jigokulogs | 🌸 one

Entry tags:

🌸 one | ota.

Who ⬤ aerith and you!
What ⬤ substories! i'll also be using this post as a catch-all as the month goes on.
When ⬤ let's say early march. just to be spicily unfocused.
Where ⬤ i'll specify when necessary!
Content Warnings ⬤ i'll edit this to reflect anything, so please make sure to warn in subject lines if your character brings anything up for my own reference! ❤

as a note, if you'd like to plot something personalized, i'm more than happy to chat! you can hit me up with a PM, or message me over on plurk @

hagclub.

wicked on the weekend (night parade PREP, a)

[ It takes a great deal of wrestling with a young youkai with fish's head to wrench the weapon from his grip. It had been obvious immediately, and she's already seen some similar things confiscated. For what reason, she's admittedly not very sure, and as far as she's concerned, it's not really her business. He had been carrying a staff of some sort, an unwieldy thing that collapsed into itself when handed over at Aerith's eager, chipper behest. She only needs to look busy, so the smile she wears is perhaps a dead giveaway.

She holds it up, that woody looking staff that smells slightly of river water and fish scales, inspecting it at eye level. It's dark in color, looks a bit like a twig, but is much heavier than it looks. Her fingers ghost along what feels like hard plastic when...

Hopefully you dodged, because it snaps open, a terribly sharp blade angled directly for her partner's face. Perhaps you got saddled with her of your own volition, or you thought she needed help. Maybe her light hearted approach to the situation has caught your attention, because this isn't the first time she's done this.

She immediately hands the staff back, blade still out. The youkai practically preens in response. ]

I think he can keep it.

[ Her assessment is simple. Why not, really? Maybe he'll need it. She's very, very sure of this decision, and looks to her partner with her fists upon her hips. Do you agree? Argue? Or maybe you should convince her that the two of you need the staff. (She would not disagree.) ]

can i get another amen? (night parade prep, b)

[ A case, woven from fine bamboo, is shoved into your face. The lid nearly topples off, and hangs by the neck of a bottle. It's full of them— alcohol resides inside, and they clink together enchantingly from within their bamboo-y prison. They're practically glimmering with the reflection from the neon lights. ]

Special delivery from Tamamo!

[ Her voice comes before Aerith peeks her face out from behind the case, waiting. ]

We've got more drink where that came from.

[ She waits more, still. Cat got your tongue, or maybe the bottles are just too pretty? ]

...Take it! [ This is the place that was expecting a delivery of spiked juice? ]

it's saturday night (sweet jacket)

No. [ Shaking her head, she continues in a frank tone. ] I don't think it's your jacket.

[ Aerith has a basket dangling from her elbow, stuffed with decorative flowers. Across the bridge is more businesses, and part of the parade route. A problem had presented itself to the pair of you on your way to deliver more decorations in the form of a young man wearing a rather trendy looking jacket. It certainly looks like it's Shuten's speed, from Aerith's cursory glances around the territory.

The man is unready to admit defeat to her simple, matter-of-fact statement. He shakes his head in disbelief, but it's hard to miss the crestfallen glint in his eyes. Aerith feels a twinge of regret, but better to hear it than keep believing it. Right? ]

Aaaand my lovely assistant, [ She turns to you, smiling cheekily. ] can explain to you why, can't you?

[ Her green gaze flicks to the river, where the water soaked visage of a goddess glowers at the trio of them. She gets the feeling she might have to run across this particular bridge from now on, if only by association...

Leaning in, Aerith whispers: ] Psst! Break it to him gently.

wildcard (closed prompts)

[ my ooc intro is here if you wanna plot something out more specific. i'm always happy to write a starter if someone contacts me for one, too! on the other hand, if you prefer to use my post, you're totally welcome to use this for a wildcard open. i'm also only a PM away, or contactable on plurk, listed above!

locked to nia. ]

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[ six can't make sense of why he isn't moving away from aerith. she backed out at the last moment but he knew she wanted to take his mask off, so why didn't he try to dodge it like he usually did? maybe he can blame it on the drug. that lapse of judgement. who knows. all he can do is huff quietly, but there's hardly any annoyance tied to it.

if anything, he just feels tired. ]

Alright. You won't take no for an answer even if I try to refuse you.

