[her eyebrow raises, though, considering. she doesn't need to know the details of Hibiki's relationships with others unless they choose to share - but clearly, they're behaving around Aerith.]
I had to keep it safe, where we met. I still do, as it stands. I don't know what I would have done if I had woken up here without it.
[carefully, she unhooks it from her waist - setting it between them, close enough for Aerith to touch, if she wants to. the old iron isn't cold at all, but a comforting level of warm, like something left in the sun, or someone's living skin.]
[ She does touch. Of course she does; the comfort she feels around Hibiki and Emily means she feels she can do that much. Beneath her fingertips is the warmth of another body, though the texture is clearly off. It is not, in truth, all that alarming. She understands. Objects carry life force; it blooms in the most unusual places. Memories cannot be contained to just the body. ]
I had a friend here. A long time ago. He wore a mask.
[ Six, you see, is ever present on her mind, still. She gives up on people, she says, but she carries them with her. Her body is a tomb, full of memories and things and people she's lost. ]
[she feels that touch, as if someone brushed against that space behind her heart, and she wonders if Aerith knows. it's intimate, close - it's something she doesn't offer everyone, but she thinks Aerith earned it.]
Tell me about him.
[let her listen and accept that part of things. let Aerith unburden herself for once.]
[ Her fingers are still ghosting the mask, gently caressing it's exterior. Aerith thoughtfully drags the tips of her fingers along the rough yet manicured mask, feeling what it's made of as she outlines the shape of its lips with distant curiosity. She imagines skin there, picks out the face, and wonders if that's what Hibiki's might look like, deep in the recesses of her mind. ]
Six.
[ When she speaks, it is with both emptiness and weariness, as if she's been run through the wringer and spat out by forces unknown. So long ago now, and still... ]
That was his name. I saw him every day, at the crack of dawn— right before the world went golden like egg yolks, and then one day... he didn't show up. [ Just like Zack. The promise of a date, unfulfilled. ] The gyokuto, she... she gave me medicine. Six took it from me. He wouldn't let me take it, and he taught me how to fight...
[ What is it about her that attracts men like that? Meddlesome, but not in the way so many others are. Helpful, holding her up, making sure she can take care of herself. Zack supported her through the beginning of selling her flowers... and Six supported her fighting to defend herself. Just like that flower business, it culminated into something greater. ]
...No. He thought the worst of himself even as he strove to be the best.
[and she says it in such a way that Aerith will know it is meant for empathy - a help, to know that she doesn't carry the memory on her lonesome. Six is a scar on her heart, a fond memory, a vial of poison with no antidote that she carries with her as a good luck charm so that the thoughts might not decay.]
He was a good man, and a good friend. I'm sorry - it's never enough time, is it?
...Never. [ For all of her twenty-two years, she's lost far too many people in her life. Her expression slips for a moment, and she feels her expression twist with the storm of emotions she's feeling— ]
It's okay. He returned... to where he needed to be. [ Raising her head, she smiles in that tire way, but she truly believes in what she says. ] We'll meet again, some day.
[she dares to reach out, to put her hand over Aerith's and her own mask, wanting the weight to be a comfort. whatever she's thinking, that storm, she isn't on her own in the wake of it, the winds that whip and sting and ache for far too long.]
I know you will. Call me terribly sentimental, but I would like to believe that for two people that want to see each other again, that you will. Even if you have to be patient until that time comes.
And when he comes back, you can properly scold him for leaving, before telling him all that occurred in the meanwhile.
[ It is with a terribly weak smile that Aerith looks back at her, her expression wildly sincere, without a trace of a simper. She had meant that he had returned to the Planet, but that is something Emily doesn't know much about, she assumes. Aerith will see him again, she thinks, out in the Promised Land— whatever it may be. Then, in the future, when Emily returns to the Planet, too, Aerith and Six will be waiting for her with a spot right between them. ]
I didn't know you knew him, too. I should have known. You know all the best people here, Emily.
