Calamity

A R C III. | S C E N E V.

Scene V: Lucid Awakenings

ONE MIGHT THINK TABBIT’S waves of dark curls suited her much more than being a Crimson Crane. Looking at her slightly muscular but petite form, one could easily label her as a freelance painter or musician or dancer. She had an unbreakable spirit. She came to know that fact after her lover had been killed. She, herself, didn’t know specific details about what exactly happened since the only witness was unable to utter a single word about it. Having no more ties to this land made her the ultimate soldier of freedom.

She bore no regrets and would die with none either.

Life felt easier and she came to be carefree in battle too; her movements more graceful than ever, eyes still fierce but now sharper. She wasn’t afraid not coming back from major fights. Tabbit came to terms with that soon enough. Cranes were soldiers after all.

She returned, unscratched, around midnight as she promised she would, exhausted from the small trip. As she left the Administrative District did she gaze at buildings and their uniqueness. A few had brutal-style architecture but got long leaves sticking out from windows and some walls had flowers and plants above the concrete-looking wall, fully covering the surface. She admired that sort of balance between people and nature.
Just as she gazed at other houses did she spot someone with fairly unsuitable silver hair being pressed against a big window in a… how do you word it? In such a provocative, suggesting position.

As she felt like she really didn’t need to see anything further, she hurriedly turned her head and left for their cabin, fast at that.
Around an hour later Izek came home as well, still sweating buckets.

“So you really are into redheads, hmm?” Tabbit’s smug expression was something entirely else.

“So what? In need of a hairdresser, brunette?”

“Oh, no, no! I've seen enough on my way home. You know, windows are quite large around here… and all…”

Izek didn’t say a thing back to that as he headed upstairs to bathe and tidy himself. Tabbit tsk-ed her tongue and headed upstairs as well, going to her room to rest up. Finally.

Kazuha slept soundly in his bed – a rare sight to behold – while their guardian seemed to dose off sitting a few inches away from him on his bedside. His head turned at Tabby’s arrival, smiling as he laid eyes upon her. She tilted her head and he explained in merely a whisper.

It sounded to Tabby that Vanitas was treating Kazuha in an overly sensitive way but she brushed it off. It wasn’t her place to determine whether that was true or not. And she knew that the boy was like a son to Vanitas, a child he grew beyond fond of. She also knew that the two were almost family, each the other’s last string to their real families and past. As Vanitas told most of them a few days back, he was close to Kazuha ever since his birth and he was the only person responsible for him ever since the cataclysm, him taking on the responsibility gratefully.

And in return, Kaz tried to never ask for anything. Never bother him but little did his naïve mind know that the knight loved every interaction they shared. If it wasn’t like that, if the past didn’t happen the way it did, he would never get a millimetre closer to Kazuha and may never discover the inner treasure he holds. By all means, the man felt honoured to have received such responsibility.

But that came with a price, too.

A price he couldn’t quite bring himself to tell anybody, especially his blonde boy. It would shatter him; shatter him to know his older brother died solely for him and the knight. Vanitas didn’t have the heart to tell him nor the strength to bear Kazuha hating him for this fragment he never voiced.