Sink or swim

Mele sobbed into his shoulder as Fali held her tightly, both of them kneeling on the floor. All thoughts of whatever she’d wanted from that night were gone.

It took a lot of coaxing, but slowly, as his shoulder grew damp, Fali pieced together the story. Akam - Mele’s assailant, the reason she was in a wheelchair - had been murdered. His life sentence had partly been for his protection; the public had bayed for his execution as if it were medieval times. But that sentence hadn’t been enough for someone. Someone had gotten themselves arrested, jailed in the same facility… and strangled the boy.

It was the worst possible timing, and Fali knew what it would do to Mele’s mind. She hadn’t wanted Akam to die. She hadn’t even wanted him to go to jail, despite what he’d done to her. And now, of course, she blamed herself - though the only sounds from her were raw wails and choked sobs.

He stroked the back of her head, urging her silently to let it all out. Words wouldn’t reach her yet. He was shaken too, but nowhere near the depth of pain she was drowning in. So he whispered into her ear - small, simple things that meant nothing, but at least reminded her that he was still there.

Finally, her sobs softened enough for her trembling voice to break through.
“It’s not fair… it’s not fair… why couldn’t it have been me…”

Each word cut through Fali like a knife. That last sentence pierced the deepest. It wasn’t forgiveness anymore - it was love. Not the romantic kind they shared, but the pure, human kind that came from truly caring about someone. And now that person was gone.

He spoke softly.
“You can’t control what other people do-”

Her reply came sharper than he expected, dripping with pain.
“I don’t care! Why did they kill him? It’s my fault! I shouldn’t have looked so powerless. I was thinking about myself!”

She screamed into his shoulder so hard he could feel her teeth through the fabric. When her voice returned, it was shredded.
“It feels so different from when the soldiers didn’t come home. I knew that was just war. But this… I killed a person, Fali. I killed someone!”

Her sobs redoubled, her mind spiraling as if the voices inside her were tearing at what little calm she had left. Fali tightened his arms around her.
“You know as well as I do that you didn’t kill him. You didn’t go in there to hurt him, you went to help him. He should’ve been safe. None of this is your fault. Not by a long shot.”

She cried harder, forcing out the words between gasps.
“It’s easy for you to say… you’ve killed people… you’re used to it…”

That hit deep. He felt his own eyes sting. The words hurt, though he knew she didn’t mean them.
“Well, that’s uncalled for… but yes, you’re right. Even so, please listen to me, Mele. It wasn’t your fault. Not at all.”

“Yes, it was!” she shouted, voice cracking. “I dressed meek and frail because I wanted it over with! I chose to do that! And that made everyone hate him even more!”

She broke again, sobbing until the tears seemed to run dry. Then, just as suddenly, her breathing steadied. The fight drained from her voice.
“I’ve had enough of this world,” she said quietly. “I hate it.”

The contrast from just a few moments earlier - when she’d called herself reborn - was heartbreaking.

And then came the words that shattered him.

“We should just leave it.”

It wasn’t hard to understand what she meant.

He pushed her upright, steadying her as her face stayed blank. His voice came out firm, brows furrowed.
“Mele. That’s the worst thing you could do right now. That’s called giving up.”

She tilted her head slightly, eyes unfocused.
“But I want to just… give up.”

He gripped her shoulders tighter. He’d seen that look before - the emptiness. The same look he’d seen in fellow pilots who’d gone too long without rest, who’d witnessed the worst of humanity and been broken by it. They’d walk around like ghosts, dull and hollow, until one day they’d suddenly be cheerful again… and crash during a strafing run without ever trying to pull up.

“Mele,” he said quietly. “If you give up… what will become of me?”

She looked at him then, eyes flat, a fragile smile trembling at the corner of her lips.
“You could give up too…”

“Mele.”

The sharpness in his tone made her flinch. When she met his gaze, he took a deep breath, voice softer now but steady.
“No one’s forcing you to stay in showbiz. But did today mean nothing to you? Was it all bad? Is it really worth throwing away everything we’ve built together?”

He fought back tears as his voice cracked.
“I know what you’re feeling. I know it seems like everything’s been taken from you. But look. Look at us. We’re still here. We’re still together. Not even an hour ago we were happy. And there are still so many things we haven’t done yet.”

The tears finally fell, running hot down his cheeks. His words began to tremble.
“I can’t live without you anymore, Mele. That much I know. So please… live, even if it’s just for me. I can’t stand to see you like this, when moments ago you were laughing. I love you, Mele. Don’t ever forget that.”

For a long moment, there was silence - stunned and heavy.

Then Mele’s eyes softened. The tears returned, glistening in the gold light of the evening. Her lips quivered downward as her voice broke.
“Fali… I’m so sorry…”

She reached out weakly, and he guided her into his arms again.

This time they both cried - quietly, helplessly - holding each other as if the world beneath them had dropped away, and only their embrace kept them from falling.