school: otome

[shaft]

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[shaft]

[ He seems to be taking a moment to absorb that information, given that Otome is barely an adult herself. Given that she's already shown a tendency to take on more than she should. ]

Is she... all right?

[momming]

... Ideally. [ She's not deceased, that's the first thing she wants to clarify. ]

A lot happened, but simply phrased, I'm the only one who remembers ever being her mother.

[shaft]

[ Well, that's better than her passing.

But not great. ]

What happened?

[momming]

... Are you sure you want that secret of mine?

[shaft]

I won't ask you to share anything you're not comfortable with.

[momming]

[ she's quiet for a minute. ]

Would you believe me if I said I've li-- experienced two different resets of my world?

[shaft]

[ ... ]

You mean... had time rewound?

[momming]

Yes, on a global scale.

[shaft]

... Yeah. I would believe you.

[momming]

Originally, my aunt and uncle died about a year ago and I took in my three-year-old cousin, Koharu.

When things were reset, they were alive again, so the event where I adopted her never actually happened. She's with her real parents now.

[shaft]

[ ...

That's... technically a happier ending. Though still lonely, still a little painful for Otome, and his heart goes out to her. ]

I see.

Do you miss her?

[momming]

I can still see her, so it's not so terrible. But if you mean do I miss coming home to someone instead of burying myself in my work...

[ She sighs, softly. ]

Yes. Every day.

[shaft]

[ He settles a hand on her shoulder, squeezing it gently. ]

I'm sorry. Even if you can still be with her... it's a terrible loss.

[ He manages to say that, speak before another memory slips forward.

You wake up, and it's to a hand around your neck and the ominous glint of a blade in the moonlight.

It's the first time you've woken up like this. You're maybe five, or six years old, and you're filled with fear first, and panic second.

But you still know better than to scream.

You slap the arm that's keeping you pinned to your bed, and it doesn't do much, except wherever that knife misses wherever it was meant to cut, slashing deep and bloody over your chest instead, pain slicing through your veins as your legs kick out, earning a grunt of pain when they connect with—something soft and human.

The situation starts to take shape in your head, and something else seeps in around the fear: fury. Indignation. Rage that anyone would do this to you- you're a prince.

You kick again before your attacker manages to shield himself, into that same spot, another more pronounced cry of pain. But the reason your shadow stuck close was because this time, he lodges his blade into your shoulder, and it burns so much that you lose track of everything else. How hard your fists are beating into the arm around your neck. How furiously your legs are kicking at the shape above you until eventually it staggers back.

And against all odds, you get up too. The knife wasn't driven deep enough to stay in place when you move, and suddenly it's very accessible.

Suddenly the knife is in your hand and you're screaming, launching forward and you know that you hurt him, some where, some amount of times because there's blood spraying over your floors different from the droplets dripping from your own clothes. But you're only a child, and when the fog clears from your head you realize that the would-be assassin is gone.

It's just you, covered in blood and left without a scratch.

Claude startles as it fades, stepping back so that he doesn't accidentally tighten his grip, his other hand going up to his chest. ]

[momming]

[ He's not the only one who flinches back to attention as the memory fades. It's one that sits heavily, makes her feel a little sick as she works to separate her thoughts and feelings from a much younger Claude's. One hand mirrors his, pressed against her chest.

That's not... what a child should be going through. That's-- ]

Claude...

[ It's vaguely questioning, but she isn't asking for an explanation. She isn't asking for reassurance. Otome just gazes at him, and the prevalent emotion is concern. ]

[shaft]

[ He sighs in response, rubbing a hand over his face to ease out some of the tension that had gathered. ]

That was unpleasant, wasn't it? But don't worry, it's been many years.

[momming]

... More often than not, things that happened a long time ago can still sit heavily on your shoulders.

[ She reaches for his hand, then hesitates, eyes flicking up to his face for permission. That probably did him no favors in the trusting department. ]

[shaft]

I suppose you're right.

[ He gives her a thin smile before shaking his head. ]

I have no intention of denying that it was awful, but that's just how the pieces fall sometimes.

[momming]

[ CAN SHE HOLD YOUR HAND OR NOT, ASSHOLE. ]

Did you come to expect this...?

[shaft]

[ SHE CAN, he takes it... ]

I'd say so. It happened more times than I could count.

[momming]

[ This could be cute, except Otome is more concerned about the tension she sees in his everything so instead of like lacing their fingers together or something, she's just firmly but gently pressing and massaging at each individual finger to see if that helps. ]

... Because of your status?

[shaft]

[ It would be simple enough to say yes—it's not uncommon for royalty to be the targets of assassination prompts.

But he doesn't feel like lying. ]

Not quite. My mother hailed from another country, and people didn't like a prince of mixed heritage.

[momming]

Discrimination and prejudice...

[ wow, she actually sounds quietly angry. ]

That's terrible.

[shaft]

Isn't it?

[ He smiles wryly, but he doesn't appear particularly haunted or hurt by remembering. Just dismayed. ]

I think things could've changed though, with the right push.

[momming]

If that's what you think, then I'll do you one better-- I think things can change.

Though I'm fairly sure you already know it won't be easy.

[shaft]

You're right. I do. But it'll have to be another person with vision, my time's already passed.