violinist • insomniac • paper aeroplane • dandelion seed • feather • she sings • a stolen ring • fairytale gone wrong • cliche • ribbon • cadence • 3:28am • icarus • hallucination • letters to the moon • silhouette • breathless • start running • astronomer • comet in a bottle • reincarnation • mirage • filigree • everyone was dancing but me • nameless • exhale • fortuna major • vices and virtues • gunpowder and gunshots • china teacups • pinkie promises • chrysalis • piercing • north star • kerosene • dark horse • vanilla • the cat meowed • blink • text message • smirking • firefly • daisy chain • doe eyes • "where are you?" • typo • no shoes in the rain • heterochromia • swallowing silver spoons • a spoonful of sugar • mistaken identity • twisted ankle • touching the clouds • i told you so • lump in the throat • shoulders • sunburn • ambulance • talking nonsense • perfect • bare branches • pale • everyone found out • not enough • i owe you • she won't say it • russian roulette • dried flowers • actress • tattered notebook • smell the roses • justice • all that glitters • the cat and the king • grudge • apathy • all dolled up • decadence • blush • too easy • healing • then, i changed • write to me • caffeine • rumpled sheets • close your eyes • message in a bottle • morphine • fahrenheit • fighter • i lit a candle for you • after all this time • newspaper • pendulum • soundproof • skeletons in the closet • nightingale • arms crossed • prologue • epilogue • bully • i dare you • arms outstretched • woken up early • we're all made of stardust • dancers • hero • blurry • aftermath • even you • whatever you want to believe • a dance with the devil • roses are red violets are blue • lantern • they kept their promises • live fast and die young • interlaced fingers • i wish i tried harder • don't blink • envelope • congratulations • just look down • wayward • when you say nothing • as you wish • runs in the family • fight like a girl • the bright side • skyscraper • sunshine • bye, beautiful • don't mess with me • fire at will • fire and water • peek-a-boo • don't die before i do • wanderlust
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gimme messer-kun
• she sings
• touching the clouds
• lump in the throat
• not enough
• vices and virtues
or whatever
a messer-kun for kaname-san
He still can't.
Fighting through it is different, this time. Like clawing his way through fog and darkness, rather than fire and light. It's slower than he remembers. From the corners of his mind, he taps into what's always brought him back, every single time. A song. A voice. Faraway now, but unforgettable, ringing like an echo against the base of his ribs, welling in his throat.
Where is she?
Why can't he breathe?
Finally, he feels his fingers flex at his sides. His body finally responds to the battle within it, and his jaw is stiff, his ears ringing, when he finally forces out a gasp of breath. Messer wants to rip himself awake, throw himself into the momentum he knows, but the only action that he seems capable of is opening his eyes. It's bright. Cold, sterile. A medbay? He still hears singing, but for a long, dull moment, he can't distinguish between what's all in his head, and what's actually around him. Where, where. ]
Kaname...
[ He manages to shift, to look aside; oh, sh — ]
...san.
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The familiar words, the familiar voice, both are present, though quiet, off to the side. The bracelet lays on the bedside table directly in his line of sight, playing softly, stopping only to restart the song for yet another time. In the brief silence between plays, the only sound is a soft and steady breathing.
Kaname...
She sits in a chair beside the hospital bed, slumped over in the serene embrace of sleep. Her hair, normally just so, is a mess, red strand after red strand misplaced and loose. Someone had taken it upon themselves to at least remove her hair ornaments. A green blanket-- Reina's-- covers her, despite sliding down one shoulder. Her other is occupied by a sizable pink rabbit pillow placed under her head, apparently keeping the cover from falling to the floor. Makina.
Beneath the blanket, her Walkure outfit is visible. Dirt and dust cover it, as do a few small rips. Her face is partially wiped clean, but streaks are evident. Tears, old and new. If her state is any indication, she resisted sleep as long as she could.
...san.
Eyelids flutter, but she remains asleep. Mostly.]
Messer-kun... [It's quiet, murmured unconsciously. Brows furrow. The peace she was experiencing seems to be changing.]
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...he's alive. And Kaname...
