Chapter 25 ~ Shortcoming

Reconciliation, (noun): A failure to make one's own suffering receive justice.
To make amends as the victim is to justify your own abuse, both to the world and to the self.

The following day found Kurai restless with anticipation, though she still refused to speak a word of it to anyone. She alternated between reading with varying degrees of focus and going for prolonged, enervated visits to the garden with frequent deep breaths and skyward gazing.

It was during an evening trip to the garden that she heard an unusual degree of chatter getting closer. The voice was unmistakable, and it clearly belonged to no man of the household. The novae faced the direction of the speakers while subconsciously keeping her back to a wall.

"Hey, Kurai, guess who showed up? I didn't know you were writing to each other." Robin entered the garden alongside Irene. She was dressed far lighter than usual, with only a thin coat and a dress as her main attire. The intent was clear; she had no place to hide any weapon.

The tension in the air grew to a level even Robin couldn't ignore.

"Um... Is everything okay, you two? Is there something I should know about?" The maid glanced between the two. The apothecary's stoicism was met only by the novae's thinly veiled fear.

"...We're fine. Thank you, Robin. You may return to what you were doing."

"Are you sure everything's okay, Kurai?" He seemed doubtful.

"I said. We're fine."

"...Alright." He gave a curtsy and left the two alone, though Kurai couldn't shake the feeling she was being watched from a window soon after.

"What are you doing here? I said three days, not one!"

"Would it have made a difference?" the older woman replied calmly.

"...No, it wouldn't have." This feeling of dread would have only festered worse, as bad as it was now. It wasn't helped by the silence that showed no sign of being broken by the apothecary. "Why are you staring at me?"

"...You were the one requesting my presence. Here I am."

"You should have something more to say than that! Saying how sorry you are, or assuring me you'll never do anything to hurt me again, or... or, I don't know, at least something!"

"...Nothing I can say would ever be enough." Only now was her brow cinching up with traces of regret.

"Not even asking for forgiveness?!"

"I won't ask for something I know I do not deserve. It... is not my place to request the impossible. So I have tried to give you space so you won't have to see me again, but I owed you a response to your request as well..."

"Stop using your guilt as an excuse! Do you know how many times I've woken up covered in sweat and fearing for my life because of you? Do you know how much easier things would have been for me if you even made an attempt at amends?! I already said I don't care about there being 'enough'! I just want a sign that there's... something! Something more than acting like I don't exist and will just go away."

"That's not what I was intending by—"

"Well, it is what's happening! I... I've had so many doubts, Irene. As if in the eyes of the world, I really am in the wrong for showing mercy after all."

"...Is that why you asked me to come here, so you can fix that mistake?"

"...No." Kurai sat on a stone bench, burying her head in her hands. "I just... I want to stop looking out into the streets and fearing for my life when I see any faces. I want to hear that I didn't screw up even if only this one time." Tears were dripping down to stain her skirt.

"..." Irene's mouth briefly opened once again, yet it still closed without letting her words out of their cage.

"In fact, this was a mistake too, wasn't it? I shouldn't have asked you to come. What else was I expecting? I'm not going to keep you any longer. You can go."

The apothecary could feel her nails digging into her own palm with how tight her fists were squeezing. The sight of the novae was pitiful enough to watch as it was, but she was seeing far more. It was the same Kurai crying in different forms, each an increasing level of mutilation. Stripped flesh and broken bone and blood staining every inch of her. Those same half-dead husks rang as echoes as Irene could feel each of them all slumped, crying so painfully. Pain that she caused.

Who could see all that destruction and utter a mere 'I'm sorry'? She had failed in her judgement just as much as she had failed in her actions. There wasn't a more shameful way things could have gone. And at the heart of it, it was her own fear that she succumbed to. That same fear was holding her tongue now, and it was still hurting the same innocent soul. There really was nothing that could possibly be sufficient to say at this point.

More than anything, one stray comment passed through the apothecary's mind.

'Does any of that make me any less alone in the world?'

It was the final cry of a wounded animal. One that should have been put out of her misery, and yet here she still was. That pain burrowed deeper than any others. So deep that the girl left it unstated altogether, yet Irene could still tell how much it affected every word coming out of that wayward girl.

"I said you can go. Please, stop staring at me like that..."

That innocent mind even now was sparing her, when any number of ways of revenge would have just cause at this point. And yet she only spoke things as naïve as saying any half-hearted effort being good enough, no matter how much it would fail at truly atoning for such sins.

Maybe, though, just this once, that naïveté was right.

"...I think you're very brave, Kurai. It's... impossible to even imagine myself going through what I put you through. I wouldn't have blamed you no matter what you did to me. There's only one thing you got wrong. You didn't make a mistake. You made a decision."

The supposedly brave girl slowly lifted her tear-stained face from her shaking hands.

"I want to make that clear more than anything else. I... I am undeserving of many things, but that doesn't mean you're in the wrong for giving it regardless. That takes a lot more strength than you know, and a lot more strength than I have."

"...Then why have I been feeling so miserable about it all, if I'm really this strong, brave girl you're talking about?"

"It's because you're making the same error I did when I feared your potential. You're holding yourself to the standard of what a theoretical 'average human' would do in your circumstance. It's true that you've been doing some very not-human things, but... That doesn't mean you're wrong for doing it. And besides... even humans do a lot of things that the 'average human' shouldn't be doing."

"...Then what should I be doing?"

"That depends on what you want."

"I..." Kurai wiped the tears from her eyes, sniffling into a handkerchief briefly. "...I want someone to hold me and stroke my hair. I want to be told everything is going to be alright..."

