Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

There was something about the smell of grass on a summer day that Kuro-Usagi had yet to place. It was sweet, like honey, but she couldn’t imagine that smell coming from the bitter green—and she would know. She often reminisced to a time when she was still a child and her parents were around, sitting in the green hills of the moon rabbit tribe. Back when little-Usagi crept about the territory that was her parents’ eye-line and figured; when a rabbit, do as the rabbits do. So, being the silly-not-quite-rabbit that she was, she took a handful of the green mulch and proceeded to stuff it in her mouth. The taste was, to her dismay, disgusting. On par with Asuka’s cooking. Even her parents’ twinkling laughter could not quell her tears as she realized that, as much as she may resemble one, she was most definitely not a bunny. For a long time after that, little-Usagi would watch the furry creatures that wandered the hills and ask them, why in the world are you eating that?

Now, some centuries later, it was her that was sitting on a green slope, watching the younger community members explore the newly cultivated land. The sky was blue, the pond at the base of the hill was full and clean, the breeze was pleasant, and her kids were finally relaxing. Her hands clenched at the land under them and after three seconds, released, letting the tension in her shoulders and face seep out into the earth.

“Kuro-Usagi, it’s good for you, I promise!”

Nevermind , her face twitched right back into a tense scowl.

Next to her sat three disturbances. The most pressing disturbance at the moment was wearing a red ribbon in her hair and holding a handful of grass out to her.

“I agree. I once partook in an enlightening debate about the pros and cons of eating grass with a cow,” the second disturbance, with a long white coat and chocolate brown eyes pressed, “the cow was right, grass is nourishing for the soul.”

“In fact,” the final disturbance loudly proclaimed, with its bright amethyst eyes and blonde hair, “I once read in an article that grass can cure most—if not all—skin-care issues.”

On her lovely, peaceful hill, sat three problem children. Asuka to her right, Yō to her left, and Izayoi to her farthest left. All three of whom were graciously holding a handful of grass in her direction. 

One breath in, hold, one breath out, hold. Calm , Kuro-Usagi.

“I,” she started carefully, “am not eating grass.”

“Oh come on! Please?” the loud protest made her wince, “it’s for science!”

Indra , she cursed to herself. If she had not spent years learning meditation techniques in the fifth gate then surely by now she would’ve thrown these kids out. That’s not true, something in her head told her. Shut-up, she responded unceremoniously.

But the voice was right. For as much as she could feel her anger building, a part of it was dissuaded by the fact that the three children were finally joking around again. Although the bags under Asuka’s eyes were still there, and even though she still caught Yō poking her legs, or Izayoi staring into nothing, hand on his abdomen, at least they were starting to smile again.

“And it tastes great,” Yō added on to her companion’s provocations, bringing Kuro-Usagi back to earth.

She sighed, “For the last time , I’m not going to eat it.”

“It really does taste good though,” Yō continued, “if you can’t take my word for it then my friend Churtly, she’s a horse, can vouch for—”

She felt something inside snap, “No, it really doesn’t!”

A hush fell over the hill, save for the sounds of the kids throwing rocks into the pond. She processed what she’d said, feeling a part of her curl up and die in resignation. She closed her eyes and slumped over. The grins forming on her friends’ faces were practically audible. They’re like sharks.

“Oh? What’s this?” Izayoi turned to Asuka, “I was wondering why Kuro-Usagi wasn’t falling for this one but maybe, just maybe, it’s because she’s more experienced in this field than she let on?”

Kuro-Usagi wanted to cry.

“Hmm, quite the hypothesis dear friend, although I find myself inclined to believe it. Yō, my esteemed grass-specialist, what do you think?”

This was it. All the face she’d garnered these past months, gone. 

“All the evidence points to that conclusion, yes,” the brunette nodded.

Asuka turned to her,

“Kuro-Usagi, all I ask for is the honest truth. Have you or have you not eaten grass before?”

.

.

.

“I mean,” she started, “I-” three expectant faces gazed at her, “I-” their grins were barely concealed, “I’m-” she needed a way out of this, “No?” But she’s a horrible liar.

“Pfft, HAH!” Izayoi crumpled in laughter, “I knew it!”

The three of them chortled like hyenas.

“When did you do it?”

“ When? Don’t you mean why ?”

“Kuro-Usagi, would you like to debate the pros and cons of eating grass?”

She groaned and fell back into the hill, hair splaying out around her head. 

“Leave me alone ,” she begged, “everyone’s done it, it’s a part of growing up.”

“Funny, I don’t recall eating grass as a part of my coming of age experience,” Izayoi chuckled.

“Likewise, what a shame to have missed out on such a thing,” Asuka continued.

Yō, on the other hand, just shrugged and kept petting the bird that was resting on her hand.

“It’s ok Yō, you get a free pass on this one,” the blonde problem child noted, because gods know that Yō has definitely munched on some grass before.

“Wait a second! Why are you making fun of me ? Yō’s eaten it too! And she probably even enjoyed it,” Kuro-Usagi exclaimed. Yō shot her a thumbs up.

“Comes with the territory,” Asuka said, “Yō doesn’t count.”

Kuro-Usagi grabbed her ear and pointed to it, “I’m literally part rabbit!”

“So is that why you did it then?” Izayoi asked

Shoot.

“No, that’s not the point I was trying to make, you’re taking words out of my mouth-”

“It is , isn’t it?”

Shoot .

The three pairs of eyes were sharp, like predators. Even as Izayoi’s eyes flitted away from her for a split second, she still felt like they could see all the way through to her soul.

“It doesn’t matter! For the last time, I’m not eating— oomph! ”

Something small barrelled onto her back and hung there, like a koala. She caught a strand of blondish, brownish hair swaying in her peripheral.

“Lily?” She wheezed as the Kitsune tried her best attempt at a judo-hold-slash-hug. She propped herself up on her elbows to try and get some air, but the blonde capitalized on the space and found more room to wrap herself around Kuro-Usagi.

“Kuro-Usagi! I’m so glad you finally found some time to relax,” she felt her eyes bulge as the hug tightened.

“How did you weave those reed baskets last time? Can you come show me?” Lily questioned from her backpack position. At least the fox-girl saved her from the increasingly likely outcome of her being coerced into eating grass.

Bless these kids. She heaved a sigh of relief, unsuccessfully, due to her limited air reserves.

“Damn,” Izayoi cursed, “saved by the bell,” his purple eyes met hers, but the bags hanging under them turned his burning glower down to a low simmer. 

“This isn’t over,” he said. She was sure that any other day she’d be daunted, but it was hard to be intimidated by someone who looked like they flop over and fall asleep any second.

Asuka felt the need to interrupt, “Lily, that’s a good hold but if you really want to do some damage you need to position your elbow closer to the nearest carotid.”

The child let go of her, “that was a hug, Miss Asuka?” her tone went up near the end, sounding unsure.

The noirette shrugged, “nonetheless. Here, watch me.”

Before Kuro-Usagi could process it, another arm wrapped around her neck, yanking her backwards.

