and they carried on like long division

[imatreenow]

Who: Silver and Mithos and maybe probably joined by Sayo at some point
What: ...who knows, honestly. Something akin to "bonding" except it's kind of awkward and one-sided-ly hostile.
When: August 14th-20th
Where: Building 2, room 1; the garden outside House 11
Summary: Frey takes a week off to cope with Kaori's departure and Silver steps in to assume his responsibilities of keeping an eye on Mithos. Things happen.
Rating: PG

Comments

[imatreenow]

I used to believe that...but there are some things that nobody can change, no matter what.

[He breaks off from Silver to slowly walk around the perimeter of the garden to the other side, with the solemn manner of a worshiper entering a church. His eyes roam the rows of plants, desperate for something, but he doesn't know what.]

[tsuntrader]

[Wrong. But he doesn't comment this time, instead giving Mithos the space to look through the garden that he can appreciate far, far more than Silver ever could.]

[imatreenow]

[In the silence, Silver melts away. By the time he reaches the other side of the garden, he realizes: being here without her, it is not the same place. The spaces her body once filled with tender work now only hold ghosts of memories. It feels empty despite being so overwhelmingly full. It's just a garden, a patch of dirt hosting plants, yet it can never be just that.

He sinks to his knees beside a rock just outside the garden's border, at the spot where he'd given Kaori her birthday gift. He sets his bag on the ground next to him, eyes never leaving the flowers as he just breathes.]

[tsuntrader]

[...Great. Silver quietly moves to the other side of the garden. He touches a couple of the flowers along the way; he can't quite recall the names of them, but he knows them well from Kaori, from Shiemi... From seeing the garden every day as he heads out, early in the morning.

-Right, focus. ...Or at least focus a little.] Don't just stare at them. It's rude.

[imatreenow]

[He tenses as Silver comes closer. An intruder, unwanted. His voice comes out softer than he intends, blunted by the loss that permeates his bones.] ...Shut up.

[He reaches into his bag, eyes drifting from trowel to gloves to watering can, all so insignificant, so meaningless, pausing on the panpipes he'd tucked away. His fingers brush against them, hesitant.]

[tsuntrader]

[The softness of that statement catches Silver off guard. He debates speaking anyway... But he'll give Mithos a moment.]

[imatreenow]

[Slowly, he extracts the pipes. Raw memories wash ashore, breaking on the inside of his eyes - the way Kaori had smiled when he played for her and it was how it's supposed to be. His heart rattles, seeds in a parched husk. His eyes ache.

He stares down at the pipes in his hands. He wants to be alone. He wishes he could be small and hidden and safe to shatter at the softest touch of the past. Martel's music, something he hates to share with just anyone... But he needs this right now.]

[tsuntrader]

[What... What in the world are those? He tilts his head a little as Mithos pulls out the pipes. He's too musically inept to begin to recognize that it's for music, let alone know what it is.]

[imatreenow]

[Head bowed as if in prayer, he closes his eyes to try to erase Silver from beside him. It isn't hard, with memories fogging the air and lonely-lost emptiness suffocating him, all demanding to be inhaled. He lifts the pipes to his mouth, takes a breath, and exhales the first note.

It's the song he had been playing the first time he met her. It was an accident that she heard him, and he remembers wondering if it was a mistake to bare himself, and now he knows it was anything but. The melody is slow, peaceful - but beneath the serene surface churns a yearning for something that can't be reached. He tries to wrap himself in the music. It's a security blanket that can't be pulled around him tightly enough.]

[tsuntrader]

[Silver quietly listens to him. On one hand, he doesn't understand music. It's hard for him to properly appreciate it.

On the other hand, it's strange to hear someone so sad, so angry, so unstable play something so soft and soothing. Mithos...]

[imatreenow]

[Don't think about anything. Don't think about how much it hurts don't think about all the missing pieces don't think about it don't think. Just wedge yourself into the spaces between the notes, curl up, and be. He can never reach the point where it all vanishes, but with the well-worn tune of days long gone he can at least come a few steps closer to it.

He doesn't want to stop. Instinctively he knows nothing will be different when he re-opens his eyes; he'll just remember again. He plays as he always does when he's alone, repeating entire sections to draw the song out longer and let himself hide a little more. He does nothing about the unannounced tears that slip down his face; his hair gives an adequate veil.

It has to end eventually, though. The final note dies. He lowers the pipes and his eyes open reluctantly. With the back of his hand, he wipes quietly at his face. He doesn't lift his head. Nothing to acknowledge that Silver is there, even as his existence presses into the back of Mithos's neck.]