jun 19, 2009 7:55 am
52 :: Bittersweet Return
RP with Skieborne
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Posted: Fri Jun 19, 2009 7:57 am
53 :: An Empty House is Not a Home
The house was empty. Of course it was empty; he had left, taken the few things he had wanted to keep with him, and Kallisto had had no reason to wait. At least it was his house. At least he had a house. And at least his garden had bloomed with a variety of plants that, while not planned, looked beautiful.
Hien trotted up to meet him, looking up at him quietly. ... How did it go?
Yambati shook his head, sagged against the now closed door. "I- she's wonderful. She's still perfect. And just seeing me- I think I hurt her again. Maybe I shouldn't have gone."
Don't be silly, Hien chided, pawing at his leg. You did the right thing. Apologizing was good.
Yambati nodded, bending to gather the skeletal creature up in his arms. He rested his forehead against Hien's skull. "I'm sorry for what I put you through, too, Hien."
It's okay. You thought you were following your path. You didn't know. I didn't know. And home is still here, so we can start again. Hien, the ever-cheerful cicus skeleton, pawed at his nose. You should probably get some furniture, though.
He laughed, weakly, stroking down Hien's vertebrae. Peridot and Amber had come floating in to join the reunion. They seemed happy to be home again. He had to keep going, he reminded himself, for them if for nothing else.
He had gone to the Housing Commission, informed them he was finally coming home. They had marked it down and promised to send supplies later that day. Until then, he had what he had kept - his few seeds, his books, his gardening supplies.
"Furniture is on its way. Until then, do you want to help me in the garden?" Feeling the dirt under his fingers again would be wonderful. He was almost smiling fully as they walked out to the garden, Hien bounding ahead.
Maybe this would work.
Maybe he could move on from the look of pain in Kallisto's eyes.
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Posted: Fri Jun 19, 2009 7:58 am
54 :: An Offer of Help
RP with Skieborne
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Posted: Fri Jun 19, 2009 7:58 am
55 :: Reassuring Normalcy
RP with Taro
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Posted: Fri Jun 19, 2009 8:00 am
56 :: A Helping Hand and an Offered Ear
He left the Flora Gardens with a new spring in his step, though it was still weighed down. Before he left those hallowed grounds of learning, however, the full weight of life came back despite Quenda's kind words. He still had so much ahead of him.
He took time to sit down, look around. It was as if he had just left. Some of his old schoolmates were still there, even, still concentrating on their studies. It was as if he had never left. He almost wanted to stay within those walls, attend classes until he couldn't stand it any longer, just to forget how things moved on in the city proper.
Yambati wasn't the only one who had been lost in his own mind for months. Biwa, too, had drifted into the background. She, however, had no excuse other than her own fear of failure and embarrassment. She was determined, however, just as he was, to strive forward. She remembered her encounter with the Broken, Professor Paxar, and remembered how driven she had felt when she realized that maybe, just maybe she could help them.
And so, when she saw Yambati sitting on a bench looking mournful, lonely, and empty, she didn't turn away. She remembered him, at least vaguely, and she approached on silent feet.
"Mr. Yambati?" she mewed, voice as tremulous as ever but not quite as translucent.
He looked up, a bit startled, but managed a small, thin smile. "Biwa, was it?"
She came closer, knelt close to his feet to better look into his eyes. His head stayed bowed. "Yes-!" She was surprised he remembered her. It filled her with a sort of pride, to be remembered. She wondered if others remembered her - like Eve, or Elanin, or Abacus. Did they?
"You've transcended." And that was why she hadn't seen him when she stole into the Garden to play her music. "Are you well?"
He laughed, emptily. "I have, but I am only midling. And you, you're still studying?"
"More or less. I've... I've missed a few classes." She blushed, smiled sheepishly. "I didn't mean to, I just..."
