Scene #8758: Glutton For Punishment

Owner	Pose
Petra Soroka	Chilly winter air, leeched of what little warmth it had by concrete walls and the metal bench, soaks through Hibiki's clothes. A couple blocks away from the campus of Lydian Academy, the sounds of chatter and scattered individual instruments being practiced at picnic tables and stools have faded away to silence, broken up only by the occasional car, and when the wind picks up and rattles the fences. The dugout at the abandoned baseball field is a relatively private place to loiter between classes, when being around people is intolerable. It's not Hibiki's place alone-- right now it is, but there's signs of previous delinquents taking shelter here too; faded spray paint on the wall behind the bench, stickers with the logo of some indie rock band plastered all over the fencepost. The floor is littered with old sunflower seed shells and a faint dusting of fine dirt blown in from the untended fields. It feels like shelter, with just enough open air to the city with its grey sky to not be as isolating as truly running away always is. Just a breather. And it stays that way, until it's invaded by the rapid scraping of boots hurrying down the steps outside. "Haha! Hibiki! There you are!" If the usage of her name wasn't enough, Hibiki could still tell which Petra this was by the little differences in voice and tone she's, inadvertently, learned to distinguish. "I was looking for you. I asked people which direction you'd gone, but other than that, I just had to run around, ahaha." With the terrifying prospect of Qetra wandering around Lydian planted in Hibiki's mind, Qetra slides her hand down the railing and then hops past the last two steps to land in the dugout with a cheery 'hup!' She straightens up and grins at Hibiki, looking almost the same as always. Blonde hair streaked with a metallic purple underlayer, held in place by two heart pins framing her face and welder's goggles pulled up off her eyes; the black collar around her neck is almost unremarkable in how it's matched exactly by the one Petra wears, even though that makes it stranger when she really thinks about it, and the wooden beaded bracelets that are totally unfamiliar to Hibiki still rattle around her wrists. Also unlike Petra, she wears her jacket tied around her waist, exposing her bare arms without any of Petra's accumulated scars. She has to be cold, right? She looks cold, with a purple flush to her skin, shivering and teeth chattering, but she still hasn't put the jacket on for whatever reason. "This k-kind of place suits you," Despite showing up so abruptly, Qetra doesn't seem to be in any rush to explain what the hell she's doing here, or even acknowledge the argument yesterday at all. Still making idle small talk, she flounces across the concrete to place herself on the bench right next to Hibiki, leaning against her for warmth and sighing. "The pre... per... performative isolation. Sort of like... hiding in a closet when you're sad. Because you can't stay, but you can't really g-get away either, right?" Shivering, pressed against Hibiki, Qetra feels more like a doll that's jittering from the motion of a motor inside her, rather than as if she has any proper muscles contracting. "And it's brown and grey too, haha... those are Petra's favorite colors, I think. Even though they're sort of... b-bleak."
Hibiki Tachibana	Usually, when someone intentionally puts themselves away from everyone else, it's with the idea that they're probably not going to be interrupted by anyone. An abandoned field, even if used in the past like this and almost definitely slated to be used for the future, is still somewhere only just out of the way enough that one knows they can be left alone. In the small in-betweens of classes, even Miku (probably) wouldn't pick up on anything until it's already time to go back. It's cold. She really doesn't like being cold. It's synonymous with being alone. Even putting it on herself on purpose, even only for a short time to get her thoughts together, doesn't feel good. Hands deep in her pockets and head tilted up to look at what she can see of the dour-colored sky, Hibiki lets out a rough exhale that turns into the barest hint of fog right in front of her. ...Her attempt at getting a moment is dashed in the most unexpected of ways however, when a familiar voice makes her heart skip a beat and eyes go wide, going from barely-relaxed to jolting upright in short order. "Qe-- ...Qetra!? What the hell are you-- how did you even--" Asked people? Ran around? Is she finally so stuck in her own head that she's imagining this? The thought of Petra's reflection, in her usual outfit and all even in this weather, going around asking after her specifically... Hibiki's head swims for long enough that she doesn't even realize that Qetra has sat down next to her until she's already easing weight onto her. The pause that comes after isn't because of the common invasion of personal space - because Hibiki never /has/ minded physical contact as much as a normal person - but because she's not actually sure how to even start at first... until memories of the other day come flooding back in. "...'Performative isolation', 'narrative stakes', 'arcs', all that stuff. Can it not /just/ ever be ducking away for a little bit because I don't feel great? I already learned all my lessons about running away seriously." Her complaining about the way of putting things that Petra or Lilian might do versus Qetra's simple way of phrasing it is mostly just empty verbal filler, while she rubs at her eyes with two fingers. Part of her wants to push her off, the other can feel her shivering and can't quite move her hands to do it. There's the usual act of awkward silence because she's not sure exactly what she wants to even say, but unlike usual, Hibiki doesn't seem to let that linger for overly long. With the only other person here breaking the ice with idle talk, she's the one that cuts right to things with a side glance after her hand falls away. "...She'd be pissed if she knew you were 'chasing after me' again. What the hell did you sneak all the way here for, Qetra? Because of everything yesterday...? You should know better than anyone she's not changing how she feels about it any time soon. She /can't/. I can't either."