She reacts, even from the hold of sleep, and Messer spends a long moment just watching, like it's the first time he's really seeing her. How her expression creases and then smooths again, as if she sees something on the backs of her eyelids that he cannot. He can guess, though.
And he'd probably be right, noting the tracks in the dust on her face. ]
Once again. [ To his chagrin, it takes effort to extend his arm to his side to reach for his bracelet. ] You let me return.
[ His fingertips touch the metal surface, but trying to grip it fails when pain surges up his arm. His teeth grit into a hiss, and the bracelet falls, clattering to the floor below. It blips softly, the song cutting out. ]
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Only a few moments are required for Kaname to regain her bearings, but they stretch into an eternity once she sees what's in front of her. His arm stretched out, tense and in pain. Gritted teeth trying to bite back any sound that could betray him. She hates seeing him like this, and yet, she can't stop staring.
He's awake. He's alive.
Blue eyes widen with worry and relief once again, having been set aside for rest however long ago. Just a few tears well up, the previous night having claimed most of them. She moves forward, more of a lurch than actually standing, the chair behind her moving backwards from the sudden movement. Knees hit the floor by his bed as she reaches down with one hand to pick up the bracelet.
The other hand moves to his, taking it gently, as if it might break, to guide it back to him. Soon, both meet by his side to rest of the bed, bracelet gripped tightly between them. Kaname opens her mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. She swallows, mouth dry from sleep, and she can't seem to care. A small smile tries to creep on her to face, despite her quivering chin.]
Messer-kun... Thank God.
[It's all she can manage before dropping her forehead to her arms, shoulders shaking with silent relief.]
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On the scale of things, that scale on which the notes of her voice have always resonated, Messer thinks that leaving Kaname speechless should have gone much, much differently. Her eyes flash before disappearing as she lowers her head, and the thought curves through him... don't cry. Not for him.
His gaze levels on her, the shock of red vibrant against the sheets and the strange, ashy color of his own skin. Beyond that, her shaking, the effects of what she's been through no kinder to her in wakefulness than they were in sleep. His chest feels tight, and his throat warm. It's not unlike the shift in equilibrium before a plummet — ]
It's alright. [ Messer's fond of that assurance, but it sounds different. His voice rasps, thick around the lump he suddenly has to swallow down. At his side, his fingers flex, tightening around Kaname's. ] ...thanks to you, Kaname-san.
[ Allowing his head to recline again, he closes his eyes, sealing in the feeling of her touch. ]
I'm alright.
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If wishes were jellyfishes...
The rasping attempt at reassurance is enough for her to raise her head and actually look him over. He's covered from his lower abdomen down, the rest having fallen away during his attempt to reach the bracelet they now hold. What's visible is covered in bandages and tubes and sensors, almost no skin showing through.]
You were-- [Words catch in her throat, and she bites her lip to keep from crying, eyes shutting tightly for a brief moment.]
I'm so glad. [She's able to open them again, to look at his face without having to resist the urge to break down. While tears do start once again, they stem from relief, if her tight smile is anything to go by. And it is. Kaname moves a hand to his face, gently brushing a bit of hair away from his sweat soaked forehead. Even then, her hand remains, slowly edging down the shape of his face to settle on his temple.
All the while, her eyes never leave his.]
You'll be all right. It'll take a while, but you're okay now. [The words are spoken to him as a comfort, but they're meant for the pair. Even as she sees him, it's still too much to process and accept, no matter how much she wants to. Smoke trailing the rapidly descending plane, him inside. The image is forever ingrained in her mind.]
Messer-kun.
[Different images can dull the ache, over time.]
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There's only so much he can do, watching the tears gather, clumping her lashes and reddening her cheeks, and Messer suddenly feels frustrated with his own inertness. It only takes a moment for him to lean into her touch, face tipping, brow pressing into her palm. Her hands are cooler than he'd thought. Maybe his face is just warm. He can't tell. It's a gesture so small, but as fortifying for him as he hopes it is encouraging for Kaname. ]
Because you sang. [ for me ] I came back.
[ He steels, inhaling, never one to withhold capability, or strength where he can give it. One elbow bends into the mattress, and he's pushing himself up to face her. All the sensors wired to him strain when he moves, but he figures, with grim determination, that it'd be awful bad luck to have his body give out now. ]
You were always singing. [ He'd let her know that too late, the bracelet's form suddenly sharp between them. ] You said you'd lost count of how many times I've protected you.
