⏳ Goddess of Victory: Nikke x Reader

[Marciana] Clandestine Lament 📝

What are you talking about?
I wasn't crying.
I was just...

...

Your next trip to the school had been ruined.

Not only did you find it strange that the halls of the building were empty — clearly no one told you today was a day off for the students and a good number of faculty — but upon finding Marciana's classroom, your heart ached.

You found the woman leaning over her desk, sheet of paper in her clenched hand, tears streaming down her face. She was alone, wallowing in a sadness you had yet to discover until then. And you stood there at the classroom door, peeking in through the small pane of glass that gave you ample space to witness her meltdown.

Through the walls you could even hear the faintest of her whines and sobs. You had to steel yourself against this sight before turning that knob and stepping inside, though you easily managed to keep a straight face devoid of any obvious concern. As soon as you stepped into the room and Marciana heard the click of the door, she frantically wiped her tears and tucked the sheet of paper away into her desk.

After that, silence. Her expression was hardened ever so slightly like she'd been expecting this sudden visitor to be one of her students, those of whom she could not risk showing her tears to, but to her gratitude and relief, it was you.

"Marciana," you said calmly.

The Nikke drew her eyes away from you for a moment, thinking that if she were to show vulnerability to you, that just wouldn't leave a good impression. She had to play off her emotions at any cost. So she turned again to you, cleared her throat, and sat up straight, showing you false sternness.

"Commander, you really should learn to knock," she said. It was obvious she was doing her best to maintain this cool, collected charade despite her already being up against the odds. Little did she know, you had seen her tears.

"You were crying," you spoke in such a soft voice that even Marciana herself couldn't help but loosen her expression. That firm stare turned soft, laced with hesitance.

"I don't know what you're talking about," she said. "I was only grading the students' scores. Nothing more." You watched her stand and start tidying up her desk. Although it was already well organized, she proceeded to fix the most minute of things. Right away you could tell, she's just nervous. She was even avoiding any trace of eye contact.

"I have more grading to do."

"Come with me," you said without hesitation. Marciana's eyes flicked up toward you. She gazed curiously from your face to your uniform and back down at the collections of pen and paper placed meticulously across her desk.

"Why?" Marciana's voice shook.

"You need a break. It's your day off, isn't it?" Hearing your question, Marciana froze. "You chose to stay here all alone and keep working," you added, "and for what? To torture yourself?"

Marciana still could not meet your eyes. She set her hands on her desk and leaned forward, head down, her long brown locks of hair shielding the sight of her face like an elegant curtain of silk.

"I have... I have more work to do," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I have more work to do. I can't... I..."

You stepped forward, proceeding further into the classroom. Standing now by the front of her desk, you stopped and held out your hand.

"Come with me," you told her once more.

This time, Marciana lifted her head to look into your eyes. Because it was you, she could make eye contact. Because it was you, she could open up and show you the tears running down her cheeks.

Because it was you, she let you take her hand and pull her away from that tortuous cycle she had to endure as a teacher here. Even if only for a day, she let you clear her mind of the stress and the agony, because it was you.

You took her first to go shopping. You yourself bought a few new white shirts to go with your uniform. Marciana had picked out a girly pink handbag, something you just wouldn't expect a woman like her to be interested in. It didn't matter though. She was starting to smile.

You took her next to the café, where she indulged in tasty pastries and a frothy drink. As you sat across from her sipping from your own cup, you looked over to find a milk mustache had left its print above her lip. You pointed it out and the two of you shared a sweet laugh. Her smile was growing.

You were going to take her to the amusement park last, but she made it abundantly clear that she had other plans.

As night fell over the Ark, she took you to the flower park where she sat down beside you on a lonely bench, settled down in her seat, and shyly moved closer.

"Thank you for everything, Commander," she said sweetly. "You know, you're like a saint."

You cracked a smile. "Only to people who deserve it."

Marciana let out a little giggle, pressing her body closer to your side. A moment of silence was all that briefly connected the two of you before the Nikke laid her head delicately on your shoulder.

"I want to be with you more, Commander. Promise me you'll visit me every time I get a day off."

It seemed that she had forgotten all about the struggles of work and grading her students, if that was even the word for it. All you had done for her was successfully burying those depressing thoughts in her head. Soon, she would return to that job and painstakingly tend to her duties as the teacher bearing the most unimaginable pain.

But that was for later.

For now, she was simply delighted to be in your comforting presence. Most importantly of all, she was beaming.