I met him in the place I was before. Where we got our masks.
[there's a softness to her expression that only reminiscing can bring.]
Friendship was its own lifeline, in that realm. I thought we were so fortunate, to both land in the same one, because I wasn't through with knowing him. But...
[it is what it is. she cannot change it. the vial of poison sits quietly in her medical bag.]
It's a shame I didn't know of our mutual acquaintance sooner. I could have told you about him getting pranked by an aka manto spirit.
[ All that misery is gone in a flash, pushed aside for surprise as Aerith leans in, conspiratorially. Interest piqued thoroughly, now, there is no going back. ]
[with all the joy of someone who has a good story to share, Emily takes the opportunity, and starts to recount the incident. she can't help but break into laughter often, and by a certain point, some of the cloud that was over them both had vanished.]
-so he was wrapping it up in toilet paper, because it's all we had - it looked like some sort of child's drawing by the end!
[ The story is a whirlwind, and she listens with an eagerness that feels a little displaced, all things considered. Months later, this will have to serve as a eulogy for a man whose time she insisted on eating up selfishly, projecting and insisting and doing who knows what else. ]
That's him, alright. So serious!
[ Even if her words sound chiding, she's fond of that about him. Six is, after all, one of the only two people in Jigoku that she's told about herself— though Emily joins a prestigious few that have seen the extents of Shinra's work upon Aerith. She smiles, looking aside for a moment, and downs her water. ]
He knew.
[ That's all she says; about her, about Cetra, about Shinra— all of it. ]
[she tries not to mention it, if she can help it. something like that was private, deeply so, and not something she wanted to mention if Aerith was hurt by it. it still lingers in her mind, of course, every detail, but if Aerith is broaching the subject, then it's safe to speak of.]
...You trusted him that much.
[an observation, a question, but an understanding all the same.]
[ With Emily, it’s always safe to speak. Of the world, of life, of death, and everything in between— all the beautiful things and the ugly things, too. ]
[she nods, feeling their shared warmth on her mask, the presence of it.]
And now I can think of a thousand things I'd tell him, if he was here - but those regrets will simply have to stay with me.
[carried behind her, a trail of broken Emilys, who spoke too much or too little, consigned to the fire. nothing ever fitting right. regret, guilt, the past - it burns on. they remain. she keeps it fed.]
[ There isn’t much Aerith can offer in response to that. She turns her head to Emily, letting go of the mask. Her fingers go cold, then, losing the warmth of skin, of body heat when she relinquishes her touch from it. The smile she offers Emily is gentle and waxes half-full, like a receding moon. There are a great deal of things on her mind— all of them losses. Then, after a pause full of implications and would-bes or have-beens, Aerith speaks. ]
[taking the mask back, fastening it on her waist, it gives her a plausible reason to look down and away from Aerith. she won't see her eyes for this.]
I'm not sure what you mean.
[maybe I'm just tired of having the same fucking argument with you when I know you're just going to work yourself to death anyway. Andy's words, hot and caustic, kept alive in some corner of her heart to keep her humble. apology after apology, because it applies to everyone else. their emotions can come in, fill up space in the construct that is "Emily Dyer". there's room for it. the less of herself, the more space they have.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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[her eyebrow raises, though, considering. she doesn't need to know the details of Hibiki's relationships with others unless they choose to share - but clearly, they're behaving around Aerith.]
I had to keep it safe, where we met. I still do, as it stands. I don't know what I would have done if I had woken up here without it.
[carefully, she unhooks it from her waist - setting it between them, close enough for Aerith to touch, if she wants to. the old iron isn't cold at all, but a comforting level of warm, like something left in the sun, or someone's living skin.]
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I had a friend here. A long time ago. He wore a mask.
[ Six, you see, is ever present on her mind, still. She gives up on people, she says, but she carries them with her. Her body is a tomb, full of memories and things and people she's lost. ]
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Tell me about him.
[let her listen and accept that part of things. let Aerith unburden herself for once.]
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Six.