Petra Soroka	"Can it not /just/ ever be ducking away for a little bit because I don't feel great?" "Hmmm... yeah~ that makes more sense to me, anyways." Qetra forcing out that more grandiose interpretation of Hibiki's current emotional state sounded forced and mimicked in the first place, and she gives it up without any complaint. Hibiki's choice not to push her away is met with redoubled energy in the physical contact, with Qetra pressing her thighs to Hibiki's and leaning her cheek on her shoulder. "That sort of thinking is ha~ard, so we can just leave it to the others, right?" 'The others', as if they're all still-- Petra, Hibiki, Lilian-- part of the same little group, and it's purely by coincidence that it's only them two here now. "...She'd be pissed if she knew you were 'chasing after me' again." "That's okay," At first, it seems like that's all she means to say about it. The dangling sentence hangs, then settles in the pause. The wind picks up for a moment, whistling through the chain link fence, and Qetra shivers. "... That's still better than her not saying anything at all." "She /can't/. I can't either." "Why not?!" Qetra's voice cracking like that is something Hibiki's never heard from her before; a dramatic departure from the languidly airy quality she usually speaks with. She straightens up a little, not pulling away from Hibiki, just lifting her head to stare at her-- or at least, somewhat near her eyes. "Why does it have to be so complicated? Life is so much easier if you just stay with your devoted, so why do anything else? I--" Her voice hitches, then picks up in speed, words falling over each other in a way that's more reminiscent of how Petra's mouth moves faster than her brain-- though, evidently, Qetra doesn't have a brain to move at all. "It would be okay if you hated her, too. If you yelled at each other every time, if you fought her, even if it never got better. It'd be okay if you were just jealous and wanted them apart. Anything. Anything like that." "And after yesterday, with her shouting so much... I sort of hoped you would shout back. Anything other than that... that horrible distance. It feels like it just keeps getting bigger and bigger." "I hate it, more than anything. So please don't say 'can't'." Qetra tugs her knees up to her chest and wraps her arms around them, leaning against Hibiki like that. She toys with the unfamiliar bracelets around her wrist, twisting them around and around while staring at them. Her voice takes on an alien, but familiar, distortion; warped tinnitus layered beneath words impressed with weight beyond their literal definitions. "I don't want to lose another <fragment of the mosaic>."