“Like this, see?” A pair of legs wrapped around Kuro-Usagi’s torso, immobilizing her. Her ears were pressed into Asuka’s shoulders and her back was arched in a way that made kicking difficult.

“You want to get your body weight working against the neck,” Asuka’s voice was muffled, “see how I’m using both her body weight and mine to get more force behind my arms?”

Kuro-Usagi wondered if her face was as pink as her hair yet. She started frantically whacking Asuka’s arm as she realized that no, she couldn’t breathe, and wow, it had been a while since she had. The arm loosened slightly, and she gasped. Despite all that, she was still in the hold.

“Also,” Yō added, “see what Asuka’s doing with Kuro-Usagi’s back?” She felt Asuka move her leg to exaggerate the hold.

“She’s making sure that Kuro-Usagi won’t break the hold by forcing her into a naturally weaker position. Always remember, it’s hard for humans to move from a hyper flexed position where the muscles are already strained.”

Lily stuttered, “Guys, I- I just wanted-”

“It’s cool, I get it. It’s overwhelming to hear all of that,” Izayoi chipped in. Lily started to smile, looking relieved as he continued on, “It’s much easier in practice.”

Her smile fell.

“Wait, no, don’t worry about it-” she stammered. Kuro-Usagi felt for her.

“Good point, Izayoi,” said Yō, “Lily, try putting him in a hold.”

“What?!” Lily exclaimed, “No, I couldn’t! I don’t even know what a hold is, and even if I did it’s still too soon, what if Izayoi is still-” She cut herself off, looking frazzled. She didn’t need to continue, made the right decision in not doing so, actually, but it was already too late. Hard to ignore the verbal misstep when there was still a gruesome scar peeking out of Izayoi’s shirt, on his trapezius and much too close to the arteries in his neck. Kuro-Usagi knew that one could trace that scar all the way down to his back to his hip, finding more to match all-the-while. Kuro-Usagi also knew that Lily had been the one to patch it up, while it was still bleeding out despite not even being his most severe wound.

The silence felt like it lasted for an eternity, even though it was probably just a blip in the flow of conversation.

Izayoi grinned at Lily in that indecipherable way of his. Kuro-Usagi couldn’t tell if he was trying to pretend that her comment went over his head or if he was trying to tell her that he knew exactly what she was going to say and didn’t mind. Either way, it eased the tension.

“It’s cool, you’ve got such tiny cigarette arms I doubt you could do much anyways,” he said, “just copy Asuka and see if you can do any damage.”

Never let it be said that Lily didn’t have a temper. She was a smart girl and had to give off the level-headed, well-adjusted vibes to keep the younger children in line, but as soon as she got the chance to shrug that facade she took it. Pair this information with the fact that adrenaline was probably still pumping through her veins from her verbal blunder and you’ve got yourself a killer.

She bared her teeth and pounced. Not expecting such vigour, Izayoi’s eyes widened slightly right before he was whacked with ninety-pounds of angry Kitsune.

As soon as the girl landed on his back she wrapped a leg around his torso. Moving with the speed of a true Kitsune, she wrangled an arm around his neck and tugged . As any good shadow opponent would, Izayoi let himself fall backwards with her pull, placing himself in a near-perfect chokehold.

“ Damn Lily,” Asuka snorted from somewhere next to Kuro-Usagi’s ear (who, to her dismay, was still in a chokehold ), “got some anger you need to sort out?”

Lily gave a breathless chuckle in response, exertion evident in her voice.

“The kids have been whining about the hot weather all day,” she explained.

Izayoi shook from where he was smothered. Kuro-Usagi couldn’t really be sure but it was probably a laugh.

Yō leaned over and inspected the hold. She tapped her finger against her chin, the bird who’d been resting there quickly fluttered up to her hair instead.

“Hm, it’s pretty good considering you’re working with a larger opponent than yourself,” she poked Lily’s upper arm, “make sure you’re not using just your arm for the choke though. Most of the power needs to come from your back and the leverage you have against the ground and your opponent.”

Izayoi made an uncomfortable sound as Lily put the advice into practice.

Yō walked around the hold for a while longer, commenting on the mistakes. Every once in a while Asuka would chime in from where she was still holding Kuro-Usagi, showing Lily what she needed to do instead of telling her. The little girl seemed exhilarated to be getting this much attention.

After some time Yō stepped back and nodded approvingly.

“There we go. That’s the kind of hold that can kill a man.”

Lily beamed.

Izayoi slapped her arm twice and she loosened her grip slightly.

“Good job,” he wheezed, “but before you even start the hold there are some things you need to consider, especially in Little Garden.” Lily tilted her head in confusion, right before Izayoi sprung up with a kick, landing in a crouched position, Lily still slung over his shoulder. The poor girl squeaked and tried to re-adjust the hold, hanging off his neck in a way that would’ve been painful for anyone other than Izayoi, all to no avail.

The blonde, with Lily hoisted over him like a sack of potatoes, started walking down the hill, towards the pond. Asuka’s grin widened as she realized where this was going. Yō held her bird up so it could get a better look. The mass of children who’d been playing at the pond parted and formed a mob, cheering on either side of Izayoi as their leader was paraded closer.

“Holds like that are designed so that even a weaker opponent can pin someone stronger, but in Little Garden,” he plucked her off his shoulder and held her by her out in front, like a lion cub, “that all counts for nothing if you come across someone with the wrong gift.”

Lily was scrambling at air, frantically checking her shoulder to look at the water, “wait, you said it was fine, I promise I wouldn’t have tried it on you if you didn’t say it was ok, please—”

Izayoi laughed, “It was totally fine, but every lesson is a valuable one, even this one,” Lily was starting to pale, “so take it to heart, hm?”

“Throw her!” one of the kids from the mob shouted. 

Lily gasped, “who said that? Billy, was it you? This is treason!”

Asuka cackled from behind Kuro-Usagi, finally deciding to loosen her hold and let her go.

“I’m going to get closer,” she said. She pushed herself off the grass and walked to join the mob. Raising her voice in pitch, she shouted, “Off with her head!”

Yō silently made to stand next to her. She raised an angry fist into the air.

“Look,” Lily started, “You can’t throw me. I’m delicate . My hair is thick! It’ll take forever to dry and then I won’t be able to make dinner on time!” She glared at the shouting mob, Asuka and Yō especially, “Plus, the water’s cold ! I’ll get sick!”

She was hanging over the water’s edge now, legs dangling save for the few kicks she swung.

Izayoi wasn’t having it.

“Don’t worry, you’ll be fine. Afterall,” he grinned, “the kids have been whining about the hot weather all day,” and proceeded to chuck her into the water.

The mob erupted. 

“The tyrant has been felled,” they shouted, “It’s everyone for themselves now! Anarchy!” The mob turned on itself. It truly was everyone for themselves, as friends turned to foe and pushed each other into the depths of the pond.

“Fight!” Lily screeched from where she re-emerged, “it’s what you little gremlins will always fall to! Mindless violence!”

The problem children were grinning amongst the battlefield, like beacons of doom, waiting to harness the souls of the lost. Asuka—who had a particularly cunning look on her face—raised her hands.