[ When she speaks, it is with both emptiness and weariness, as if she's been run through the wringer and spat out by forces unknown. So long ago now, and still... ]
That was his name. I saw him every day, at the crack of dawn— right before the world went golden like egg yolks, and then one day... he didn't show up. [ Just like Zack. The promise of a date, unfulfilled. ] The gyokuto, she... she gave me medicine. Six took it from me. He wouldn't let me take it, and he taught me how to fight...
[ What is it about her that attracts men like that? Meddlesome, but not in the way so many others are. Helpful, holding her up, making sure she can take care of herself. Zack supported her through the beginning of selling her flowers... and Six supported her fighting to defend herself. Just like that flower business, it culminated into something greater. ]
He was kind. I don't think he knew how kind.
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[and she says it in such a way that Aerith will know it is meant for empathy - a help, to know that she doesn't carry the memory on her lonesome. Six is a scar on her heart, a fond memory, a vial of poison with no antidote that she carries with her as a good luck charm so that the thoughts might not decay.]
He was a good man, and a good friend. I'm sorry - it's never enough time, is it?
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It's okay. He returned... to where he needed to be. [ Raising her head, she smiles in that tire way, but she truly believes in what she says. ] We'll meet again, some day.
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I know you will. Call me terribly sentimental, but I would like to believe that for two people that want to see each other again, that you will. Even if you have to be patient until that time comes.
And when he comes back, you can properly scold him for leaving, before telling him all that occurred in the meanwhile.
[when. not if. it has to be so.]
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I didn't know you knew him, too. I should have known. You know all the best people here, Emily.
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[there's a softness to her expression that only reminiscing can bring.]
Friendship was its own lifeline, in that realm. I thought we were so fortunate, to both land in the same one, because I wasn't through with knowing him. But...
[it is what it is. she cannot change it. the vial of poison sits quietly in her medical bag.]
It's a shame I didn't know of our mutual acquaintance sooner. I could have told you about him getting pranked by an aka manto spirit.
[she can offer that bit of levity, at least.]
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Good thing you can tell me about it now.
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-so he was wrapping it up in toilet paper, because it's all we had - it looked like some sort of child's drawing by the end!
[that had been a memorable moment.]
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That's him, alright. So serious!
[ Even if her words sound chiding, she's fond of that about him. Six is, after all, one of the only two people in Jigoku that she's told about herself— though Emily joins a prestigious few that have seen the extents of Shinra's work upon Aerith. She smiles, looking aside for a moment, and downs her water. ]
He knew.
[ That's all she says; about her, about Cetra, about Shinra— all of it. ]
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...You trusted him that much.
[an observation, a question, but an understanding all the same.]
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Anyone who knew him did.
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And now I can think of a thousand things I'd tell him, if he was here - but those regrets will simply have to stay with me.
[carried behind her, a trail of broken Emilys, who spoke too much or too little, consigned to the fire. nothing ever fitting right. regret, guilt, the past - it burns on. they remain. she keeps it fed.]
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That's how you know you'll carry him with you forever. He'll never really be gone, Emily.
[ ...and offers that, a little bit of her own beliefs. ]
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[the smile she offers Aerith can't quite cover up the sorrow that's stirred in her heart, but it's truthful - as true as those dreams had been.]
Thank you - I hope you don't feel like I made you comfort me, when this should be about your reminisces.
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[ Ahem. ]
I'm sorry for bumming you out.
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[you can practically hear the quotes on her words.]
Sharing your emotions is nothing to apologize for, Aerith!
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Speaking from experience?
[ She knows Emily isn’t. ]
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I'm not sure what you mean.
[maybe I'm just tired of having the same fucking argument with you when I know you're just going to work yourself to death anyway. Andy's words, hot and caustic, kept alive in some corner of her heart to keep her humble. apology after apology, because it applies to everyone else. their emotions can come in, fill up space in the construct that is "Emily Dyer". there's room for it. the less of herself, the more space they have.]