Hibiki Tachibana	Qetra really has never looked straight at her, in the eyes. Or at anyone, as far as she can tell. The fact that holds true even in this incredibly rare moment - is it the first time she's seen it? - of Qetra shifting tones entirely is a reminder of how disconcerting she can be. At least, it would be, were she not much more focused on the raise in voice itself, bringing her out of her own downcast stupor enough to look back at her with raised eyebrows. Interrupting a stream of emotional words like that is impossible-- or at least, she can't bring herself to do it, despite the matter-of-fact way she delivered her last line. Partway through, her eyes start shutting slightly instead, falling down to the near-nonexistent gap between them. There's, once again, a second of silence where only the light breeze of wind and the distant sounds of the city are filling space. "...I've already done all of that," Hibiki finally says quietly, face turning forward towards the empty field. "I've already tried sticking with her. And all that got me, from the very start, was messing everything /else/ up. Because I was hung up on her that much, because I always thought there was something more, or something different, that I could do. I did it for so long, longer than I should have. But I was never able go the whole mile, either way. And all that ended up doing was hurting...me, Lilian, and too many other people." "I've already yelled at her, fought her, gotten upset at her. Every time, it's just angry words that don't really reach, and more lines getting drawn. I was jealous for a long time, too. What they had with each other, I didn't. Years of wanting, and nothing to show for it. Even ignoring all my screw-ups, what I did or didn't do that could have changed things-- I'm not a 'girl like them'. I can't be. And I don't want to be. I'm not the Hibiki Tachibana that's strong enough to do that without losing too many other things. Or the one that can make it be simpler." Somewhere during that, her head lilted down, half-lidded and heavy eyes looking somewhere between her feet but not really quite 'there' either. "...I'm tired of it, Qetra. My heart's barely able to keep up with trying everywhere else already. And even if part of her does want different, she won't do anything else. I hate it too. But how am I supposed to just keep trying to brute force it?" Rather than the despondent 'can't', it sounds almost like a genuine, sullen question, for better or worse. But not one she expects an answer to. They're both idiots, after all. After another shaky exhale that isn't just from the frigid air, Hibiki's head turns to glance at the accessories. The sight of them, along with the equally unfamiliar shift in how Qetra speaks, the words she uses-- she's not entirely sure why it makes her feel as sad as it does. "... ...You've... lost them before. Huh? Who...?" She doesn't finish.
Petra Soroka	Qetra squeezes her knees, shrinking as if she's physically hurt-- which is also something really strange to see from the girl who was happily babbling at Hibiki with her arm nearly severed, just a week ago. "Don't just say you're... tired. That even though you used to be obsessed, now you're just... nothing. Strong feelings should mean something, always. They should leave an <uncleansable mark> on your soul, that changes who you are forever." She stares at the gap between her knees, letting the obvious physical representations of the phenomena she's talking about decorating her body speak for her. Then, despite the topic of conversation and her own malaise that started it, having Hibiki's attention directed towards her for such a long string of words obviously perks her mood right up. There's not even a breath to signal the seam between unheard-of levels of misery, and her familiar, lightly cutting tone. "Even if all fighting her ever did was hurt you, and her, and Lilian, isn't that still okay?" Rather than the rhetorical sluggishness that question would've been asked with earlier, Qetra almost sounds innocent for a short time. "Hurt is how you change. It's absolutely, totally unbearable to be the way you are right now, isn't it, Bikki? It has to be. No one respects you at all, not even yourself. You've lost so many of your friends, you're barely tolerated by the Watch, and you even need to ask for their help for saving your own world." A note of that desperation creeps in again as she keeps going, urging rather than questioning. "If you're not that Hibiki Tachibana, then you have to try to be another one, don't you? Only <corpses> stay still. So you have to fight to hurt, and then hurt to change, and then things will be different, not just..." It's only right now, that Hibiki realizes something about Qetra's mannerisms. She pauses in all the right places when speaking, to at least sound as natural as she can with the way she is, but those pauses are only ever breaths in flow, not actually in her lungs; pure tonal mimicry without basis. She notices it now, because Qetra takes a breath before finishing her sentence. "... suffocating." "There's a Hibiki you know you'd want to be, right? The one you said you were trying to be. Fighting for what you believe in, and always getting up afterwards, so you can inspire people not to give up. Petra's more like that than you now, which is horrible, because she learned it from you. I want you to believe in something again." "But how am I supposed to just keep trying to brute force it?" "You're stupid, Bikki." Qetra hums to herself, recovering a little comfort from Hibiki sounding genuine, which isn't dampened at all by the fact that she also sounds miserable. "I am too, ahaha. And so is Petra! So you know, that makes me really qualified to tell you this." "Since you know you're stupid..." Qetra lifts a finger up in a mocking-lecture gesture, and then pokes it into the side of her head. "Just fill your head with smarter people's ideas, ahaha~" Without even a flicker in between the two extremes again, like she has no practice with the emotional transition, her expression falls and the laughter in her voice vanishes. "Couldn't you try just asking for help? You're no good on your own, anymore."