"Got caught up in your thoughts?" He remembered how skittish, how flighty she was. "It... it happens. I-"
He had the urge to tell her what had happened to him, to pour it all out once more, to finally say all of it that Kallisto shouldn't have to hear and Quenda shouldn't have to hear, but she was so innocent. She was just an unfortunate bystander.
But she was also dedicated to this new desire to help and she caught his dropped sentence. "... What happened to you?" she murmured, fingers clasping in her lap. "I- I have time, if you want to talk. Or need to talk. I'm learning how to help people.
He stared at her, brow furrowed, then shook his head. "I don't want to weigh you down. Don't worry about it - it will pass." I will atone for my sins.
"I will worry about it, unless you tell me," she said, with uncustomary force. "I- I mean-" and there she stammered again, back to her usual self, "if you go away again and I don't know what the matter was, I'll worry."
Yambati sighed and smiled mirthlessly, leaning back. "There's no stopping you, is there, Biwa? You'll have it out of me if you have to cry to do it."
"I wouldn't go that far. I don't think... but... you look so sad. And it's best not to let sadness build up. I've heard that said before." That's part of why she played music, so that any sadness could be excised into doleful notes and not into melancholy actions.
"Very well," Yambati said, nodding, and beginning his story. He spoke of gods and worship and devotion, of blindness to the wonder he had walking beside him until he left her alone. He told of lost love: her love, his love for himself, the love of the gods. He spoke until he felt finally satisfied, exhausted, going over every feeling, every disappointment, every moment of self-hatred from the moment he had realized just how badly he had been mistaken. He came close to crying three times, and each time he realized she was clasping his hands and gazing up at him with wide, sweet eyes.
She listened fervently, was moved by all he said, cried when he cried and squeezed his hands when his fingers curled and twitched anxiously. She felt all he felt and hoped that with her as an outlet, it would go up and out of the both of them never to return. Of course, he still had that melancholy look, but it was lighter by the time he finally fell silent after relating his uplifting meeting with Quenda.
She leaned forward and kissed his cheek, impetuously. "I understand," she said simply, then stood, tugging at him to do the same.
He wouldn't have believed she could really understood, but the look in her eye said otherwise. He believed her and rose to his feet. She was so small, so delicate, and yet she listened and understood. He felt guilty for both burdening her and assuming she couldn't take it.
"Can you show me the garden at your home?" she asked. "I can bring my koto if you would like music while you work."
He blinked, startled. "... What? I- I can, if you'd like, but you have studies- and-" And I barely know you, Biwa. Stay away, far away. Please. Don't let me taint you.
"You need somebody to just be around right now. I can tell. It's no good for you to be lonely while recovering. You said you wanted to reconnect, and what better way than with friends, hm?" She smiled that bright, soft smile of hers and tugged on his hands. "I can bring snacks, too."
"I- I have Hien to keep me company," he protested, weakly, as she dragged him back in the direction of her quarters. "You don't have to do this. And- and you're not allowed out of the White District. I don't want to get you in trouble."
"Hien's your familiar?" she asked, and he nodded. "Then Hien loves you unconditionally, but may not call you on your faults. I've done reading, and- and the most important way I can help is to provide unconditional support but not let you get away with bad behaviors. So I'm going to do as much as I can. I mean, even if can't come visit, you can visit instead. Maybe then, I can stop getting lost in my own head."
And she sighed, happily, and ran out of talking steam. For the rest of the walk between there and her room, she returned to the shy, sweet, bubbly, entirely too-easily confused girl he had met that first time.
--
Over the next few weeks, she dragged him back to her room almost every day. It was only his firm insistence that made her do her school work. She slowly became a new goal for him. His garden grew by the day under his watch, and so, he hoped, would Biwa. He wanted nothing more than for her to fully bloom, to walk with the confidence she had had when she dragged him from that bench. He would be friend, brother, father to her as best he could in return for her freely-given support and affection. She met him at the Garden after his work there was done for the day, and from there they helped each other the littlest bit, just by talking, existing.
It was going to be enough, just enough, paired with everything else. It was going to work.
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