GRAVESKIES

Chapter 13

Hazy and sickened, Ryujin awoke in the blind softness of a foreign bed. Light trickled through dirty, cracked windows. A warm body she could barely remember laid next to her. There was no feeling in her chest about him, about any of this. Ryu didn't want to think yet of the mess she'd have to face once she stepped out.

As she stretched her hands, Ryu's fingers grazed over something. She fumbled though the sheets and lifted a sharp, wiry ribbon— a fallen feather. One of the many that were scattered over the sheets. Her stomach twisted in disgust. The asshole must've plucked them off of her wings as she slept, deriving some sick pleasure from it.

What a fucking loser. Ryujin would never be flightless.

She wished she had more time to welcome violence inside and pretend it brought her pleasure, not vengeance upon herself. Nevertheless, it was time to leave. Cleaned up and smoothed out, Ryujin got dressed and wordlessly climbed out the window.

"I got lost!" she laughed at her superiors' questions of why she hadn't finished her Walk of Glory. They scowled deeply; Ryujin painted herself to be inhebriated with euphoria.

"How did it go? What did you ask for?"

"It's bad luck to tell." Ryu winked. "Nyrin said so himself."

Only several hours later, the winged soldier returned to the Rakian frontline.

From there on it was pretend. Pretend. Smile, shake hands, joke, waver only quietly, hesitate only when you're alone. Pretend, pretend. Easy, like it's a game, she found it easier to be happy when she was faking it. The tragedy of forging her own feelings brought a distressing amount of comfort.

Sawyer and Willow hesitated at first, unsure of whether Ryujin had somehow changed, but she was quick to prove herself true. They were ecstatic for her, of course, and Ryu wished she'd feel guilty for lying. But she only felt a fierce protectiveness over her pride. She'd smile for that. She'd laugh for that like she was free. She'd emulate everything like she had done throughout all those nights in her childhood, prowling for an inch of joy, finding it in the act of pretending to live in her handcrafted ideal future.

The man who'd touched her was doomed to remain her secret. Instead, Ryujin told her friends: "I thought about you guys every day. But don't tell anyone."

"No way, you've become a softie," Sawyer gasped.

Ryu couldn't quite mask her smile with a death glare. "How dare you? Lemme fix you up real quick." She threw a playful punch at him; he blocked and tackled her, and shit, finally someone whose intentions were clear.

"After Nyrin, the next milestone is retirement, remember?" Willow tried to make a joke, but it really, really didn't feel that way.

The average retirement age in the Akan military was thirty-seven. Ryujin refused to think about it.

After the three of them caught up, Willow took her aside.

"Anything wrong?" Ryu quirked a brow.

"No, not at all, actually." Willow shoved her hands in her pockets, drumming her fingers against the sides of her waterproof sport pants. "It's nice to know that you're... The same, I guess. Like, you met Nyrin, but you're the same person, you haven't changed one bit." She smiled meekly. "It's stupid, I know, but I was insecure that once you'd come back, I wouldn't fit with you anymore. I wouldn't be good enough to understand you. I'd get left behind."

It wasn't stupid, it was the closest Willow had ever gotten to understanding how Ryu felt, to imitating the weakness and poison that taunted her. It made Ryujin absolutely mad; it was success, but also what right did Willow have to feel insecure? It was meaningless, because Ryu had been lying to her. This wasn't progress.