Petra Soroka	"... ...You've... lost them before. Huh? Who...?" Twisting the bracelet around her finger, beads rattling together, Qetra looks breathlessly scared of something for a moment, before abruptly hoisting herself up and sideways on the bench, sitting sideways on Hibiki's lap. With her knees propped up on one side of Hibiki, and her abstractly intense face leaning in on the other, Hibiki feels like she's been pinned against the wall, even though Qetra still doesn't have an ounce of resistance in her body to stop her if she just stood up. Qetra rests her cheek on Hibiki's shoulder, bracing against her like she's confiding, or for support. For once, she seems to recognize that speaking at full volume when this close to Hibiki's ear would be uncomfortable, or maybe her voice softens for a different reason. "... Valerie." Wrists braced against her knees while she curls up, she taps a finger on one of the bracelets, close enough for Hibiki to inspect. "And Katja, 'Soroka'. She doesn't... go by that anymore." Qetra twitches, then lifts a hand to run it through her hair, sweeping back the blonde to expose the purple. "The girls that taught her to love space, and people. And those... core parts of us, they've left her now, but that doesn't make them go away." "Hey, Hibiki, do you want to know some secrets? Why Petra's like this? Why I'm like this?" Qetra doesn't say it like a question, and she goes right ahead pouring them all out in a breathy string of confessions. "Katja is the first girl Petra ever loved. She loved her so much that she took her name so they could be sisters, unbreakably together. She loved her so much that she refused to stop showing it even when Katja's father beat Katja nearly to death for it. She followed her into space, for her alone, and poisoned it by being there. Being hated by her is like being thrown out of home. There's no safe place in the multiverse, for her, because in the one place that could be, her mere existance is <miasmatic>." "Val was the second." Qetra becomes more raggedly desperate as she keeps talking, rambling over whatever Hibiki might be saying, squeezing herself tighter into the fetal position and shuddering involuntarily. "The one person who was okay with Petra despite everything. Even though Petra was so, so angry at everyone, and so absolutely unforgivable for being wrong in her soul, there was still someone who somehow slipped in, and Petra wasn't angry at her. Until she was. Val would take her back, I know, I know she would, and Petra would hate that, because it would mean she was never liked in the first place. Being hated by her is like being a pariah." "You see?" Qetra lifts up her face, eyes still, even now, focused on some point in the middle distance, past Hibiki. They're also, for the first time, leaking faintly iridescent fluid, tears glistening with rainbows wet on her cheeks. "I-I don't-- don't want to-- to l-lose you, Bikki. I d-don't want you to get tired of me. I'd-- I'd rather d-die. I m-might die. It feels-- feels like I am. I f-feel you m-moving away, and-- and it's like I'm being torn in half, and-- and I know Petra doesn't-- Petra doesn't w-want that either. She c-can't. She...."
Hibiki Tachibana	"If there was only nothing now, it'd be easier," Hibiki intones quietly, unable to shake just how /off/ it is to see Qetra like this. "Do I look like I haven't been changed at all by going through all of that? ...Can't imagine anyone would say it's for the better, either." A strained frown follows afterwards. It's natural to assume it'd be from the laundry list of things that have changed for the worse, and part of it probably is. Just as much or more is from the implication it's all fine, and the pinpoint attack on how she feels about the current state of things. And, probably, the realization of just how deep her drawing from others goes. "Hurting, being hurt back-- that doesn't even always make good change, the good kind of different. Struggling and fighting for things to be better always has a chance of that, I know that. But..." "You're telling me to keep fighting someone who only ever hurt me for the worse, and someone else I already keep hurting even when it's the last thing I want. You know how dumb that sounds, right?" She knows the answer. Asking still gives her a moment to exhale, eyes closing and head falling back until the bench's rear is supporting it, only idly bobbing when poked. "I'm only able to even get a little glimpse of what I believe in again... because I quit trying to chase after someone who keeps walking away herself. Both of us just keep stopping to double back a couple steps once in a while. It really is stupid. 'Smarter people' would be right to tell me to cut the crap and treat her like a total enemy. ...But you sound like you're fine with that too, huh." She's not sure what kind of feeling that inspires in her chest. She only tilts it back up and opens an eye when Qetra moves closer; it might not be a physical pin but it certainly is an emotional one. There's no chance Hibiki could prod at such a clearly sensitive topic and just push her away after the fact. That in of itself is sort of ridiculous, given Qetra is the one who showed up unannounced and gets this close without a second thought-- but it's true nonetheless. It's hard to tell if the pursed lips and slight look of discomfort she has is because of said closeness, or from what she might hear. Maybe both, the more she goes on. The look on her face at loved her so much and all that comes after is rough, and then she's the one who can't look straight at Qetra. There's nothing to desperately stammer over, because Hibiki can't get any words out past her tightly shut lips. It's difficult to read what she's thinking, until Valerie's story gets her bottom lip quivering and expression tightening, letting out a frustrated, drawn out sound while her focus goes to an empty corner of the dugout.