“Dear friends of the No-Name community,” she started, “what nonsense is this?” Asuka wasn’t using her gift, but she demanded attention nonetheless. The kids froze. Billy, one of the instigators, dropped the Elf he’d been holding over the water with a splash that resounded in the silent air.

“No, this simply will not do.” She started pacing in front of the mob, “Here at No-Name we fight with honour! As a united front! Those are our community’s beliefs!” She looked at the children, eyes flaring.

“Are you a united front?” She was met with silence. Her walk took her closer to the other two problem children.

She waited, only to receive no answer.

“I want to hear you all say ‘yes ma’am’! Now, are you a united front?”

“Yes ma’am!” a chorus met her.

“Are you proud to be a No-Name?”

“Yes ma’am!”

“Will you, with diligence and honour, eradicate any enemy of the No-Names?”

“Yes ma’am!”

Asuka grinned and pointed at Yō and Izayoi. Kuro-Usagi felt a similar grin part her face.

“There. Those are our enemies. Eradicate them.”

“Yes ma’am!” The running mob shouted, swarming the two children. Kuro-Usagi was already on the move, having predicted the order.

Izayoi and Yō watched the army approaching. The blonde turned to face the grinning Asuka, “motherfu—” Yō whacked him, “—fudger.”

“Yes! Yes!” Lily screeched, as kids were thrown left right and center. 

“Anarchy!”

---------------

“What I don’t understand,” Izayoi said, floating on his back in the water, arm slung over his eyes, “is why we even bother participating in gift games when clearly these little shits can take out anyone we set them on.”

A grey-haired Kitsune splashed at him playfully. Izayoi flicked his finger and sent a wave back. The grey head was submerged for a good five seconds.

“What I don’t understand is how they could turn on their leader!” Asuka exclaimed, “and stop swearing in front of the kids,” she added.

Yō nodded in agreement.

The three problem children floated in the water, defeated. It was one thing to fight an enemy but it was another thing entirely to fight an enemy that you weren’t supposed to hurt and—who despite this fact—had a tendency to lie down on their feet like the tripping hazard that they were. After a well-fought battle, the three of them all ended up stumbling unceremoniously into the water.

Kuro-Usagi, on the other hand, sat contentedly on the shoreline with a semi-dry Lily, weaving reed baskets. She waved at them. Izayoi made to return the gesture, save a few fingers, but Yō held his hand down.

“You guys look tired,” Kuro-Usagi taunted, “don’t tell me our youngest community members are too much for you?”

She was only partly joking, believe it or not. The three children did look tired. Uncomfortably so. Deep bags were carved into their under eyes. She was pretty sure Yō only slept when she used a bear’s power to hibernate. Asuka only slept when Amalthea or one of the other children was next to her. She didn’t even know when Izayoi slept.

Something uncomfortable settled in her chest.

“Why don’t you guys come back to shore? Take a nap,” she tried to hold on to her mocking tone but it softened by the end, giving way to her concern.

The problem children must’ve caught on to it or at least must’ve been too tired to argue. They chatted amongst themselves for a second and before paddling to shore.

Lily stood up as they approached and riffled through her picnic basket, pulling a large cloth out from the main compartment. She threw it in the general direction of the three, who were at the moment trying to wring out their dripping clothes.

“It’s not a towel but it should work as something to lie on while you guys drip dry,” she explained.

Yō caught it out of the air and spread it out on the grass next to the pond. Kuro-Usagi didn’t see the point, the grass this time of year was as soft as any blanket could hope to be, but the problem children didn’t protest. All they did was finish wringing out their various outfits before slumping over onto the red and white surface, promptly closing their eyes.

If it weren’t for the varying difference in hair colour and build, the three of them could be siblings. What, with the way they sprawled out next to each other without a care or distrust in mind. She thought back to the triad of children she had seen just about a year ago, with shoulders pulled up to their ears and hands by their sides, ready for a fight or betrayal at any time. Looking at them now—Asuka readjusting Izayoi’s arm into a better position for her head and Yō sprawling a leg over Asuka’s, just to maintain the steadying comfort of contact—Kuro-Usagi realized that she hadn’t seen any raised shoulders or fisted hands since before their last gift game. In all honesty, despite being a damaged and orphaned bunch of children that gave off strong ‘do not touch’ vibes, the whole community had become more touchy since their last gift game.

Many things had changed since their last gift game.

Kuro-Usagi shook her head and gave her attention back to the reed in her hands and Lily at her side. She leaned over the smaller girl, checking her basket for mistakes.

“You need to go under instead of over right here,” she pointed at an innocuous-looking part of the weave, “see how you’ve got three overs in a row?”

Lily flipped her basket so she could see where Kuro-Usagi was pointing.

“Shoot,” she exclaimed, “I see it. Darn!”

Profanities had yet to litter Lily’s speech, but the rate of words that conveyed displeasure was slowly increasing and she was sure that before long Lily would be swearing like a sailor. It was undoubtedly Izayoi’s influence. She wasn’t sure how she felt about that. 

Kuro-Usagi laughed despite herself and ruffled the hair of a still pseudo-swearing Lily. 

“I'm going to go sunbathe with those three beauty gurus over there. Do you want to come weave next to me?”

Lily looked at where the sun was in the sky and sighed. Golden light had yet to filter through the atmosphere and the sky was still a cheery blue. It was mid-afternoonish if Kuro-Usagi had to hazard a guess.

“No, I should probably get inside and start getting the others ready for snack-time. I can finish this later,” she stood up, a half-finished basket by her side.

A lump formed in her throat. Lily’s face was youthful—she was still only ten—but her voice carried responsibility. Her eyes held a maturity that Kuro-Usagi had hoped she would never have to see on another kid's face ever again. But there it resided, mocking her. She wondered if Lily ever woke up in a sweat, trying to wipe blood off of clean hands like Kuro-Usagi had once done many centuries ago—had started doing again only recently. She wondered if she could’ve done something to prevent the bags on that youthful face. If Izayoi would’ve survived if she had.

“Come here, Lily,” she gestured for the little girl to come closer.

Lily approached her, one small step at a time, crossing the waters-edge alcove of trampled reeds they’d created.

When the girl was close enough Kuro-Usagi gathered her into her arms. Lily’s head slotted perfectly into the crook of a crouching Kuro-Usagi’s neck. Her arms returned the embrace. She’s so small. She could feel every bone in the girl’s body, could feel her breaths filter in and out of her lungs from where calloused hands rested on her back.

“You’re so strong,” she whispered into blonde hair, “and every day that passes, you grow stronger.”

She squeezed slightly. Uneven breathing tickled her shoulder as Lily started to hiccup. Lily dug her nose further into Kuro-Usagi’s neck.

“I’m not, Kuro-Usagi,” Lily shook, “I’m not like you, or Onee-samas, or—” she trailed off. Distantly, Kuro-Usagi knew that Lily blamed herself for Izayoi’s injuries, and if not injuries then at least the scars who remained to litter his skin—however illogically.

“I know you and I know that you trust me, so when I tell you that you’re strong, that you’ve been through things other children couldn’t imagine and come out on the other side, I need you to believe me.” Lily shook her head.

