RP: YSS Miharu Mission 5, Aftermath (4th day)

"I do make mistakes," Melisson returned, giving Nyton a hooded look. "My mishandling of Prince Tio at the International Racial Conference was one such. Over-emphasis on the need to surrender while assuming that he was aware of the minutiae I discussed with his Senator the day before was an error on my part."

"Had I been able to fathom that the data sharing amongst your political party was this poor, I would've taken measure to teach the notion far more tactfully instead."

"While I was willing to give you the benefit of the doubt I have noticed a history of mistakes made. Imprinting me was one of them." Nyton said off hand before quickly switching subjects.

"I am curious to know whether the appearance of the Varin in that one dream really is what they look like. I figure some of it was just my own silly whims. However when I recognized one of your victims from my dream I thought that maybe you filled in the details with accurate depictions. I would like to know more about the Varin." he continued.

Melisson looked back at him.

It was a long, weighty look.

Then slowly, deliberatingly, she only said: "We are done talking." Her hands retrieved the white string, and she started toying with it once more.

Nyton leaned back on his chair, looked at Melisson and smirked.

"So this is how it ends? No further locking of wits? No attempt to break my mind? What happened to that stoic demeanor back at Lor or that arrogance back on your ship? What will people think when they see the great and fearsome Melisson reduced to a petulant child playing with string. " he asked condescendingly.

"How the mighty have fallen. What could I have said that upset you? After all superior existences like yourself were supposed to be beyond such things like pouting. So much for the Shosa's war trophy." he then taunted as he changed his approach from mildly confrontational to more openly hostile.

The words did not seem to bother Melisson in the slightest. As clever fingers created patterns in the string, she merely replied: "Are you hearing impaired, or is it simply that you enjoy wasting your saliva? We are done."

There was a lot on Tom's mind. Without a ship to care for, he had given himself up to his caretaker role, trying to communicate and care for as much of the crew as possible.

So many different threads pulled at him for attention. In a way, it was similar to multitasking in the subdeck, but in many ways it was more challenging.

He rubbed his eyes as he stepped out of his room. He had slept poorly and could feel the bags forming under his eyes. Still, he forced himself into a proper uniform and out of his room to greet the day.

Yukari and he had made plans to talk to Kotori together, but the Raltean had asked his love for some time alone with the Taisa before she joined him.

He walked with purpose, each step measured and deliberate, meant to clear his mind for the upcoming conversation.

There were important things he had to say to Kotori, and he needed his entire attention devoted to this purpose.

Their last conversation had ended sourly. As Tom stood in front of the door to Kotori's room, he took a deep breath and promised himself that this one would end differently.

He knocked.

Kotori's voice sounded out from beyond the not-so-soundproofed door (or was that some finicky trick from the Mokuren's KAMI?). "Yes?"

Nyton then gave a look of dismay. "Oh and here I thought you may be trying to psych me out or something." he said with a hint of disappointment. The man closed up the notebook and tucked the pen away.

"Hmh, a shame. It is not everyday I get to interview a being like you." Nyton said as he stood up.

@Nyton:

The interpreter's digits kept busy playing cat's cradle. Her crimson eyes were on the string, and not on the man beyond her confinement.

"Goodbye, Nyton."

Tom cleared his throat.

"Hello. It's Freeman-Juni. May I come in?"

@Tom:

The room's occupant simply replied: "It's open."

Ok. Here we go.

Tom took a steadying breath and stepped into the room.

"Hello, Taisa," he said from the entrance with a deep bow. "How are you feeling?"

@Tom:

On entry, Tom saw that Kotori was sitting upright in her hospital bed. He knew Kotori for an early riser, so, her not having a case of bed hair and looking wakeful was not a surprise. In fact, it was something of a good sign - if she had the energy to answer the whims of her biological clock, she was probably well on her way to recovering from the ordeals they had gone through.

"Tom," she gave him a simple greeting, merely uttering his name.