Hibiki Tachibana	It's not hard to guess. Why that's the one that really gets to her. It's not enough for her to miss the tears. And it's not enough that it doesn't hit her - really hit her, how much it matters to Qetra and what she is. A patchwork like her, from everyone Petra has those kinds of connections with... It's no wonder she's gotten on with Qetra. It's not just because she's some stand-in for Petra herself. It's because she's pure and raw emotion, and the ties with other people. And everything that comes with that. But... "...This isn't fair. It's not fair things like this keep happening... when I've been trying so hard to stop making the same mistakes... and do what I think is right... and still have almost nothing to show for it." "It's not fair that I have to feel like this, feel sorry about everything, feel like /I'm/ the one who has to struggle and fall over myself to close the distance with someone who's only ever hurt me...! Who's never done a single thing to close that distance herself, who lectured /me/ that sides have to exist, who got exactly what she was working for and made me lose so many things that were important to me-- and has a part of her that /still/ wants to have me, too!" What started as scratchy murmuring while still turned away can't stay that way for long. Not as it picks up on volume, not as she whirls back over and sits up further, and not as her hands come up in front of her own chest, clenched white-knuckle tight as if trying to hold onto something invisible. "What part of that makes any sense, huh!? Why is she allowed to expect me to live up to whatever invincible superhero she used to see when she looked at me, when she's the reason I can barely even try to be that anymore!? The hell is so wrong with me still having complicated feelings about all of it, when she's the one on the 'side' with the girl I lost any hope of having a real friendship with!?" "Why am /I/ not allowed to drop it and stop being obsessed, when she's tried her hardest to make sure I shouldn't have any reason to be!? And why is my stupid, screwed-up heart still having any trouble deciding when I already know better!?" Somewhere in the middle of the endless barrage of questions that demand answer, Hibiki's hands found themselves gripping Qetra's upper arms, past the line of painfully tight-- almost as much for her own support as to seemingly force her to look her straight-on for once. That manic, unstable edge to her voice, seeping in between strained and sharp inhales for the air to keep going on and on, the glint behind her wide eyes that's noticable only for a second, even while they're bubbling up with wetness of their own... ...is probably as close as Qetra will get to the sense of danger she spoke so casually about before, when meeting a 'murderer on the run'.
Petra Soroka	"Hurting, being hurt back-- that doesn't even always make good change, the good kind of different." "Doesn't it?" Qetra tilts her head at Hibiki, hair spilling to the side with dyed purple gleaming. Her uncomplicatedly confused tone, when talking about something so fundamental, is a sharp reminder of how little shared experience there really is between them; person and reflection. "I don't really know. But that's the way it's always seemed, when looking at all of you. Isn't any change good change? There's only two places you can end up eventually, and that's better or dead." She gets more dejected as Hibiki continues, twisting a fistful of her overalls around while curled up on Hibiki's lap. "But you're right. It's dumb. I'm lucky, since I don't need to do anything at all to change. Being <acted upon> is the only bearable way to exist. Having to move your leg to take each step sounds so hard; I don't get it at all." "... because I quit trying to chase after someone who keeps walking away herself." With Qetra sitting right on top of her, it's impossible to miss how that line makes her stiffen up. Glossy grey eyes widen, concentric patterns inside her irises almost invisible until they cycle within each other like gears. "If you'd listened to Lilian from the start, then everything would be okay now, right? And there's no one smarter than Lilian. Everything got so much better for Petra after she became one of her devoted, so can't you imagine the same happening for you? Don't you want to be <saved>?" Qetra practically whimpers the last part. Hunched on Hibiki's lap while she trembles, eyes wide and focused on some invisible point behind Hibiki's head, all she can do is suggest the one thing she knows, over and over. "... Can't you at least ask?" "...This isn't fair. It's not fair things like this keep happening... when I've been trying so hard to stop making the same mistakes... and do what I think is right... and