“I was so scared. I am scared. I’m so, so scared all the time,” her voice wavered. She readjusted her head so she could look at Kuro-Usagi. Her eyes were wide and wet, cerulean irises too wild and experienced for such a small face.

“Please tell me it goes away. Are we ever gonna be safe again?” she clenched at Kuro-Usagi’s front, “I just want us to be safe.”

Lily… Kuro-Usagi’s chest burned and the bridge of her nose started to sting even as she pulled the Kitsune closer. She’d always hated the three-headed personification of evil, but as she held Lily’s trembling body in her arms a fresh wave of liquid fire washed through her.

“You’re safe. We’re all safe,” she breathed, “We made it,” she cradled the blonde head, “we all made it.”

Jack's face flashed through her mind. Liar .

Like a dam breaking, Lily started sobbing. It was loud and ugly, but from where the two of them were crouched in their sheltered grove of crushed reeds, it felt like the universe turned a blind eye. Let them cry in peace.

Kuro-Usagi, for a split second, felt robes brush her back. The smell of autumn and burning wax filled her mind. She thought that just maybe, maybe , she heard a faint voice.

It’s OK, it said, deep laughter echoing in her ears, just once, this lie is OK.

The wind crept by her face, and as soon as the voice had come, it was gone. Tears fell down her cheeks and she whimpered in an unsuccessful attempt to smother a sob.

“Thank you,” she murmured.

“Hmm?” Lily looked up, tears mirroring her own. Kuro-Usagi brushed them away with her thumb.

“Nothing, it’s just—” she sighed through her nose and smiled, “I’m so proud of you, Lily. So proud.”

Lily didn’t respond, just burrowed back into Kuro-Usagi’s arms, shaking.

Thank you.

Chapter Text

Idly, she wondered if the problem children were aware of the breakdown that occurred not even ten metres from themselves or if they remained blissfully ignorant. It didn’t matter much anymore, Lily left a few minutes earlier. After an indeterminable amount of time, the girl had pulled away, wiped her tears, and hastily excused herself. Now, Kuro-Usagi crouched alone in the reeds, trying to rub the flushed red and puffy eyes away from her face before she joined the problem children’s impromptu sleep-fest. Impromptu cry-fest and impromptu sleep-fest. We’re a mess, aren’t we? She thought to herself.

She disguised her rubbing by splashing her face with pond water. Hopefully, the cold liquid would chase away any blood lingering near the surface of her skin that was determined to blush her cheeks and eyes.

Standing up, she realized that Lily left her half-woven basket behind. The girl had probably forgotten all about it in her sheepish post-cry haze. Kuro-Usagi wasn’t surprised, Lily rushed off with a speed that could rival Amalthea. Nonetheless, she was glad that the girl still felt young enough to hug her older friend and cry into her shoulder as she used to when she was still just a kit.

Kuro-Usagi cleared her throat, picked up the basket, and trudged over to the three sleeping bodies.

“Are any of you guys still awake?” she whispered so softly that it was but a breath.

“Hm,” Yō nodded, eyes closed, and patted the ground next to her.

“The other two are really out of it, huh?” Yō dipped her chin in acknowledgement.

Asuka was dead to the world. Her mouth was parted, sucking in small bouts of air that when exhaled fluttered the hair hanging by her face. She was curled around Izayoi’s arm with her hands resting in the space between his body and hers. She literally sleeps like a baby, Kuro-Usagi noted.

Izayoi was in a similar state. He was unable to curl up like Asuka due to his arm being held hostage, but he gave it his best try. With a start, Kuro-Usagi realized that Izayoi was the only problem child who she’d never seen asleep before. Perhaps that was a creepy thing to say, but when you’ve lived with others as long as they had you can be sure to always find a sleeping body somewhere. Aside from the occasional twitch of his face, Izayoi slept like a log.

“Kuro-Usagi should come rest as well,” Yō said.

“Yes, I think so too,” she laughed as she sat in the spot created next to Yō.

She lay back on the blanket, arms behind her head, and closed her eyes. She let the sounds of chirping birds and running water wash over her. Just a few months ago, she never thought she’d hear such sounds in the dilapidated grounds of the No-Name community again, but yet here they were. Three miracles worked their way into her life and brought about a beautiful change before she could even ask them for it.

“Is Lily okay?” Yō disrupted her thoughts and really, by now Kuro-Usagi should’ve known that such an event would never be missed by Yō’s bat-like hearing.

“She’s doing better now,” Kuro-Usagi sighed, “what happened back in Kouen… that would mess anyone up. I screwed up by letting Lily be there. She’s so young, she shouldn’t have seen any of that.”

She shook her head before she could spiral. Yō watched her carefully, seeing through her completely.

“Anyways,” she continued, “of course there’s some fallout to it. She’s strong though, and now she knows that she can talk to any of us about it. She’ll be ok,” Kuro-Usagi was unsure if that was the truth or a prayer.

She was struck again by the unfairness of it all. She wasn’t innocent, she knew that evil stained every corner of this world, but it still hurt that her kids—ten, nine, eight-year-olds and younger yet—had to be touched by it. Too many times she’d seen the haunted eyes of emaciated, bloody, or broken children, be it in the alleyways behind that one shady store in town, or in the mirrors lining the no-names halls. Yet, this time she thought she was stronger. She thought if she kept them close she could protect them but… Then she froze, she lost her divinity, and she ran . She left yet another child to stay behind and fight her battles for her. She, she—

Yō grabbed her hand, gently, as though she would break at a touch too harsh, “it’s not your fault, Kuro-Usagi.”

Brown eyes met red. Brown, like the earth that steadies her. Brown, like the logs that fuel the hearth. Brown, like the trees littering the community. Like the trees of the Moon Rabbit Tribe— burning, she's running through them but they’re burning and she’s running, running, running—

“Hey,” something squeezed her hand, “it’s not your fault.”

Kuro-Usagi breathed, a wobbly gasp emitting from her throat. She rubbed a hand on her face to try and get some sensation back into the skin.

“How are you so okay?” she laughed, breathlessly. Yō looked away to the reeds that swayed in the wind like a comb running through hair. What was so important that made Yō inspect them so closely, Kuro-Usagi couldn’t say.

“I’m not,” the other girl admitted. A nearby family of field mice seemed to sense her distress and scuttled closer to poke and prod at her hand. Yō picked the closest one up and let it start chewing on her sleeves as she pet it.

Kuro-Usagi felt like she needed to say something, but she’d no clue what.

“ But you seem so…” Kuro-Usagi gestured at where she sat, calmly playing with the mice on her lap and hand.

Yō nodded idly, “that’s because I’m not trying to hide it,” her gaze returned to wander Kuro-Usagi’s face and with her free hand, she poked at the spot in between the Moon Rabbits eyebrows.

“You’re always trying to hide how messed up you are ‘cause you think it’s going to help the pack,” Yō carried on, ignorant to Kuro-Usagi’s disguised attempts to move her finger, “these two do it as well,” she nodded her head at the other two, “like dogs. I’m not sure but I think it’s ‘cause they were raised that way. They’re stubborn so that probably won’t change anytime soon,” she looked wistful, “but you change all the time Kuro-Usagi. You’re like a chameleon I once met in the New-New-Amazon back in my world.”

