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[uh huh. sure. trapmaster and all. anna could say a lot of things, but really, the core of it comes out with satoko talking about the older version of herself that she'd met back in january. anna nods slowly.]

I did. You gave me a hug and made fun of me for asking sad questions instead of just getting the hug. [but this isn't really the time to direct anything towards herself. she pushes herself up a little.] Why? Was that not someone I should've met?

It hardly matters, really. It just makes it easier that you remember her.

[ "her." not "me." ]

She's... [ she thinks a moment longer, and sighs exasperatedly. ] It doesn't matter how I explain it. She isn't my future, and she certainly isn't my past. She's a me that never should have existed. But she's still a part of me now.

[ she reaches over, grabbing one of anna's pillows and hugging it to herself. ]

You understand so far, yes?

An alternate version of yourself that got drawn back into the original. [she nods, understanding better than she'd like.] This isn't the first place or time I've run into something like that.

[she pushes off the door entirely, then, and comes closer to the bed. sits down within touching distance of satoko. her hand touches the sheets, almost inviting her closer. it's better than a pillow, if it comes to that.]

Keep going.

[ satoko looks over. she genuinely considers it. and ultimately, she turns back, facing the floor once again.

she's not seeking comfort. not exactly. but she's not rejecting it, either. ]

...she had a daughter.

[ that part speaks for itself, really. ]

[as someone who's never cared about children and who's convinced that she won't ever be able to have any again even if she did, it's hard to relate immediately to what satoko means by this.]

[as someone who has lost too much, it's too easy. she pulls satoko against her chest the way that she'd once done for anna. puts her hand in her hair. breathes and longs for the days she had a heartbeat to calm people with because the slow, glowing pulse of the black box just doesn't work the same.]

I'm sorry.

Edited 2022-03-21 21:41 (UTC)

What for? It's not as if you did anything.

[ but she lets herself be pulled into anna's grip, lying against her chest without even a token bit of resistance. she sighs out as she breathes, and in that sigh lies something inhuman. old - far older than a person should be. tired. ]

I remember raising a girl that isn't mine. I fear for her safety despite knowing her mother is already there for her. And I want to see her again. More than almost anything. [ she shakes her head, manages a familiar scoff of disdain. ] Honestly, how inconvenient. I thought I'd gotten past such mundane attachments centuries ago.

[ she knows better, of course. she's known better since before she ever came here. ]

Satoko...

[she wants to give her a stern talking to right now. she wants to throw the words that ms. kimiyoshi had told her back into her face. about just allowing yourself to be loved. to experience emotions. to not shut things off and pretend that she's better than them. but it won't be helpful right now, so she holds her tongue.]

You don't have to pretend like it doesn't hurt to lose people. She was important to you, and the memories aren't going to disappear just like that. You already know how long memories last. [better than anybody in trench, she would wager.] I'm sorry that this place gave you that and took it away from you after just long enough to get used to it.

I'm aware of that, of course. I'm not trying to pretend otherwise. I'm simply irked that I have a daughter I can't see, from a husband I didn't choose.

[ the irritation is real, of course. but the sadness is still there beneath it. ]

I suppose I might have found out eventually. After I grew tired with this world, perhaps. Or perhaps a few more down the line. It isn't as if there're any shortage of possibilities.

[anna sighs. she could say something right now, but it just. doesn't feel like the right time to talk about—it doesn't matter. christ, satoko. anyway.]

I guess there's not much point grieving when you can jump to a timeline where it's not a problem anymore. [she sounds defeated more than pissed, but there is still some irritation bubbling below her voice. she gives it a moment to stop simmering before she continues.] I can't imagine being that patient. I don't know how you do it sometimes.

Why would I grieve even if I couldn't?

[ the question is genuine, but the emotion is beginning to drain away. this is the satoko anna knows, after all - for better or for worse. ]

It has nothing to do with patience, Miss Anna. She's alive. Her parents are alive. She leads a happy life, with friends and a family that supports her. The Sakiko and Satoko Kimiyoshi of that world don't know I exist, and they certainly don't need my intervention.

[ ...it's strange. she's speaking coldly, evenly - but she's still clutching the pillow, still leaning into anna's touch. ]

If you had proof that Rose was happy, living a life where she succeeded in her goals, would you want her to come here?

[good. they're both trading barbs at each other, but they're not going anywhere, either. why is this the kind of relationship that she has with so many people who matter in her life?]

I have that proof. [she says it quietly, like it matters.] And for a while, there was still a part of me that wanted her here. Even though I knew it was a bad idea. Even though I knew she was doing better without me. I'm selfish, I guess. But I think I see your point anyway.

[she frowns a little.]

I just don't know why you'd come here to let me return the favor if you were just irritated about it.

[ satoko nods as anna speaks. the woman does see her point, after all. just because they're calling it different things doesn't mean they don't see eye to eye.

she misses sakiko, so, so terribly. it aches when she thinks about it, worse some days than others. but sakiko isn't hers to miss, and it'd certainly be terrible for her to show up here. so for now, this is all she can do. ]

...I thought you might understand. [ it sounds a bit pathetic, put that way. she hastily clarifies: ] Better than most, at least. It isn't as if I have many people here to talk to, after all. Especially not about...

[ well. all of that. ]

[she understands. or she does her best to, anyway. and she holds satoko with a little more tenderness, the way that she's been getting a little more practice with lately.]

I don't understand everything, but I think I get this. [she was caught up on the wrong things. she just needs to be here for satoko without worrying so intensely about the particulars.]

Even if it's the right thing for her to be where she is... it still hurts to not have her. And I'm sorry that it does. I wish I had an answer for you, but I still haven't been able to find one, except to live with the hurt and hope one day it goes away.

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