still have almost nothing to show for it." Qetra doesn't flinch as Hibiki builds up to shouting; she still barely seems to process it, even though she's hanging on every one of her words. After pouring out everything about Katja and Val, just still having Hibiki's voice directed at her is enough to keep her anchored, rather than silence. She sniffles and wipes the back of her hand against her cheek, marveling with a feeble laugh at the oil-like rainbow the moisture creates. "... I d-don't... I don't know what's f-fair... or not. I don't... know a-anything ab-bout that at all." Even while crying and barely able to get her words out, even though they're rhetorical questions and she doesn't have answers for them anyways, Qetra still focuses on and at least makes noises in response to them. The only thing that actually ends a dialogue is silence. "Do things... have to be-- be f-fair? I don't c-care about fair. I just... just w-want them... ok-kay." Her arm curls around Hibiki's back, stabilizing herself on her lap. She sounds more and more exhausted as she keeps trying to think through more answers, words coming slower and less steadily. "If... Petra is... if y-you're both moving away from e-each other.... Petra m-moves away from y-you and... and she gets better. You... y-you move away from... from her, and get worse. S-so maybe, you don't have to at a-all? Maybe it's not 'distance' and doubling back, but... leading and following?"
Petra Soroka	Qetra makes a frustrated noise, and stomps her boot into the bench, clang echoing against the concrete walls. Even when she raises her voice and injects it with frustration and tears, it still rings hollow and airy when heard beside Hibiki's. "I don't know! I don't know I don't know I don't know! I don't know the answers to all these hard questions about hurt, and fairness, and right and wrong! I don't--" She hiccups, tears starting to pour out again, and grabs on to Hibiki's sleeve to wipe them without a second thought. "I'm not... m-meant for all of... all of this. Petra's the one who's... who's supp-posed t-to, deal with the hurt and... ph-philosophy; I'm j-just a girl! I'm j-just... just a silly l-little doll! I c-can't... do th-this." "Petra's... Petra's used t-to it. The <life cycle> of... running at s-someone so fast that... she shatters and creates <shr--" When Qetra gets cut off by a hiccuping sob, the tinnitus warble that leaks into her voice splinters into an unpleasant squeal-crunch, familiar to Hibiki. "Shrapnel. She's used t-to it, s-so it's... it's okay that it hurts her, and y-you, because you b-both... developed each other's s-stories. But I h-hate it. I don't want t-to... bleed out." If it hurts when Hibiki grabs her, Qetra doesn't show it, besides gasping more in surprise than in pain. As much as Hibiki tries to force her into place, where her eyes would have to meet Hibiki's, they slide off of her face every time; in tiny ways, not like she's completely unsure where her eyes are supposed to be focused, but the human brain is incredibly sensitive to the microscopic expressions of faces and eyes, and even the tiniest deviation is too obvious to pretend it isn't there. Still, it's not like Qetra isn't directing her full attention at Hibiki, almost uncomfortably so. There's only a couple seconds of silence after Hibiki finishes her outburst, with Qetra intense and still, stunned out of crying, before she moves. Leaning in abruptly, to press her lips to Hibiki's. When she pulls back after long seconds, it's only by an inch. This close, face to face, there's nowhere for her eyes to focus except Hibiki's. At some point, she matched Hibiki's grip on her upper arms by reaching her hands to Hibiki's back, holding fistfuls of her shirt. Her breath against Hibiki's face is light and scentless, and her mimicry of a pulse can be felt from her wrists through the thin fabric beneath Hibiki's jacket. "Is it unfair to want to have you? Is <gluttony> a sin? If it is, do I have to stop?" Nasal, breathy words, coming out in a steady sussurus without shifting pitch or intensity is familiar, in a hard-to-place way. "I don't want to. I'm sorry. I want to be a <tiny loved thing>. I'm sorry." It's the repetitive chant that finally makes it click. She sounds just like Petra did, clinging to Lilian after that horrible weapon hit her, babbling and pleading like nothing else in the world existed to her. "Tell me what it costs to make it fair. You can pick me up and use me to make it happen, for anything. Just promise not to misplace me." As steady as her pitch and rhythm is, it's obvious that she's feeling anything but. It sounds like a prayer, that she's invoking over and over, tightening her grip on Hibiki's shirt to the point that her arms tremble, without moving her face away from Hibiki's. "We can work it out. Just promise to stay. Just promise promise promise promise promise promise--"
