[ sierra noticed the small portrait she got of rean, and she wonders even now that she’s offering to show it to kisa if she should burn it afterwards. it’s not a memory she wants to keep, but at the same time, her sentimental heart is afraid of forgetting his face. ]
Yes, well… I usually do feel much better after long naps.
[ sierra manages to throw some dramatics behind this sigh, as if it’s merely an inconvenience that she doesn’t feel especially rested after two weeks. ]
[ and back to sierra’s room they go, where sierra takes the small, intimately painted picture from its place on her old bedside table.
it’s beautiful, objectively speaking, and it would be even if rean himself weren’t a beautiful person.
his hair is long, silver and elegant, spilling over his shoulders like moonlight. although the portrait is too small to have full, incredible detail in something like his eyes, his irises are nevertheless set like rubies behind thick eyelashes. he looks proud, and noble, and handsome, just the way sierra wants to remember him. ]
…
[ it takes a moment before she can look up from it, and she passes it to kisa once she’s sitting down. ]
I was amazed at how beautiful he was, the first time we met.
[ Kisa's quietly awed noise isn't even any manner of exaggeration. The members of the Sohma family are beautiful, but she'd grown up with them, and even with Ayame's beautiful silver hair pouring down his back like a waterfall, his eyes were more amber than crimson.
And this man looks just like a prince from a fairy tale, or a knight from a far away land. ]
It’s almost unfair, isn’t it? My hair stopped growing, when I became a vampire, and I knew that his would too. So he never cut it, from the moment we met.
[ it had always made him look elegant. all of him had been so perfect. ]
[ he did, she nearly finds herself saying, her tenses all confused when she’s still recalling the warm sound of his voice in her dreams. it’s as if he was only just here, in her bed, and her chest aches with the memory of it. ]
[ Oh. She'd peeked in on Sierra once or twice (well, no, definitely more than that) and she could have sworn that she'd looked like she'd been crying once.
Kisa studies her now, as quietly concerned as always. ]
it doesn’t make the love they shared any less real, after all, that he died—although admitting that she was the one who killed him is still a detail she thinks kisa doesn’t need to know. ]
But I’m afraid I haven’t been completely honest with you.
It was something I’d told you early on. Something intended to comfort you… but perhaps I was only protecting myself.
[ sierra sighs. this is clearly difficult for her as well, but she’s already committed to sharing the truth. it wouldn’t look good for her to try to change topics now. all she can do is be honest, loath as she is to do just that, but kisa deserves to know why sierra seems so melancholy.
[ Kisa stays silent for a long moment. Because, if she had to be honest, it's a lot to process, but she's also thinking back to everything Sierra's ever told her about Rean. How... wistful she'd seemed. The wish she'd made. Kisa had thought that it really had been a long time since they'd seen each other, but if it was just that she really wouldn't ever see Rean again...
Quietly, she stares at the floor. ]
He... was like you, wasn't he? He stopped aging... I thought that meant he couldn't die.
[ many vampires died by their own choice—ceasing to drink human blood, without sierra’s moon rune to keep them safe, eventually took its toll on most of the people she’d come to love over centuries. then, there were those like rean, who turned to monstrous actions in order to sustain the eternal life that she had given him.
it wasn’t fair, not to his victims, and not to the person he used to be. ]
…yes.
[ how can she explain this? ]
There had been an incident in the village. Where we had lived peacefully for years, many of my friends began to turn into monsters. Rean was among them.
[ it's not a word she's ever enjoyed hearing, for more personal reasons other than the fact that "monster" never really held a pleasant connotation for anyone. ]
[ sierra draws a breath, the closest she’s yet come to crying while awake and able to stop it. ]
Yes. In a way, I lost him four hundred years ago.
[ the unfortunate part is in her wording—in a way. although she’d parted from rean when he ran off to sustain his life in ways she could never forgive, it was all too recently that she’d actually run her hand through his chest. ]
[ Four hundred years ago. That's... such a vast amount of time for someone who can't even comprehend what it would be like to even live for a hundred. It's no wonder why Sierra longed to hear him again. To see him. To have a dream about him that had left her in tears.
