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It is the distance that makes the heart grow fonder, but also that which makes grief more consuming. And after the day she failed her provisional exam despite being the most promising young hero, it was obvious Aia Uwabami had encountered the feeling.
The press was as aware as anyone of the fact. Tabloids upon tabloids had run in just a month about the mysterious circumstances behind every hero adoring teen's favorite socialite. Some were even bright enough to speculate a break-up, luckily the leash Uwabami held on her daughter's career led them to think Shiji was the culprit of heartbreak.
They'd even confronted him on his best friend's disappearance. For once he found himself lucky to have Camie who gladly ran circles through the conversation to talk about herself so he could sneak away and try to find out for himself what happened.
But, just like everyone else in those three weeks- the girl's phone went straight to voicemail. Needless to say, every Medusa fan was just as clueless to the truth as the people closest to her.
Only herself and Himiko know what happened between them. Just like the blond planned along with the rest of her schemes.
At the very least, the guilty motherly pleading that accompanied every meal delivery to her daughter's room had brought upon several promises of freedom for whenever Aia makes her comeback into the real world.
The girl had been convincing herself for days that the emergence would be soon. She still had things to do, she couldn't sulk any longer like some loser only going out for silent revisional classes. She has friends to get back to, a world to change and a work-study to start.
All by herself, something that never bothered her and now leaves a lingering sting.
"Aia, baby, I'm not going to make you go back to work but Hawks has been trying to get a hold of you for days now. You never ignore him, come on, just pick up and call him birdbrain or something to feel better?"
Slit eyes look away from the roof to the door separating her from the pitiful voice. She's never heard her mother, or anyone for that matter, talk to her so delicately. It would normally repulse her to have anyone treat her like glass. Yet, here she was, a shard on the cold floor waiting to get swept away.
She was fragile and cared too much, that much was now too obvious to deny it like she always has.
A sigh sounds from outside her shelter; the disappointed sound wasn't a novelty in the house but had recently grown more tired than ever before.
The teen seems to become more aware of her surroundings, the gold sheen of countless decorations seeming to taunt her. Gold like the most entrancing eyes she's ever seen.
But, the disheveled girl in its reflection is unrecognizable as she who swam in honey iris through a mask of love.
It was alarming, how much sorrow she was visually in because of someone who not long ago snuck her way into every thought. She was still angry at being lied to, but now she mostly wished to again enjoy losing herself in meaningless words if it meant they came from her sweet voice.