Hibiki Tachibana	... Can't you at least ask? "Lilian? Ask her what...? You seriously think...?" In the middle of her raving, Hibiki's tone takes on that higher-pitched, starkly disbelieving quality again. "The girl who's right to hate me for hurting her instead of helping her? Who I've never ever even one time met the expectations of...? The same Lilian who /still/ tried to force me to get my shit together, when she had no reason to even bother?" "She's already done everything she can to 'save' me! Everything else is on me..." While processing that, breaths coming shallow and fast from emotional exertion far more than physical, there are actually openings for her to listen to what Qetra is saying. Despite everything, despite the pounding of her own heart and the barely-restrained urge to let even more slip out being louder than anything else, it'd be impossible to not hear her while she's so close. I don't c-care about fair. I just... just w-want them... ok-kay. I'm not... m-meant for all of... all of this. I'm j-just a girl! She's not a fucking window into my fucking soul, you creep! She's not me! She doesn't really know what's going on! God damnit. /Damnit/. This isn't fair, either. Qetra isn't Petra. She's a vital and core part of her, but not all of her. She doesn't see the world, or think in the same way as them. Heaping all of this on her, hearing her talk about how she just wants things to be better, how much she doesn't understand, how hurt she was, how hurt she is-- --...hurts her, too. A painful, heavy weight in her chest that she can't shake no matter how hard she tries. She hates every single part of it, every last one. It's all frustrating enough that her teeth are sore from clenching as hard as they are, and the bubbling liquid in the corners of her eyes is falling even as she looks to be on the verge of shouting again.
Hibiki Tachibana	And then, Qetra kisses her. It's so unexpected, catches her so off-guard, that there's no immediate reaction at all besides widening, confused eyes and her breath catching short. The fingers gripping into her forearms can't decide if they want to tighten or ease up, trembling where they sit. Even after those thoughtless few seconds, where the reflection is finally, finally looking straight at her, her own eyes seem to be seeing somewhere else even when staring right back. "...You..." What gets her to finally force out air and a single word is that stammering, that desperate stuttering and begging and need, so familiar to what she heard and saw back then. What does she feel, being held onto like life depended on it, the same way it was for Petra with Lilian? Being face to face with the raw, unfiltered, primal feelings of someone like... her? She doesn't know. There can't be one way. But mumbling words still make it out, shaky and strained from her lack of composure before, and utterly messy mix of emotions now. "...'Love'... isn't leading and following. Just using or being used... it's not this kind of greed, something this messed up... clinging and holding on, doing nothing but taking, only because you don't know any other way to exist..." It's as much to herself as it is to the other girl, and after a moment, Hibiki's gaze finally focuses back on Qetra's properly. Her hold gets rougher-- and then looser right after, even if she doesn't let go even while leaning back and giving a shuddering swallow of nothing at all. "...I'm not going anywhere. I can't, no matter how much I want to. We'll keep chasing the same goals or standing on opposite sides, forced to deal with each other no matter how we feel about it, and it's going to rattle the shrapnel around each and every damn time..." It's not intentional reassurance, so much as somewhat sickening realization. There's another shaky exhale, and Hibiki lets her go completely, a sudden and instant push that's almost like a delayed response to Qetra's biggest invasion of her personal space and feelings yet. Her body falls back into a hunched-over position in her seat, breathing audible, and upturned hands now in her lap pull themselves into fists. "I'm... going to help with the Beauty of Ash. Like I was already going to. But whatever happens after that isn't on me. Following after her makes 'me' less of 'me'. I can't live like that. If she really doesn't want all of this either... she can show it for once. Or if she just wants to hate my guts, she can show that too. She doesn't get to have an excuse for sitting on the edge too. If you want to do something for me, you can tell her that." "... ...Someone like you shouldn't be stuck in the middle of this. Feel like this. ...I'm gonna be sick."