"Ah, that's not something I..." Irene glanced to the side, mustering up her courage once again. She stepped forward, carefully reaching a hand out. Even with Kurai sitting down, the apothecary still was the shorter of the two. Not that it mattered, as the novae bade the older woman to sit beside her, so that Kurai could lay her head on the other's lap. Irene slowly began rubbing her hand through Kurai's hair. "I guess this is something the 'average Irene' shouldn't be doing."

"I like this Irene a lot more." Kurai closed her eyes as she let herself be petted time and time again. To her, ignorant of the city around her, all the problems in the world seemed to have gone away.

"...Say, have you given it some thought since you learned of your origins? You said you wanted to speak with Lord Meus about it."

"Miss Irene, I just got my good mood back. Please don't break it so quickly." Her smile faded along with her optimism.

"Ah..."

An awkward silence fell over the pair for several minutes. Kurai only made her will known by coaxing more petting out of the apothecary's hands.

"...No, I haven't said a word of it to him," she eventually answered, long after the question had faded away.

"Not yet, then..."

"I didn't say 'yet'. I think this is something I need to keep to myself. If telling them would hurt as badly as it did for me, I wouldn't want to inflict that on anyone I care for."

"Ah..." There was a wave of shame for the apothecary that came with hearing that. "Well, I don't think they would be as personally affected as you are. You wouldn't have to worry about that. Knowing the boys, they'd only care for you and want to make sure you're handling it well."

"That's the part that gets to me the most. I don't want to hurt them, but I wish the knowledge would be as painful for them as it was for me. I wish it would hold that much weight for anybody else, so that my silence on it would mean something. Is that selfish of me, Miss Irene? But I have to be honest with you that it's what my heart wants. Knowing that other people could be hurt instead of just me."

"...That's a complicated feeling, certainly. But I don't think it's entirely selfish or unreasonable. When something matters so much for you, it's only natural to wish others would care the same way you do. Still, you shouldn't blame them when they turn out to not hold the same regard. It's not out of incompassion, that I can assure you."

"You say that, but it's what my heart wants, and I know enough at this point to tell you that no amount of logic or reason is going to override the heart."

"Well, it's up to you who you tell, at the end of the day."

The larger of the two women rolled over onto her side, as to get a new angle as she continued to use the apothecary's lap as a pillow. She showed no inclination of continuing the topic, instead finding interest in staring into the small woman's tummy and poking a finger into it. She had all the expressions of a kitten as she did so.

"Hey, what are you doing that for...?"

"Soft," she answered, not pulling her finger away.

"That's not a compliment to tell a lady, Kurai..."

"Why not? I like it."

"Well I don't! Can you please stop this already?"

"..." In an act of malicious compliance, the novae did so only to roll forward so that her face was buried in Irene's tummy instead.

"What am I going to do with you..." the apothecary griped, leaning back against the bench they were sitting on.

"Don't ever hurt me again." It was a low murmur against Irene's belly. Muffled yet still coherent, if not apropos of nothing.

"What...?"

"I said don't ever hurt me again." She turned to the side to un-muffle herself, gazing a sidelong stare up at Irene. "I like feeling soft things. I like holding this soft you. I like curling up under the blankets with a book. I like putting a smile on people's faces, and trying new outfits, and gazing at the stars. Please don't ever try to take any of those from me again. I'm not a bad person for wanting things..."

"...Poor dear." Irene resumed petting the big girl's head. "Fine. I promise."

A smile was Kurai's only response, and it was sincere enough to make anyone's heart flutter.

"...Kurai, I have been thinking. Would you be interested in going on an outing? There's a zoological garden that I think you might find enlightening."

"Oh? What's that? I'm guessing by the name it has something to do with plants?"

"Ahaha, I think you focused on the wrong word. It actually has to do with animals. I wonder how many animals you've seen before in your life?"

"I've seen lots! There were all these mice, you see, and I've also seen squirrels in this very garden, and birds, so many species of them..."

"Sounds like small animals mostly, then."

"Ehe... I like small things." She poked the apothecary again, but her grin faded into confusion at the frown she received at such a remark. Quickly bouncing back, she wisely switched topics. "While I'm at it, there's something I'd like to show you too! You see there are these books that Robin introduced me to recently...!" She began simplistically, like the beginnings of a web being spun by a spider. It was no less ensnaring as she only went on and on about her latest interest. Irene's smile was becoming increasingly affected.

"That's nice," Irene eventually interrupted. Her attempts at polite quelling were completely ignored as Kurai kept going on at length. "You'll have to show me one of them sometime..." When the second attempt failed, she had no choice but to gently persuade the girl off of her lap. "Ahem... I'd love to keep chatting, Kurai, but it is getting late. Would this upcoming weekend work fine for you for the zoological outing?"

"Oh, uh, right. I guess it is getting dark out..." Kurai sheepishly scratched her cheek realizing how much time she had eaten. A part of her still wished to keep going. "Yes, that works for me! I'd love to see all those things you told me about," she carelessly continued, neglecting the part where she herself had done all the talking and the apothecary had not actually told her anything.

"Yes, lovely. I'll see you again then. I bid you a good evening, Kurai."

"Bye, Miss Irene!" The novae waved her off excitedly. It was only after the woman left that Kurai's mind kept wandering. "...Ah, no. 'I bid ye a good time as well, mademoiselle,' wouldn't it be? Or 'Have a charmed day outside of mine presence', maybe..." Her face scrunched in consternation as she debated how a mature lady should give her regards.