"Almost Green"

The Unforgiven Pt. 2

The orchard.

That damn peach orchard, again.

Countless bullet casings have fallen between the three of them here.

Countless shouts of bullet vendors preceded their little sessions of sneaking out in the middle of the night, because they never had the francs for their own, rightfully purchased boxes. Lem was the most nimble-fingered one, no doubt. She'd chat up a dealer, puppy eye-ing her way into his heart and loading her pockets full of lead while they were fawning over her innocently sweet questions about gas block mechanisms and the advantages of hollow point over full metal jackets. Andy and Mostima would stand on the sidelines, watching her spectacle with expectant grins. All calm and excited. It was only after the salesmen would notice their missing merch when the screaming matches would begin and their legs kicked into second gear motion.

And then they'd come here.

Here, to this exact peach orchard, where the lush tree crowns covered them from the twin moons' gazes, and where the fruit provided a nice midnight snack.

They were still there, even up to this day.

Reaching, spreading over their heads. Leaves, knitting together a roof, one that cared for Andy far more than his old tenement hovel ever did. That house pawned him off for a fistful more of inspiration.

But there? In the orchard?

There were memories afloat, up in the air.

And both of them could feel it. Both of them felt drawn to the stars more than ever, more than any other night spent in Kazdel or on the rooftop of Lungmen's library. Perhaps Andy did not want to look her in the eyes outright. Maybe he just needed to gift her some time, because he's already been given more than enough. He bloomed here, and he wanted Mostima to bloom right alongside him. Back in this pitch black orchard, just as she always did.

Her voice broke the silence, and Andy felt her lips shift. Mostima prodded into his side, asking.

"... What if I just compliment you on your shooting instead of those sixty francs? And admit once and for all that you're better than me? At least in this regard."

"Works." Andy blew a few bubbles in the wind, feeling the gales playing lovingly with the curls on his forehead. "... I wouldn't have taken them anyway, even if you offered."

"I know." She quietly confirmed. "I never understood that part of you. Glad to see it's still alive and well. And still as annoying as ever."

"It was annoying to you?"

"Bah." She scoffed in an amused manner. "Of course it was annoying. You'd never let us treat you to anything nice, never let us pick you out the good stuff at the cafeteria, never let us order you hot chocolate. And for what? Was it some fragile sense of pride you were digging?"

"No. I just didn't want to come off as a leech."

"And you never did." Mostima seemed to express herself a little more loose, which Andrew didn't quite know how to feel about. His heart told him it was a good thing.

"Between the three of us, I thought you'd always be the simplest, most straightforward one, since you're a guy." She continued, staring blankly at the scattering starscape. "Me, Lem... you know. Us, girls. Girly problems. But you? Guilt over nothing at thirteen years old? Come on. It just sounds ridiculous."

It did sound pretty ridiculous. Too bad it took his seven years to realize.

"I didn't know how to tell you about it properly, that's all." Andy buzzed under his nose, feeling stupid and dumb over it all. In hindsight, he should've handled it differently. Maybe times would've been better if he did. Maybe Kazdel would've remained nothing but a distant thrill. Maybe Laterano would've been a little brighter, gleaming with one additional smile. Maybe, maybe not.