Yō smiled at her, “and that’s pretty awesome. So when I tell you that it’s ok to show all of us that you’re hurting, I expect you to do it. If not for yourself, do it for these two,” she finally moved her finger to gesture at the sleeping bodies, “they don’t show it either but they’re pretty messed up too. Stop putting up facades and just go back to being you, even if that You is traumatized as hell.”

With that, Yō returned to playing with her mice, ignorant to Kuro-Usagi’s shocked silence.

“How was that Gerrald? Did it make any sense,” Yō whispered to her mouse, softly poking the rodent’s nose. It squeaked. “Thanks, I thought so too.”

Kuro-Usagi, meanwhile, was millions of miles away. If you’re denying it to others then you’re denying it to yourself, and that’s not going to get you anywhere now is it? Blonde hair, emerald eyes, a larger than life figure who knew just the right softness of which to stroke Kuro-Usagi’s head. 

I’ve had this conversation before, she realized. How embarrassing, to be two-hundred years old and still stumble over the same mistakes. How embarrassing, to have a fourteen-year-old and a field mouse correct you.

Kuro-Usagi let herself relax. No point in ruminating, just fix it.

She turned to her friend, “Yō, I think that’s the most I’ve heard you speak in a month.”

The girl shrugged, “I had something important to say. Mouse?” she raised her open palm, offering a therapy mouse to her.

She thought about it and conceded to her friend’s mysterious ways. 

“Yes please.” 

Yō looked delighted as she placed the grey ball in her awaiting hand. Kuro-Usagi stroked at the spot between its ears.

“Thank you,” Kuro-Usagi said, hoping that her tone could convey what she meant—the bottomless depths of her gratitude that extended past a simple conversation and a field mouse.

“No problem,” Yō said. Her eyes were softened around the edges, nothing shuttered her expression and Kuro-Usagi could only hope that meant something got through.

The other girl frowned as if realizing something unpleasant, “thank Gerrald too. He knows what he’s talking about,” the brunette gestured at the mouse.

“I, um… really?” Kuro-Usagi wasn’t sure she was ready to owe her eternal gratitude to a field mouse. Nonetheless, Yō nodded eagerly.

Ok then .

Kuro-Usagi sucked it up and smiled at the rodent, “Thanks Gerrald,” she paused, screw it , and went all the way, “I really owe you one.”

Yō was positively beaming . The mice on her lap were chattering happily, hissing and running up and down her legs. Gerrald squeaked.

“He says you can make it up to him right now by scratching a little over to the left,” Yō translated, her grin nearly splitting her face. Kuro-Usagi could only guess at how it felt to be able to share something as amazing as talking to animals with someone else, and, on the other end of the spectrum, how lonely it must’ve been for only her to possess that power. Kuro-Usagi supposed that if she could grant her friend such happiness by just saying thank you to a mouse then she would say thanks to every single mouse she’d see for the rest of her life.

She must’ve paused for too long because Gerrald squeaked again.

“Yeah, I know,” she said, finger edging closer to his left ear, “I just got a little distracted,” Gerrald chattered as she started scratching.

Yō was still beaming as she conveyed the message, “he wants you to know that this is one of the best head scratches he’s gotten in years.”

Kuro-Usagi laughed loudly, “I’m glad,” she exclaimed.

“Mnngh,” Asuka groaned from next to Yō.

“Sorry! Sorry,” she whispered, still chuckling, “Kuro-Usagi will be quiet from here on out.”

“Gnn,” Asuka said, and promptly fell back to sleep.

And so, Kuro-Usagi sat there, contentedly petting a newly discovered therapy mouse and his family.

She’d no clue when, but somewhere along the way the fourteen-year-old sitting next to her had grown a tremendous amount. So much so that sometimes when she looked at the problem child it was hard to remember that she was just that, a child. Even then, it was twice as bad with the other two who were older. Sometimes, though she’d never admit it, she’d look at Izayoi, his golden hair and his wild, sharp eyes that begged for a challenge, freedom, more, and instead of seeing a boy of seventeen she’d find instead a woman spun of gold and power staring back at her. It’s okay, little-Usagi, have I ever broken a promise? The woman was strong, and smarter than anyone she’d met—up until just about last year—and she never backed down. Everytime she looked at Izayoi and instead saw her long lost community member because they were simply too similar to bear, it tore at that empty spot in her heart just a little more.

Something nipped at her fingernail. Suppressing a yelp, she glared down at Gerrald who, with equal amounts of exasperation, glared right back up at her. Damn rodent , she thought, hoping Gerrald could somehow decipher her projected message. A few beats of silence passed until the mouse, with its unyielding black eyes and soulless expresion, won the stare-down. Kuro-Usagi reluctantly returned to scratching his ear.

Time passed quickly after that. Kuro-Usagi could not say where her mind went but it was somewhere empty and free of the chains of thought, reminiscent of the meditation she partook in just over a century ago, save for the strange addition of a rodent. She didn’t even notice the bright, azure sky fade to a soft pink as the sun began to set and dinner-time approached. The problem children—including Yō who fell into the warm embrace of sleep a rough thirty minutes after Kuro-Usagi’s arrival—did not stir once.

That is, until Yō blearily raised herself on her elbows and, in a motion almost too quick for the eyes to see, twisted her body so that she was draped over Asuka. With her forearm pressing uncomfortably against the other girl's abdomen, she stretched her other arm out and started harshly poking Izayoi in the ribs. Izayoi startled awake a split second after Asuka kicked Yō in alarm.

“What?” the normally austere girl exclaimed, trying and failing to spring to her feet due to the added weight on her torso. This left her sprawled on the picnic blanket, long legs tangled in its furrows with arms trying to support both her and Yō.

“What the hell Yō,” her hand hovered over Yō’s back, tone as unsure as her body language concerning whether comfort or anger was more apt for such a situation.

“What are you doing?” Kuro-Usagi questioned, still shaky from the sudden scare.

Yō didn’t seem to notice, or if she did, her aloof nature failed to show it.

“His heart rate was too high,” she said, the finger of which she used to prod her friend now clenched into a fist where she supported herself on the blanket.

“His heart rate? What are you...” Asuka questioned, her mind still clouded with sleep. She trailed off as she turned her attention to Izayoi, Kuro-Usagi’s eyes following in tandem.

After being rudely prodded awake, it appeared as though Izayoi had scrambled backwards until he was a rough foot away from the assault. Now, he was clumsily trying to get a leg under himself so he could crouch instead of remain in the vulnerable, splayed out position he crawled back in. His fists were clenching and unclenching, seemingly caught in the indecisive loop of fight or flight. Kuro-Usagi involuntarily thought back to a time where the old community, at Koumei’s insisting request, dismantled an animal trafficking ring. The tense shoulders and frantic, searching eyes she saw back then were not too unlike the wary figure poised in front of her here, a century later. 

“It’s okay. I’m fine, it- don’t worry—” Izayoi tried to speak but his breaths were coming in little puffs instead of the smooth, rhythmic cycles they were supposed to be, making his attempts at reassurances less than. 