Her eyes weren't giving him much - Tom had no frame of reference as to the Ketsurui Samurai and how many cultivated a flat expressionless stare; a way of presenting themselves less as people and more as elementals of controlled violence. Even Eve, Meni, Mani and Melisson had represented other things. Not to mention Kotori was not quite a complete samurai - both to her pride and to her chagrin.

But Tom was a people person, and while he did not know samurai, he did know Kotori: he had been her subordinate for more than half her life, had witnessed her gallant ferocity in the face of danger just as much as her cowed vulnerability when at odds with her mother.

Looking at those eyes, Tom sensed Kotori was ambivalent about seeing him; unsure of if she was looking forward to talking to him or not; both too polite and too brave to avoid confrontation.

"To live is to fight," was the maxim Kotori had once taught him. By the angle of her chin, by the poise of her body and the rest of her body language, Tom sensed a fight was what Kotori expected. Not too unlike how predatory Mefpralphra had felt, Kotori felt dangerous: in a second, the blankets could be flung aside and her hand could close around his throat.

Any wishful thoughts Tom had for an open invitation to talk were crushed as soon as he witnessed the majestic detachment that was more fitting for her role as a princess than her role as a friend.

A myriad of emotions passing through his mind: Anger. Fear. Guilt. Relief. Regret.

But what made him approach her bedside slowly was the small flame of a different kind. He shielded that flame with a hand to his chest, his fingers resting on the spot Eve's sickle had pierced through him.

The small light flickered as he met her gaze, the stare of those amber eyes like a gust of wind, but it did not die.

He saw Kotori's body tense. In this room, alone, did she feel like a cornered animal?

When he reached the lip of the bed, he dropped his hands to his side and looked down at her, his lips tight as if he were trying to stem the flow of a river within him.

"I... I'm happy that you're alive," he said, finally. "I'm happy that fate has been kind enough to give me this chance, despite everything I've done to you. I know I do not deserve it, yet here I am."

Slowly, his knees brought him to the ground, and his dipped his head.

"Kotori, I am so sorry. Sorry... about everything."

"You have saved my life. Your actions have contributed to stave away a danger to the safety of the people of our Empire," Kotori, looking down at him, said with control and dignity. "For that, you have my gratitude."

"But you are not sorry for everything," she then said in a terrible whisper. "You are not sorry about Yukari."

The words struck Tom like a dagger to his chest, drawing a pained expression from the Raltean as he stared at the ground. His mouth opened then shut quietly...

Tom knew how to talk to people, how to draw out qualities that encouraged them in times of need, or, at least, gave them reason to consider something outside their bleak perspectives. He helped shoulder those loads because he cared about those people in his life, wanted to see them happy.

All those interactions had given him a library of words he could draw from... but in here, alone with Kotori, they were worthless, because Kotori was one point of a triangle shared by Yukari and he, fundamentally bound to each other and strengthening over the years.

But, unbeknown to him, the edges of that triangle had become razor sharp, cutting deeper and deeper into the three as their fates intertwined.

Just how much blood had been drawn?

He drew a deep breath.

"By your grace... I survived," he started. "We had a common mission. My part in all of this... it was no more or less important than the others. Together, we spilled our blood, but I know of several times I should have died that day."

He trembled inside a little under the gaze he knew was boring into his skull. Was this how a confession felt?

"But... Yukari... she would have been devastated if I had fallen, so... so you did everything you could to protect her feelings, even while doing so hurt you. And I spat in the face of that. I was blinded by my stupid self-righteousness."

His blood raced in his veins, but the shame that piled on him pressed down on him, made him want to curl into a ball and die right there. But he did not cry. Despite wanting to crack apart below that amber gaze, he owed it to Kotori to retain his dignity.

"And for all this pain, all you wanted was my faith in you and the sacrifices you were making. And I couldn't even do that... I couldn't even show that modicum of respect to you. No. I even rubbed Yukari in your face, didn't I?"