[ Pain echoes through him as he finally makes it onto his side. His vision swims, but he focuses on Kaname. On those eyes, bluer than any sky. ]
But you were always the one saving me.
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I'm glad I could do something to help you. I-- [Eyes snap open in shock when he moves, the wires pulled to their limit, his muscles taut under the bandages, strained from the simple act of rolling over. That familiar tightness in her chest quickly returns and makes it hard to breathe. A gasp escapes her.]
Messer! [Just his name.
Pain-- his pain, again-- is visible to her. Kaname reacts, letting go on the bracelet and falling against the bed, as close as she can get, to move her arm around him for support. Her elbow rests as gently as it can against his lower ribs with her forearm pressed diagonally to his back, palm flat against him between his shoulder blades. Her fingers softly ghost along his bare skin on one of the few uncovered areas. It's as much an embrace as a form of stability, all she feels she can do at the moment.]
Please, stop. Don't do this to yourself. There's no reason to!
[Urgency fills her voice, a helpless plea. She can't stand to see him in any more pain, especially when she feels responsible for it. The cause, both times. Every time. Even now, when he's supposed to be safe, he's hurting because of her.
Of course she knows it's out of her control, that she's being silly. Kaname isn't so naive as to think she could have prevented this. He made his own choices of his own volition. Regardless, in this moment, she feels responsible, and she wants it to end. His pain needs to end.]
I'm sorry, I'm so sorry...
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And now, having someone who won't allow him to fall, even if he would have done it again. A thousand times. However many it'd take to keep her safe. ]
There is. [ Messer balances on his other arm, fist clutched into the sheets at his side. By sheer force of will, he suppresses the shake in his nerves. It's his fault the clues he left were too few, too late. His fault that he'd staked everything on a fight he didn't even win. It's not like him, but it seems so faraway in comparison to how she says his name. ] There is a reason.
[ His temple meets hers, cheek to cheek as he leans into her heavily. Steadied by the crook of her arm, her warmth and the scent of dust and ozone makes his head spin. His forehead drops to her shoulder. ]
So don't apologize.
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[Kaname's words are soft and quiet, barely spoken above a whisper due to the sudden proximity. He can feel her heartbeat quicken and her shaky breath against his neck, the sudden tension in her shoulders when his forehead makes contact. She stays there for a moment, closing her eyes tightly in an attempt to calm herself.
Then she straightens, just barely, but enough to clear her knees from the floor. A small grunt escapes her once she takes on his weight, her hand moving from his hair to the back of his head to cradle it. Messer is solidly built and has a good nine inches on her, so she has to be careful. For both of them. Slowly, very slowly, she guides his form back to his proper place in bed, cautious not to bump him or disturb the monitors. To get his shoulder there comfortably, Kaname places a knee on the side of the bed so she can lean over him for a better angle.
She withdraws her hand from his back, still mindful of the equipment and his injuries. Even when he's back in bed, she remains, her other hand still idly playing with his hair. Turning, her knee is moved so she's now sitting on the edge of the bed, watching over him.]
Please, just stay here. Try to relax. [She pauses, a soft smile playing on her lips. The hand withdraws from his hair to reach to the bedside table and grab a small remote control. It's gently placed in his hand.]
Here, this is the way we'd prefer you to sit up. It controls the bed, Messer-kun.
[The last statement is meant as a bit of a tease.]
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...is the uninhibited thought barely formed before he can think twice. Messer's throat runs dry at the force of the feeling, but he doesn't get the chance to speak it through the haze before she's moving. Whether it's him or her, it's happened enough for him to be familiar. Except neither of them leaves this time. Her fingers slip through his hair, carving through his awareness with a clarity that makes his chest pang. Mustering up enough strength to move with her comes naturally after that, knowing how much more of a burden he's just made out of himself. Soon enough, he's flat on his back, the monitors soothing over to steady blips. He's irritated at them, at being confined, but he supposes he only has himself to blame.