Kuro-Usagi wasn’t sure what she was seeing. He looked like a ghost and, even if it was almost invisible to the naked eye, his hands were trembling.

“Ok, I believe you,” she said, “either way, I just need you to breathe, okay? Breathe with me,” she started to inhale, counting 1,2,3,4 until she was cut off by the flapping of Izayoi’s hand.

“It’s seriously okay,” he breathed deeper, of his own volition, and Kuro-Usagi could see the shutters start to close as he systematically smoothed over the harsh, panicked lines of his figure. Izayoi readjusted his position so that he was sitting cross-legged on the blanket instead of crouching awkwardly. She could see the conscious effort of him relaxing his shoulders and unfurrowing the muscles in his face. 

He shook his hands out, “Yō just startled me.”

Unbelievable, she thought, Yō was right, he’s like a dog.

Kuro-Usagi met his still frantic eyes with a leveled stare. Gerrald was going berserk in her palm.

“Your heart is still beating too fast,” Yō muttered, “and Gerrald says you’re scaring the den with your smell.”

“Who the hell is Gerrald?”

“Mine and Kuro-Usagi’s friend.”

Izayoi raised an eyebrow, his motions were smooth and controlled, too unlike the casual grace and power he normally exuded in his every action. She felt the need to call the conversation back, to stop the spiral of her friend’s strange behaviour before it could slip away never to be addressed again.

“What is he? A bird? No, that wouldn’t make sense… Maybe a—”

“Stop that,” Asuka interrupted, voice devoid of any power aside from a distressed lilt, “you never run away. Stop it.”

Asuka was right. The person in front of her was too out of character. From his calm pretense to the dull, detached glaze over his normally diamond sharp gaze. This person was not Izayoi but instead something that could be likened to an autopilot, taking over while the main driver was millions of miles away, seeing different people, doing different things, fighting a different battle.

Izayoi sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

“I’m serious. Stop it right now or I’m getting Amalthea to come over here and… and… do something! I don't know yet, just-” Asuka stuttered away. Looking at the girl—properly, not just glancing—Kuro-Usagi could see how out of her depth she was. She, however ironic, was at a loss for words, seeing their strongest community member flinch away from a simple finger left her in an unknown territory.

“I know,” Izayoi swallowed something down, “ok, just give me a second, to…” he breathed out. He leaned over his crossed legs and out his head in his hands, elbows resting on his knees. Aside from the shaky breathing, he was completely still. Kuro-Usagi was at a loss. Distantly she could register Gerrald chattering in her hand. She turned to Yō and Asuka who were similarly frozen despite their awkward position, both turned to look back at her like she would somehow know what to do. 

Yō told her to stop pretending so she met their expectant gazes with a shrug. 

Ow! She thought, barely catching herself from exclaiming out loud and once again startling their blonde friend. 

She looked down to where the pain emanated from and saw the damned therapy rat with its teeth embedded two-centimeters in her thumb.

What? She gestured at him angrily with her free hand. He squeaked again, this time at Yō.

Yō listened attentively and nodded.

“He says we should just let Izayoi be for now, until he’s ready to talk,” she whisper translated.

Asuka and Kuro-Usagi nodded, conceding in a lack of better alternatives.

She turned her attention back to Izayoi, who had moved one hand from his face to grasp at the grass under him. His hold on the green blades cycled between a white-knuckled clench to a soft caress that mapped out it’s anatomy, from the bumpy nodes to the inflorescence. Kuro-Usagi could see him mouthing the landmarks of the strand at the same time his finger ran over them. Node, Internode, Collar-Region, Blade, Node, Internode… he mouthed.

The strange ritual he performed repeated from grass, to flower, to weed, and back to grass as he grabbed at whatever was closest to him. Kuro-Usagi couldn’t help but recall the game Canaria had once played with her after a particularly bad night.

“Poor Little-Usagi” the woman said as she clutched the young girl tight to her chest.

“Here, I have an idea! Lets play a game!” she propositioned. Kuro-Usagi did nought but whimper in response.

“It’s ok, it's very easy. I’m going to point at something in this room and you, my little player, are going to tell me what it looks like, what it feels like, what it smells like, and what it tastes like. Alright?”

Kuro-Usagi looked confused, “how will I know what it tastes like?”

The woman smiled, “just give it your best guess. Are you ready to play?”

Kuro-Usagi nodded.

“Great! Let’s start with… hm… how about,” her eyes lit up as she looked at the carpet beneath them, “the carpet! Now, take your time, what does it look like?”

Kuro-Usagi did her best, remembering to catch her breath, which was slowly starting to deregulate again, “um, it's pretty?” Canaria nodded, “and… it's got a bunch of yellow flowers?”

“Great job. What does it feel like?”

Kuro-Usagi wiggled her toes, “it's rough, but not hard. It feels… Like a carpet.”

Canaria laughed and the air swirled as though strumming the chords of the universe, “you know what? Close enough. I’ll take it. What does it smell like?”

Kuro-Usagi leaned over slightly so that her nose was closer to the carpet.

“Umm,” she sniffed, “musty. Like dust and…” sniffed again, “feet.”

“Silly-Usagi. Ok, last one, what does it taste like? Now, you don’t actually have to—” but before she could finish, Kuro-Usagi, in her slightly dazed state thanks to the horrible night she’d just had, decided to drop her hands to her knees and take a swipe at the carpet with a singular finger. She was a smart girl, but it was late and she was still frazzled, so if her mentor/savior/friend told her that this game would help then she was going to commit.

Before she could be stopped, she stuck her tongue out and brushed it against the index used to swipe the carpet. Bleh, she thought, wrinkling her nose. Canaria was trying her utmost not to laugh too loudly, instead making stifled chirping noises.

“How,” her voice wavered, “how does it taste, Little-Usagi?”

Kuro-Usagi nodded resolutely before looking Canaria in the eyes, most remnants of her panic faded into the night.

“Bad.”

Thus, Kuro-Usagi was left idly wondering if Izayoi was about to eat grass. It was ill-suited to the situation but, similar to a rabbit, her attention could not stay in one place too long, particularly when in duress. 

From next to her, Yō, who’d finally removed herself from Asuka’s lap, stilled the other girl’s tapping finger and started listening attentively. After ten seconds of quiet, Yō nodded at them, in a manner that was embarrassingly comforting to be coming from the youngest one there. Gerrald had also stilled slightly since his outburst. Kuro-Usagi could only assume that meant Izayoi had calmed down enough to stop freaking all the mice out.

Kuro-Usagi waited for Yō to say something, but the other girl was looking right back at her in the same manner. Asuka was resolutely looking anywhere but at them.

Alright then.

“Izayoi..?” she started, “how are you doing?”

The boy sighed and, after a slight pause, lifted his head from his hand, other hand still clenched around a daffodil.

He took his time looking for the right words, expression tired but no longer as fearful as when he woke up, or as horrifically blank as afterwards. When he looked at her his eyes were still distant, but at least it wasn’t that stranger’s vacant gaze.