It's... so terribly lonely, and even if Kisa isn't the one personally experiencing that loss, her eyes well up anyway. ]
[ sierra could have anticipated such a reaction. kisa is just a little girl, and there’s no way she would be able to stomach the idea of being left alone for 400 years.
she reaches out, smoothing her hand along kisa’s cheek as if she could stop the tears here. ]
Don’t cry. [ a soft, sad smile. ] You’ll make me cry.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
[ sierra seems a bit sleepy, still, as if she hasn’t completely woken up—or perhaps it’s something more like melancholy darkening her red eyes. ]
I’m awake now, in any case.
no subject
[ Sierra, you don't look too chipper. ]
no subject
[ she touches her forehead, looking troubled for only a moment, and then her worries give way to mere weariness. she smiles down at kisa. ]
Would you like to see a picture of him? Of Rean?
no subject
[ More importantly... ]
Will you sit down for it?
no subject
[ sierra noticed the small portrait she got of rean, and she wonders even now that she’s offering to show it to kisa if she should burn it afterwards. it’s not a memory she wants to keep, but at the same time, her sentimental heart is afraid of forgetting his face. ]
I can. Are you worried?
no subject
[ She can admit it. ]
You really... don't look that good.
no subject
[ sierra manages to throw some dramatics behind this sigh, as if it’s merely an inconvenience that she doesn’t feel especially rested after two weeks. ]
Come to my room, then. We’ll sit on the bed.
no subject
[ Well, she'll follow Sierra, keeping a close eye on her and only not reaching for her hand because she'll wait until they're at least sitting down. ]
no subject
it’s beautiful, objectively speaking, and it would be even if rean himself weren’t a beautiful person.
his hair is long, silver and elegant, spilling over his shoulders like moonlight. although the portrait is too small to have full, incredible detail in something like his eyes, his irises are nevertheless set like rubies behind thick eyelashes. he looks proud, and noble, and handsome, just the way sierra wants to remember him. ]
…
[ it takes a moment before she can look up from it, and she passes it to kisa once she’s sitting down. ]
I was amazed at how beautiful he was, the first time we met.
no subject
[ Kisa's quietly awed noise isn't even any manner of exaggeration. The members of the Sohma family are beautiful, but she'd grown up with them, and even with Ayame's beautiful silver hair pouring down his back like a waterfall, his eyes were more amber than crimson.
And this man looks just like a prince from a fairy tale, or a knight from a far away land. ]
He's... really beautiful. You're right.
no subject
[ it had always made him look elegant. all of him had been so perfect. ]
no subject
[ Like he's an actual work of art. ]
no subject
[ he did, she nearly finds herself saying, her tenses all confused when she’s still recalling the warm sound of his voice in her dreams. it’s as if he was only just here, in her bed, and her chest aches with the memory of it. ]
Did your wish come true, Kisa?
no subject
[ Kisa has yet to learn about psychic shields. ]
no subject
[ sierra breathes out a small sound, neither a sigh nor a laugh but something in between. ]
I dreamed of him. I think that’s how the town saw fit to fulfill my wish.
no subject
Kisa studies her now, as quietly concerned as always. ]
You... really do miss him a lot, don't you...?
no subject
[ sierra should tell her.
it doesn’t make the love they shared any less real, after all, that he died—although admitting that she was the one who killed him is still a detail she thinks kisa doesn’t need to know. ]
But I’m afraid I haven’t been completely honest with you.
no subject
[ She... doesn't really look hurt. Maybe she's used to this, people hiding things for (possibly) her sake. But she does droop a little. ]
no subject
[ sierra sighs. this is clearly difficult for her as well, but she’s already committed to sharing the truth. it wouldn’t look good for her to try to change topics now. all she can do is be honest, loath as she is to do just that, but kisa deserves to know why sierra seems so melancholy.
why she was crying in her sleep. ]
Rean is… dead.
no subject
[ Kisa stays silent for a long moment. Because, if she had to be honest, it's a lot to process, but she's also thinking back to everything Sierra's ever told her about Rean. How... wistful she'd seemed. The wish she'd made. Kisa had thought that it really had been a long time since they'd seen each other, but if it was just that she really wouldn't ever see Rean again...
Quietly, she stares at the floor. ]
He... was like you, wasn't he? He stopped aging... I thought that meant he couldn't die.
no subject
it wasn’t fair, not to his victims, and not to the person he used to be. ]
…yes.
[ how can she explain this? ]
There had been an incident in the village. Where we had lived peacefully for years, many of my friends began to turn into monsters. Rean was among them.
no subject
[ it's not a word she's ever enjoyed hearing, for more personal reasons other than the fact that "monster" never really held a pleasant connotation for anyone. ]
So... he stopped being the Rean-san you knew?
no subject
Yes. In a way, I lost him four hundred years ago.
[ the unfortunate part is in her wording—in a way. although she’d parted from rean when he ran off to sustain his life in ways she could never forgive, it was all too recently that she’d actually run her hand through his chest. ]
no subject
[ Four hundred years ago. That's... such a vast amount of time for someone who can't even comprehend what it would be like to even live for a hundred. It's no wonder why Sierra longed to hear him again. To see him. To have a dream about him that had left her in tears.
It's... so terribly lonely, and even if Kisa isn't the one personally experiencing that loss, her eyes well up anyway. ]
no subject
she reaches out, smoothing her hand along kisa’s cheek as if she could stop the tears here. ]
Don’t cry. [ a soft, sad smile. ] You’ll make me cry.
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)