[He can't help but smile in response to hers, though it fades to surprise as soon as she reaches out to touch him - and as soon as she does, a memory comes through. I hate that we decided on max pain because Anya doesn't deserve this!!
If the contents weren’t frightening on their own, the primary feeling carried with this memory is— well. There’s a good deal of fear and concern for all the other people in this room, but as the water continues to rise and and you begin to seriously believe this could be the end, what you feel more than anything else about what’s going to happen to you, specifically, is much more neutral. You aren’t that scared, that angry, that... anything.]
[no, i think she deserves this - but the memory that flows through to hunter is nearly the opposite
It's an average school day and Papa drives you to the campus, and there is already a guilty feeling in your heart. You know that he's been doing this because you've been getting quieter, and quieter. His words from the night before ring in your head, "Where's my shining Anya?" And you smiled for him - but you couldn't tell him that you didn't know where she was, or if there was anything of her left.
The car stops in front of the campus and his hand comes to your head, warm and kind, and he says, "Have a good day, Anya" in perfect Russian. You respond to him in kind, easily and immediate, "Have a good day, Papa!" You know this will be the last good part of your day, with someone who loves you.
When you walk into the school, the air is different. No one talks to you - they only talk about you. They look in your direction and whisper, but you can't understand everything the say. It is too soft, too fast, too much for your ears to know when you are still learning. But you hear the pieces that they mean for you to hear: That girl. Cold. Don't. Speak. Weird.
You sit at your desk and no one comes up to you. You bring out your notebook that maps the stars, but something catches your attention that someone says - Meteor shower. - and you turn, you want to speak, you want to share something that you love with anyone, anyone at all.
But even as you open your mouth, the other students see they've caught your attention, and you remember the past. When you tried to speak, and either no one understood or worse, when they made mocked what you had to say in the way that you said it.
So you turn back in your seat, mouth clamped shut, and you hear them murmur: She. Talk. To us? How creepy.
And something in your chest aches, but it doesn't show on your face - you can't let it show on your face, or the words they'll have for you will only be worse. So you hold both the loneliness and the ache in your chest, every feeling you want to express trapped in your heart when no one wants to listen, and you don't have the words to connect.
but when she snaps out of it, she pulls her hand back, breathless like she's trying to catch what she was missing in that room that was nearly covered in water - and she looks up at him, surprised now that her feelings are back to being her own]
[As the memory ends - the pain, the scale of that loneliness brings one of his hands to his chest, frowning as he does. There’s outright concern in his expression as he does, both because of what he saw, and - what she had to see.]
Anya, that was... [Well, before anything else:] Are you okay?
[she blinks when he asks her - and you'll have to excuse her if she doesn't answer right away. it doesn't really seem to occur to her that the touch was what spurred the last memory
because she's already just going to rush to give him a hug, tight and - a little scared, based on how she seems to be trembling just a bit]
[she repeats the word, even as she presses her face into his shoulder, muffled. and then when she raises her head to look up at him again, she seems somewhere between desperate and stubborn - ]
Promise? You are okay? You will not go anywhere? You will -
Эластичные? You will be here? You will fight to stay - alive?
[He hesitates for a short moment before he seems to realize that might be the worst thing to do in this situation, and forces the words out.]
I mean, I just - this place is dangerous. You know that. I can't promise that nothing's going to happen. But it's not like I... I mean, of course I don't want anything to happen to me.
[ - yeah, the hesitation manages to just get her to hold onto him all the more tightly, as if that'll keep him from disappearing right in front of her eyes.]
But if in dangerous place - you will not accept.
If in water, you will try. If in fire, you will try.
[she sounds almost like she's ordering, if not for the way that she looks scared in her eyes, turning to almost a whisper]
Did it stop once you did? I mean, the... not talking. The whole being scared thing. [All the same—] By the way, you can stop me if it's something you don't want to talk about.
[to which she offers a soft smile - almost sheepish]
... I did silly things. Like at first um... autograph sign, tried to ask Producer to let me speak only in Russian, because I did not want... Неуклюжий. I did not want cool idol to sound... [she hesitates around the word, 'stupid' rests on the tip of her tongue - ] Not good.
That's not silly. I mean, not to say you should still think that, but... I get why. It must have been tough for you.
[He might not understand how the language barrier can factor into it, but - that feeling of self consciousness, of embarrassment, is something he can sympathize with. A little bit softer:]
But, hey. I can promise you, you always sound cool.
I wonder if there are books for that in the library. I mean, if you ever wanted any pointers, I could totally help you out. Not that I'm, like, a teacher or anything, but - well, you get it.
cw suicide attempt
If the contents weren’t frightening on their own, the primary feeling carried with this memory is— well. There’s a good deal of fear and concern for all the other people in this room, but as the water continues to rise and and you begin to seriously believe this could be the end, what you feel more than anything else about what’s going to happen to you, specifically, is much more neutral. You aren’t that scared, that angry, that... anything.]
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It's an average school day and Papa drives you to the campus, and there is already a guilty feeling in your heart. You know that he's been doing this because you've been getting quieter, and quieter. His words from the night before ring in your head, "Where's my shining Anya?" And you smiled for him - but you couldn't tell him that you didn't know where she was, or if there was anything of her left.