Then the presence of the remote intrudes his peripherals, and he turns his face aside to stare at it. Probably for a little too long, really. Flatly at first, then with a sudden creased brow and set jaw. Messer's gaze flicks up Kaname's arm, settling on her face with some of his usual intensity. He knows that tone. ]
I don't need it.
[ Though that won't be his only dumb stunt of the day. (Clearly, given his track record lately.) Despite his insistence, he reaches up. He slips the remote from her grasp, discarding it. Instead, he returns to trail his fingertips along her palm. His movement is still slow, somewhat stilted. Pain is a factor, but so is wonder. An awe that she's actually still here with him. And him wondering — is this okay?
Messer's fingers lace with Kaname's, skin callused from years of piloting still soft against the grooves of her knuckles. ]
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Um, I'm going to sit you up a bit, so don't be surprised. [Another brief pause occurs before she presses a button, and the bed beneath his shoulders and torso begins to rise, stopping once it's at a forty-five degree angle. Moments pass again, then she slowly retreats from the bed entirely, still not looking directly at him. She takes a step back, setting the remote back on the night stand.]
I'm sorry. [Kaname crouches to pick up the green blanket and pink rabbit pillow from the floor, gripping them tightly in her hands.] Messer-kun, I'm not sure what to say now.
[Her voice trails off, though she stands, grasping the items like a lifeline, until she finally looks at him. The uncertainty--maybe even doubt-- from before is still there, but more obvious. She swallows, lump in her throat not seeming to move.
Seconds seem like hours until she finally takes a step forward, shoving her previously shed boots aside. Softly, she reclaims her spot on the edge of the bed, hands, as well as blanket and pillow, retreating to her lap. Kaname averts her gaze, growing more and more unsure with each passing second. It's almost a miracle she manages to speak what words she does.]
I... Can I-- [She looks back up at the bed, him there, eyes moving over the entire thing in question. Unformed words swirl in her head, fighting to come out, order not important. However, the ones that make it, are the safer of the options.]
Sorry, forget it. I'm being silly.
[A weak smile is what she can manage as she pulls into herself, almost ashamed she was even trying to ask.]
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Messer's silence says everything: he's not sure what to say now either. Since joining Delta Platoon, all he's done is out of the need to ensure her safety. As a pilot, but also as a person, the lone survivor of the Var's rampage through Marienburg. Messer has carefully upheld the wide margin of space he puts between him and her, depending on her, owing her everything, and yet never wanting to weigh her down with what he could become without her.
Except he tore down that barrier when all he thought he had left was his duty. When his body was all he had left to launch a gambit. It's ironic that now, at this crucial juncture between them, it's not what he has to say that rings clear as a bell in his mind, but something he was told.
I'm too busy with the present...
Of all the times. It coincides with the dip in pressure on the bed as Kaname sits, and Messer looks up, calmer. A ghost of something more sincere passes through his expression as she tries to find words for a question he's long since had the answer to. ]
My apologies, Kaname-san.
[ Again, his wrist tilts, palm tipping politely upwards to her, fingers outstretched. ]
Will you stay here with me?
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Kaname carefully shifts to turn and face him, drawing her legs on to the bed, back now to the chair she previously occupied. With her arm pushed against the end of his pillow, she remains upright, looking him over. Her eyes soften upon seeing his face, a sincere, almost content smile forming.]
I didn't want to leave. I think you have a right to know that.
[She breaks away from his gaze, moving to position the green blanket over her feet and legs, letting the rest lay on her waist. Once settled, she shifts downward just slightly, and leans back against the bed. Her arm is bent underneath her head to serve as a makeshift pillow, elbow shoved under the edge of his.
Her hand moves to his, brushing his outstretched fingers briefly, before reaching around his form to rest on the opposite cheek. Messer's cheekbone sports a nasty cut, and her thumb softly traces the adhesive strip shielding it. Kaname goes through that motion a few times, then gently urges him to turn his head enough to face her.
The smile he sees is nothing short of heartfelt and genuine when she looks at him. She exhales softly through her nose is what might very well be a small laugh.]
Hi.