“I’m…” he breathed, “better now.”

Kuro-Usagi nodded. She tried to think back on that night many centuries ago, to comforting hands and an even softer voice that always knew exactly what to do. She didn’t know how to project that to someone who was already so much like the woman in her memories.

“That's good. Do you… want to talk about it?” She hoped she sounded comfortable in this position.

Izayoi chuckled mirthlessly, “not especially.”

But, of course, that was to be expected. Kuro-Usagi remembers waking up from visions of her village, her friends, and her family burning and the absolute abhorrence towards talking about it in her waking hours. How reluctantly she would explain what happened because how dare it haunt her even in her waking hours, like some parasite that clung to her back, crawled under her skin like a second layer of filth and feasted on her livelihood. How dare it.

“Ok, that’s fine,” Izayoi’s eyes narrowed, as though that was not the answer expected. It probably wasn’t, which made this next part all the more painful.

“Thats fine, but I… Can you tell me if this has happened before?”

He wilted, but as Asuka said, he didn’t run away and he was nothing if not honest (to his friends at least, not that he’d ever admit that).

“It has.”

This was the hard part.

“Is this why you haven’t been sleeping lately?”

Izayoi didn’t flinch, but he might as well have. His eyes hardened to their amethyst namesake and Kuro-Usagi could practically feel a wave of cold travel from his epicentre outwards. Nonetheless, with incredible self-control, Izayoi took a deep breath and on the exhale, he deflated. He brought his hand up to rub at his face tiredly, in some disguised, deep-rooted need to never be seen like this. He was so far out of his comfort zone, but he was the strongest person she knew so it was to little surprise that he sucked it up and lay himself bare in front of them. 

“Probably, yeah,” he shook his hands out yet again, as though he could simply work the trembling out of his fingers.

Ok, Kuro-Usagi could work with this.

“Thanks…” she trailed off as she tried to think of what to say next. Izayoi wasn’t trying to hide how carefully he was watching her every move, weighing the slump of her shoulders and measuring the crinkle between her brows, trying to anticipate her next course of action. If you’ve got any ideas, shoot, she thought.

“Um… sorry, yeah,” gods why was this so much easier with Lily?

“You know that you can always talk about it, right?” Izayoi’s expression didn’t change, but Asuka shifted on the blanket.

“I mean, it doesn’t have to be with me! Of course. Everyone in this community will listen. Um, Leticia! She’s a surprisingly maternal figure, and… Gry? Gry likes you a lot, he’d listen,” why wasn’t anyone saying anything? “But, of course, I don’t know all that much about Shirayuki but maybe—”

“Thanks, Silly-Usagi,” he said. And there was that name again. Why, why did he look so much like her? 

“But like, do you understand? Because I know I’m talking a lot and that probably doesn’t help but I really do mean it. I want you to talk about it,” she was definitely pushing too far now.

“I know. Thanks,” but he always found a way to surprise her.

He cleared his throat, like he was going to continue. And then, because Izayoi is smart, more self-aware then he gets credit for and always several steps ahead, he takes a deep breath and makes a promise.

“I will tell you,” at Kuro-Usagi’s poorly disguised shock he continues, “not now, of course. But I know what you’re trying to say, however inarticulate, and, well…” he paused, “I’ll tell you everything, when I’m ready. I promise.”

Izayoi is smart . He knows where he stands in the community, in this strange friendship of four, and recognizes when he needs to set an example. Kuro-Usagi was worried that this was out of character for him but only now does she realize how apt it is. How he’ll never run, never lie, and always tread first into the unknown, blazing a trail for those he holds dear, sacrificing mind, body, and soul to help his friends. She tried not to tear up as she realizes how grateful she is to have these three, magnificent people in her life.

“Thanks,” she managed to choke out. She’d been saying thanks a lot today, she noticed.

He simply nodded back at her. The air heavy with the lingering weight of the conversation they’d had. Yō, damn her, was petting three rodents of varying species on her lap, much to Gerralds jealous dismay. Asuka stared thoughtfully into the grass, worlds away. 

Seconds ticked by, silence growing heavier and bolder yet as it lay undisrupted. Kuro-Usagi felt like ants were crawling under her skin. She awkwardly turned back to poking and prodding at Gerrald, praying for his wisdom once again.

Izayoi, perhaps ignorant to the laden atmosphere, perhaps too tired to care, leaned back on his hands and watched the sunset. She could feel sweat starting to build on her forehead as her mouth, ironically, started to dry up like chalk.

Indra, someone please say something. She was starting to contemplate actually praying.

“Well,” Izayoi started loudly, making her flinch and nearly drop Gerrald, “that was humiliating. Anyone else want to say something?”

Bless him, for once, for seeing straight through her.

Just as she was starting to worry that they’d enter another bout of silence, Asuka sighed loudly.

She closed her burning blue eyes, bracing for whatever was to come next.

“I get them too.”

She blurted it out, like she was afraid she would be unable to in just a few seconds more. Perhaps that was the case.

She opened her eyes to stare defiantly at the sky. Kuro-Usagi imagined they were originally meant to be on the receiving end of that glare, probably to dare them into laughing at her, dismissing her, perhaps even demeaning her. Alas, she could not choose one of them to direct it at, or maybe didn’t want to, so she stared at the sky until one could fool themselves into believing that the sunset was instead an inferno by her hand. Kuro-Usagi thinks she understands now, what Yō was saying about these two and their vulnerability.

“I get them, sometimes every night for a week. And it makes it hard to sleep. So there,” she spoke like every word was getting carved out of her with a spoon, but at least she was speaking.

Izayoi nodded and Yō, well, didn’t do much but she was more present than usual.

“About him, right? Or at least, that game?” 

Asuka flinched, but nodded nonetheless.

“You too?” she said it to Izayoi but she glanced at Yō and Kuro-Usagi as well.

Before she could stop herself she started nodding. Next to her, Yō stopped petting her friends and dipped her chin.

“Among some other things, yeah,” Izayoi admitted.

Asuka was pulling relentlessly at a loose thread on her dress.

“Sometimes…” she trailed off, “ugh, damn it. Whatever,” she blazed on, figuring, well, I’ve already started, “sometimes he’s just there, rising from the volcano again, but sometimes he’s… well, he’s killing you guys and my sister and… shit, Jack. And I can’t stop it. Shit,” she closed her eyes and roughly ran a hand through her hair, shaking all but gently at the mass of strands.

Yō must’ve been uncomfortable with how stressed her friend was because she, in a mimicry of earlier, held yet another mouse out.

“Mouse?” she uttered the magic word.

Asuka looked baffled but nodded and accepted the rodent.

If they were to continue the obscure, therapeutic back and forth, Izayoi should have been next to talk, but he was still. He made no moves to speak. 

Yō, in Izayoi’s stead, started, “I know, too. Every few nights I’ll dream that I’m back there, or maybe I’ll smell something that brings me back, and all of a sudden my legs are useless. And I have to watch you all die,” her breath rattled, “but, then I’ll wake up and see you guys, and it’ll be ok. Plus, I can talk to animals like Gerrald here who’re certified in their dens. It helps.”