The car stops in front of the campus and his hand comes to your head, warm and kind, and he says, "Have a good day, Anya" in perfect Russian. You respond to him in kind, easily and immediate, "Have a good day, Papa!" You know this will be the last good part of your day, with someone who loves you.
When you walk into the school, the air is different. No one talks to you - they only talk about you. They look in your direction and whisper, but you can't understand everything the say. It is too soft, too fast, too much for your ears to know when you are still learning. But you hear the pieces that they mean for you to hear: That girl. Cold. Don't. Speak. Weird.
You sit at your desk and no one comes up to you. You bring out your notebook that maps the stars, but something catches your attention that someone says - Meteor shower. - and you turn, you want to speak, you want to share something that you love with anyone, anyone at all.
But even as you open your mouth, the other students see they've caught your attention, and you remember the past. When you tried to speak, and either no one understood or worse, when they made mocked what you had to say in the way that you said it.
So you turn back in your seat, mouth clamped shut, and you hear them murmur: She. Talk. To us? How creepy.
And something in your chest aches, but it doesn't show on your face - you can't let it show on your face, or the words they'll have for you will only be worse. So you hold both the loneliness and the ache in your chest, every feeling you want to express trapped in your heart when no one wants to listen, and you don't have the words to connect.
but when she snaps out of it, she pulls her hand back, breathless like she's trying to catch what she was missing in that room that was nearly covered in water - and she looks up at him, surprised now that her feelings are back to being her own]
... Hunter?
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Anya, that was... [Well, before anything else:] Are you okay?
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because she's already just going to rush to give him a hug, tight and - a little scared, based on how she seems to be trembling just a bit]
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Sorry. I'm sorry, you weren't supposed to...
[See that. Feel that. He still wants to ask about what he saw in turn, but - it feels more important to stop that trembling first.]
It's okay. I promise.
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Promise?
[she repeats the word, even as she presses her face into his shoulder, muffled. and then when she raises her head to look up at him again, she seems somewhere between desperate and stubborn - ]
Promise? You are okay? You will not go anywhere? You will -
Эластичные? You will be here? You will fight to stay - alive?
[you won't go without a fight?]
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[He hesitates for a short moment before he seems to realize that might be the worst thing to do in this situation, and forces the words out.]
I mean, I just - this place is dangerous. You know that. I can't promise that nothing's going to happen. But it's not like I... I mean, of course I don't want anything to happen to me.
no subject
But if in dangerous place - you will not accept.
If in water, you will try. If in fire, you will try.
[she sounds almost like she's ordering, if not for the way that she looks scared in her eyes, turning to almost a whisper]
... Пожалуйста. Please try.
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[It's soft, almost as if he's thinking of something else - but he comes back to himself after a moment, blinking down at her.]
More importantly, Anya - what I saw... You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to, but - I'm sorry you had to go through that.
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but when he brings up her own memory - she falters]
.... Old memory. [is it - it had to be a year or two ago at most] ... Умеренная. Not that bad.
[though her second statement is softer, like she's still trying to keep people from worrying about her]
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[...]
Did they stop treating you like that?
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I did not talk... for long time. Because... напугана. Scared.
But if I did not talk... no one would come to me either.
[ . . . ]
Anya moved to Tokyo - later. Since someone said... I should be idol.
[and maybe she wanted to be someone worth something]
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Did it stop once you did? I mean, the... not talking. The whole being scared thing. [All the same—] By the way, you can stop me if it's something you don't want to talk about.
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... I can talk now.
[to which she offers a soft smile - almost sheepish]
... I did silly things. Like at first um... autograph sign, tried to ask Producer to let me speak only in Russian, because I did not want... Неуклюжий. I did not want cool idol to sound... [she hesitates around the word, 'stupid' rests on the tip of her tongue - ] Not good.
But... is better now.
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[He might not understand how the language barrier can factor into it, but - that feeling of self consciousness, of embarrassment, is something he can sympathize with. A little bit softer:]
But, hey. I can promise you, you always sound cool.
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Do not think so, but thank you.
[the words at least get her to smile] Непосредственный. I like... to have words to express my heart to people. Not through translator, just... me.
[so she looks a little embarrassed but - ]
Will learn more, so I can tell what I want to feel to people I want to hear it.
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I wonder if there are books for that in the library. I mean, if you ever wanted any pointers, I could totally help you out. Not that I'm, like, a teacher or anything, but - well, you get it.
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[she offers a soft little smile]
Заинтересованы? Could teach Russian or Japanese too - if you want to learn.
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Yeah, that sounds great! I mean, if you don't mind that I'm not really the best student.
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Hunter is very smart. I believe that.
Учитель. I will be happy to teach no matter what.
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Cool! How's tomorrow? Or later on in the week?
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Mm... later? I will make notes to be easy to follow!
Отвлечение. If we are thinking of others things, we will not worry about Friday.
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[she says, with confidence, because what could happen between now and thursday]
We will have a study party - like nothing is different.