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[ He intones right after her, alluding to his own choice in the process. Two choices that have lead them right here to one another after all. His voice is quiet and calm, sharp and clear as a starry night might be, but sparked with the truth of the statement also. Almost like a quip, though he'd deny the flicker of a smile if confronted about it. Instead, Messer is patient while she settles, her slim frame edging along his more severe outline, slow and mindful. Even in his injured state, he's too grounded to think that this is all just some fever dream. All the tension recedes, like a tide, like the waves of Ragna he's watches so many times before. Kaname tucks herself near him, proving how scant little separates them.
Exhaustion burns in him, dully, but his pulse ticks all the same. Her coaxing gets him to face her, pulled by the gentleness of her touch, unlike everything else he's felt recently. Scarred metal, shattered glass, fire, smoke. He blinks, eyelids heavy, but ultimately keeps looking at her. An anchor in the tide, gravity beneath a sky. Beautiful things that remind him of home. This is who she is, to him.
Even when her face is streaked with dust and dried tears. Messer shifts on the pillow to see her better, to chase that whisper of a laugh. ]
...and in saying it, I've been waiting to hear that.
[ A hello, rather than a goodbye. ]
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Then how about this? [She keeps her hand cupping his cheek, thumb lightly tracing--almost ghosting across-- the ridge of his brow to rest on his cheekbone. A shiver runs through her body. The room is cold, too cold even for a medbay, but while her body notices, her mind doesn't. She continues to stare into his eyes.]
Welcome back, Messer-kun.
[Kaname takes a slow, deep breath, hand sliding to the nape of his neck, fingers reach for his hair once again. She has to resist gripping it too tight. He's back, and he's safe, right next to her. Doing so would only hurt, not reassure her any more. Her arm moves to accommodate the new angle, but a quick, sharp feeling in her shoulder elicits a wince and an involuntary recoil.]
Ugh, geez. [She rolls her shoulder methodically, careful not to hurt it further, only looking back at Messer with a sheepish smile when she's done.] Sorry. I don't really know how long I was asleep like that. [On the chair, waiting for him.]
I should have asked, do you need anything? Another pillow, some water? I can be useful, you know. [All this is said with a grin, the message below the attempt at humor perfectly earnest and sincere.] Just tell me, okay?
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I'm home.
[ He'd probably be content to stay there for as long as she'd let him if not for the following action, the sharp jerk away from him. Whatever state he's in, he can't slough off his years of training, his years of looking after her, and he starts, gaze sharpening. Seeing that it's not immediately serious doesn't ease his expression, at least for a second or two.
Messer hadn't asked how long it'd been. Now it just seems in poor taste to do so, too sore a subject to invite back in. Instead, he shifts his arm over, clearing a space next to him close enough to where she won't have to reach so far. And — ]
You've done plenty for me already. Are you cold?
[ Yeah, he noticed. ]
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Against her somewhat better judgement, Kaname accepts his wordless invitation, moving slightly closer, his arm now almost trapped between them. Her eyes close, and she angles her head forward to softly rest her forehead against his shoulder. Her hand moves from the blanket to follow suit, resting there as well, fingers gently tracing his collarbone.
For a long, silent stretch, she stays like this, perfectly content to simply be. Of course she'll listen to anything he might say, even offer a brief reply of a kind if required, but she doesn't pose a question of her own just yet. When she does, it's an odd one. She opens her eyes and tilts her head to look at him.]
Be honest with me, Messer-kun. How's this shoulder doing? Does it hurt?
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She's asking him a question. The question. Almost immediately, on pure impulse, he replies. ]
No.
[ Yes. ]
I'm fine.
[ Or rather, that shoulder is fine, relative to the severity of every other injury he's sustained.
Meaning: everything hurts, but he's not going to be the first to admit it. "Be honest" is a command that seems to have ironically flown right over his head. It's just reflex by now to shrug it off, even if he's all but immobile thanks to it. Messer knows it, just like he knows Kaname knows it, and his gaze turns somewhat flat as he looks aside. ]
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I'll have to take your word for it, then.
[With a groan, the singer shifts, pushing herself up into a sitting position, and looks down at him. A small smile plays on her lips as she takes his hand, the one that was between them. She holds it, seemingly reluctant to let go, but carefully moves it, and his arm, away from him to the edge of the bed. He doesn't stay that way for long, not exactly.