"I'm such a fool... I stole her... the most important person in your life... and I laughed the whole time. I am selfish and deserve nothing but your condemnation. But... I..."

Finally, he looked up to meet those powerful eyes, trying to hold firm before the storm of amber that threatened to blow him away.

"Kotori, I am truly sorry."

To what extent Melisson's pride had been shredded Nyton could only imagine. The fact that one of the greatest scourges of the galaxy was now sitting in a glass and unable to do anything more than ignore him was deliciously satisfying. Despite still remaining cautious there was a satisfying feeling of triumph at the sight.

Warriors of certain caliber he believed deserved respect even after being vanquished. Melisson he believed deserved none of that. She was the only remaining piece of Mefpralphra, who had been so despicable to him that death was even too good for her. So much murder and misery had been wrought by Mefpralphra, Melisson, and her proxy spawn the Mishhu. Whatever humiliation Melisson felt now ought to be recorded.

Nyton turned on his camera and took one more picture of Melisson ignoring him and playing with cat's cradle. Barring any further interaction from the former warlord he then folded up his chair and departed the medical center.

"Have a nice life, Mel." Nyton said as he left.

Rolf had been left with little to do that day, and left himself with strolling around the Hoshi, idly considering certain amounts of trouble he could get himself into. That was when he came to the fork in the passageways, and spotted Nyton coming out the Medical Lab. His eyes idly trailed to the wall to his right, and he was reminded of the fact that Melisson was still in holding near-by. The interpreter had been reduced to a trophy sitting pretty in a pod at the whim of Suzuka Yukari. The very thought made him grin from it all.

Though he wondered just what exactly Nyton was trying to do. Knowing him, Rolf figured, he was trying dig out some tactical information to get the upper-hand on their remaining enemies. The Nepleslian was like that, always aiming for the highest card and gunning for every opportunity to get it. Even so, Rolf felt he had his own questions for the interpreter, and decided he wanted to get those out before they flayed her corpse. He almost walked in before recalling something.

Melisson was bad of all bad, you didn't just walk in on that. You had to put a little effort in your greeting, just as he was sure Nyton had. To prepare, he ran off to his room, where he, Kyou, and a few other sprites had been sleeping and gathered just what he needed.

A few minutes later, Rolf came into the Med Lab, floating off the ground as a victim to inertia's whims. On his face, in hentai-kamen style, were a pair of teal-striped panties, Kyou's in particular. He kicked off a table, and floated towards Melisson's little prison. His stare upon her was intense, unfailing, and of confident certainty, even has face came to lightly impact the glass of the hemosynth chamber, pressing his visage into the transparent wall. Rolf stayed there for a moment, floating, arms somewhat hanging free, before crossing them.

"Ganbare." Rolf said in an almost disgusting grimness, his stern, serious visage watching her, face still pressed.

@Tom:

Kotori gave Tom a dire look. Softly, she told him: "I understand your good intentions, Tom... but I'm not ready to forgive you. I don't want to forgive you. On some level, I feel I need to dislike you."

"I appreciate Yukari enough to know to let her go so that she will be happy," she said. "I do have a modicum of respect for what you are, but for the selfish me, your only value in my eyes is how much you can make Yukari happy."

"But she is not your conquest. She is your equal mate. If those pretentions lose the veneer of truth your posturing gives them, if you abuse her while fitting her in your mold for humanity, I swear..."

"I will hate you for it."

@Rolf:

Melisson stared at the masked Rolf. Then, slowly, her shoulders started heaving. The interpreter lowered her hands, her string forgotten as she started laughing.

Tom stood up, careful to keep his expression neutral.

"Yukari is the most important person in my life," he said firmly. "What you saw in that nightmare... is not me, nor will it ever be me. I will never force my ideals upon her like that."

His expression hardened, his next words spoken with an edge to them.

"I will die before I let it come to that."