Gerrald chattered and the mice still playing in Yō’s clothes rustled about. She smiled, hazel eyes soft, much too sad, but soft. It should say something that the youngest one here was the most emotionally adjusted. Kuro-Usagi placed a hand on her friend's shoulder.

Izayoi scratched at the bridge of his nose and sighed, “ah shit, I guess it’s my turn?”

He left his hand to linger there. Touching his face was a disturbingly obvious tell but Kuro-Usagi has never seen it arise before, even while they played a gift game where the premise was bluffing, so she assumed it was reserved for situations like these.

“When I was up there with him, on the volcano, he said a lot of things. But, among them… shit. He— fuck, ” she saw his face cycle through what actions he could take next. She watched as he tried to figure out if he should laugh this one off, shut-down, or stick it out. She watched as he decided to remain in this place, and Kuro-Usagi didn’t know what exactly that said about their relationship but she was pretty sure it made her chest glow.

“Ok. When I was up there he made his clones. He knew that I was stalling, figured it out as soon as you guys left, but he wanted to force me into trying to kill him,” he carried on with fake composure, “so he made his clones and sent them to kill you. And I couldn’t stop them, I was too weak. I watched them go and the only way to stop them was to kill him, and he knew that, but there was no way I could beat him so I just had to let them go and do all those horrible things to you guys and—,” he leaned back, “it sucked. I hate this, by the way. So much. You guys know what I’m trying to say.”

And Kuro-Usagi did. She could only reminisce to a time where rage, humiliation, and fear as sharp as a dagger didn’t run through her when she couldn’t protect her friends, knowing from experience the consequences of her failures.. She felt it now, looking at the three faces of these children . She knew Izayoi was on that volcano with Azi Dahaka far longer than anyone expected him to be, and that was horrific in its own plight, but to hear of the mind games the villain played with her friend who was woven from the most powerful threads of the earth, it made her burn . And to think that such games haunted her friends at night, she felt like she was a child again, running through a burning forest with so much fear, but also anger, with no outlet and not enough power yet to explode. 

I’m going to kill it. I’ll summon it again and then I’ll kill it a hundred times over, till the word pain means nothing to it.

“How are you doing, Kuro-Usagi?” Izayoi disrupted her thoughts, voice barely making it through the blurred haze of rage that filled her mind. 

She distantly registered that she was shaking. Her hair flushed pink in her peripheral.

“That monster. Has taken. So. Much,” she started carefully, teeth grinding at every opportunity, “my home. My family. My childhood. And now, he dares to hurt you guys too? I’m going to kill him. I’m going to split him into a million pieces and feed him to the Ερινύες. How dare he haunt you too.”

She didn’t think it was possible for her fingers to be simultaneously thrumming and numb at the same time, but here she was. Forcing sound out around the shard in her throat was a painful effort but she felt like words could come spilling out of her for hours and still it would not be enough to express all the pain that demon had inflicted. 

She hardly registered Gerrald hopping out of her palm to hide in the folds of Yō’s dress.

“How dare he.”

Her voice wavered, and maybe there were warm streaks falling down her face and off her chin and so what she’d already cried so much this day because what the hell else was she supposed to do when the monster was already gone and all she was ever left with was this pain and no where to put it. Maybe her fingers were thrumming because this was finally it, the moment it all spilled out of her. Like a star finally burning out after two-centuries of smothering its own fire. A supernova.

And, fittingly, she collapsed in on herself.

“How could he? How could anyone ever hurt that many? I can’t keep doing this,” she sobbed, nearly unintelligible.

“How could he do that?”

Silence.

Sometimes the cruelty in life could never be answered for. Sometimes it was so deranged that there was no logical reasoning behind it—not enough for it to be justifiably spoken.

She wasn’t sure, but Asuka’s hand quickly darted to her eyes to wipe something away and Yō was shaking next to her. Izayoi sat still, looking at the ground with his hands clenched tightly together.

Maybe, the reason her anger burned so bright for so long was because she didn’t know the reasoning behind his actions. Everything she knew as a child was reduced to ash and for the life of her she couldn’t understand why. Now, as she sat here centuries later and wailed, collapsed in on herself, she realized that she’d finally cracked because there was no reason . The monster got the easy way out and she was left here. Two-centuries of wondering and hating and fearing and longing , all for this anticlimactic end of nothingness and death.

So, realization upon her, she sat there with her friends and wailed.

---------

After an incomprehensible amount of time, Izayoi spoke.

“When all these things come to a close, with the bad guy all beaten down, none of that shit ends. There are always people left over, hidden out of sight. Sometimes, we’re still fighting a war years after it's been won, still trying to reason our way out of the situation or understand our enemy, and that's what people always forget. Fear, anger, apathy, that’s a survivor's burden. Even after everything we’ve done, we’re still cursed to carry all that weight and keep it tucked away for years.”

He was braiding three strands of grass together, his voice feather light but his tone deep enough to leave grooves in the earth like water running through stone.

“But, all this anger and fear we feel are unsustainable emotions. We’ll all burn out eventually, and the actual hard part is realizing that it's ok. Looking back and thinking, it’s been long enough. The final realization that we’re safe, after all this time, it hits like a brick. And, figuring it out, that it’s time to let go, that’s the hard part.”

Kuro-Usagi was so tired but what Izayoi was saying resonated deep within her bones.

“So, survivor to survivor,” he met her eyes, “I’m telling you that you’re going to be ok.”

He glanced at all of them, scars rippling with the movement of his neck, “we’re all going to be ok.”

Kuro-Usagi sobbed, tears long gone, having run out some time ago, and nodded.

She was safe. 

Asuka laughed and wiped her face, “we’re such a mess, aren’t we?”

They laughed, the heavy atmosphere broken as soon as it was acknowledged. They wiped their faces and straightened their posture as though a weight was lifted.

“We really are,” Izayoi chuckled. Yō nodded and Gerrald peeked his head out to squeak something.

“Gerrald agrees,” she said and Izayoi cracked up .

“Who the hell is Gerrald? Seriously, I still don’t know! Who is he?”

Kuro-Usagi sniffled and started heartily laughing. It probably looked and sounded like sobs but she was lighter, happier. Asuka joined in, followed shortly by a quiet Yō.

The brunette held Gerrald out to Izayoi,

“Mouse?”

He flung his hands out in a sort of what gesture, “I don't understand. What are you trying to tell me? Yō, I don’t understand .”

Their laughter echoed across the community grounds, travelling across the clear pond and flowing through the freshly grown trees that surrounded them.

She’s safe. She’s finally safe.

Claws raked across her heart as she thought about her parents. She was safe and they still weren’t here. But… Yō was warm next to her and Asuka was laughing and Izayoi was there , and they were all alive. So, she finally let herself breathe. Warm smiles, fire, screams, the bitter taste of grass, and the twinkling of her parent’s laughter; she let it go. She would never forget, wouldn’t dare, but as the anger and fear and numbness leaked out of her, she felt no shame. She’s safe. She’s finally safe.

She can let go.

So no, she’s not ok. But here, in this place, surrounded by these people, she knew that she would be. One day.