Kaname scoots down and moves to lay in the space between his torso and arm, body to body, her head meant to rest on his shoulder. But she refrains from doing so, even when the rest of her is snug against him. She seeks his gaze, a new trepidation now forming in her eyes.]
Is this okay? [Will it hurt? Is it too soon? This is what you wanted, right?
So may questions whirl around her head. Coupled with the warmth of his body and the pounding of her own heart, a light haze begins to form in her mind. She blinks it back, focusing on him. He's injured, badly so, and she knows this has to be done carefully or not at all.
The thought of him still in pain, like she knows he is, needles her, the concern almost overwhelming. More than anything, Kaname wants to bury her face against him and grab hold, never letting go. The look in her eyes has to convey some of this, she's sure. Almost in a plea, she makes a request.]
Tell me what you're thinking. [She still hasn't laid her head down.]
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His fingers twitch as she arranges herself under his arm, nerves alight for so many reasons. Pain, yes, but also anticipation for Kaname's sudden closeness. It is what he wants, what he's always wanted, but he'd clamped down on the urge to pursue it as if his constitution had teeth. Replaced soft things with severity, with what he was good at. Flying. Fighting.
After it all, knowing he's thought about this before, at some point that seems far so off — is this okay? ]
I've heard that what I did resembles repayment of a debt. But that's not right.
[ Mirage asked him. He couldn't refute, couldn't affirm. Messer shifts his arm, bending the crook of his elbow to draw her closer to him, to hold her as well as he's able. His threshold for pain won't betray him now, not if he can help it. His cheek remains on the pillow, watching for any sign that he can chase away the hesitation in her eyes. ]
You don't sing intending to be repaid for what you do.
[ That's never what he's heard in her voice, in the long hours of having her to focus on. ]
I don't regret this, because my duty is to protect you.
[ Anytime he used that reasoning, it was because this lied at the crux, the axis of who they are. ]
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She lets out another sigh, this one almost assuredly amused. Fingers move over to lay on his chest, palm open across his heart to feel its steady rhythm.]
When you mention duty, it almost sounds as if I'm an obligation you have to attend to. I don't think that's what you mean. Correct me if I'm wrong.
[The tone in her voice is teasing, almost baiting him to play along, but a refutation would be most welcomed, depending on its nature. It's also a way to keep her mind off the state he's in. Of course he's out of the woods, he'll live. But any long term effects have yet to be determined. There are a number of possibilities. She heard the medical staff talking, and she left before any details were mentioned. Some information is best left unknown.]
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[ When the dust finally settles, it really is just the two of them. Messer thinks — this is okay. It's okay to stay alive, to be here. Under the glare of halogen, in the cold, feeling anything but. An unlikely moment, but one he can't take for granted, not in good conscience. Not now that they've sent barrier after barrier collapsing beneath this weight that grounds him, that rests his wings. In reply, he's silent, deathly so, invoking his own callsign. Some of his former sharpness glints through, even as his opposite arm shifts, crossing over his middle. Messer catches Kaname's hand and steadies it over his heart. ]
Don't mistake me, Kaname-san.
[ His fingers tighten over her hand, willful and kind, meeting her playfulness with a piercing gaze. He's seen it, how she's content to play off her concerns and her whispers of melancholy by offering smiles, by placating. They're not so dissimilar. Except she has always been too honest, and he has always been too headstrong.
His thumb trails over the top of her hand, over the most delicate of bones, atop the sound of his heart. His gaze stays intent on her. ]
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Finally, as if any lingering doubts are pulled from her, she gives in, relaxing. The tension leaves her, and Messer should feel the weight of her head against him, like he's an anchor keeping her from retreating. She shivers more, for many reasons, yet the cold isn't among them.]
I don't... think I can. [Words escape her, much like her senses. Locked in this connection, attention focused all on her, Kaname feels knots forming inside, more intense and prevalent than anything she's felt before. Concerts, under a single spotlight, media interviews, leading auditions, or giving reports to packed rooms, even singing on the front lines-- all of those pale in comparison.
Eyes not leaving his (still unable), she takes his hand in her own, tightening as well. Quietly, gently, she guides them both towards her, movement ceasing once her lips are placed softly on his bandaged knuckles as if she's whispering to him.]
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