[ he knows that look, after all. once a decision is made by someone persistent like aerith, he understands there's hardly any room for arguments. he allows her to lead him through the crowd, marvelling at how warm her fingers feel around his wrist. don't ask him why this is what he focuses on. maybe because it's better than the alternative, which is admitting there are things that shouldn't be there creeping up from his peripheral vision.

he ignores them all in favour of listening to her. that one bright light in the middle of this hellish place. ]

... As for why—

[ it wasn't all that long ago since nehan tried to observe what certain side effects can arise after ingesting specific drugs. if he can spare aerith the trouble of going through that, he would do it a million times over. ]

My body has been exposed to various toxins as a part of my training. I'll be better equipped to handle this should it prove to be poisonous.

[ i'll be fine, he wants to say again, but she might not even believe him. he can only hope she accepts his explanation with little protest.

(and if she notices him returning her hold by wrapping his own fingers around hers, mostly to keep himself anchored in the present, then he prays she won't say anything about that either.) ]

Would you look at that! You already understand me.

[ There's a playful familiarity in her voice, like a smile that doesn't quite meet your eyes. Hard to miss, but easy to ignore, like so much of her. If she plays it like there's little different in their situation, it'll find some kind of stability. Don't downplay it, but don't feet it, either.

—There's a warmth coming from him that she doesn't miss.

It blooms like springtime flowers and hangs over her head like rain clouds, unmistakable. She hears his words— Aerith hears the way he commands his words, his tone not at all that different from normal, and she knows he's telling the truth. He's holding her hand: a vulnerability she wonders if she should bother mentioning. He's already probably getting high on who knows what.

Instead, she turns to find the exposed skin on his face, what ever there may be, and checks his temperature with the back of her free hand. She doesn't let go; she wishes sometimes that people didn't let go of anything, so she keeps a tight grip on him. Anything to keep Six anchored to the ground. ]

What's wrong? [ She can hardly stand to be quiet, and worse yet, she tries to decipher how he's doing from the limited view she has of his face. ] Don't worry. I'll get you home and tucked in right away. [ It's a promise, sincerely so. She wonders if this is what Elmyra felt when her mother brought Aerith home.

She can't not speak. "Chatterbox" has never been the wrong descriptor for Aerith. ]

Was that your... assassin training? [ It sounds ridiculous to her, the idea of hurting someone over and over to raise their immunity, ...but she sees the use in it, too. It's better that way, for his survival, if they help him build tolerance. (Maybe her perception is a bit warped from living in Shinra's care, as a sort of lab rat herself.) ] It doesn't make it any better. I don't have to be protected, you know.

[ Not that she can say she's had her tolerance to medicine built up over the years. ]

[ even though aerith won't be able to see, all thanks to the mask, his eyes slide shut out of familiar instinct when he feels her hand settle on exposed skin. it's not much, just a tiny sliver from where part of his neck is visible before it's sandwiched between the mask and the high collar of his shirt. he doesn't feel all that warm to touch, but his grip around her wrist tightens by a tiny fraction. it betrays the parts of what's happening that he'd like to keep a secret.

don't worry, she tells him, i'll get you home and tucked in right away.

it's not the worst outcome in the world, but maybe whatever this drug is might be slowly getting to him if that's his first reaction. the shadowy shapes haven't said a single word so he's able to ignore them for now, at least. ]

It's nothing I can't handle. Like I've said, I'm used to this.

[ another truth that isn't quite the full story. he wonders if this is as bad as it's going to get, but he is careful to grow comfortable with that. he's used to surprises rearing their ugly heads much later on. ]

And I'm not— trying to protect you. [ after all, she told him that she can handle herself. ] But it might as well be me, should anything happen.

[ between the two of them, he's the one who doesn't bring as much value. ]

So don't worry about it.

[ easier said than done? most likely.

he's just trying to make sure not to trip before they make it back to aerith's place. ]

( ooc. a weak tag... forgive me. )

[ Used to this or not, she doesn't care. He could harp on about how he can handle it all day, but there's something different here. How it's manifesting on him behind that mask, she has no idea. Still, it's not hard to miss the way annoyance flares in her like a forest fire, hastened by worry. Aerith feels the way his grip tightens, and she twists to face him, brows knitted together, gaze trained on him with both doubt and disquiet threaded into her expression. ]

Six, listen to me. [ She places her hand over his palm, closes it tight. The way she speaks, they might as well be the only two people in the city. Her attention is solely his. ] I know. But you have to get it together, for just a little longer. Okay?

[ He can't hide it. Maybe it's just the fact she's had to learn to read him beneath the mask, but something trickles out of him— or into him. Whatever it is, it's polluting Six the way rot takes meat. Guilt sits like lead inside her. She won't forgive herself if she doesn't do everything she can to help him right now.

She can't hide it either; he prattles on about how it's better if it's him, as if there's something lesser about himself. Who taught him that? Where did he learn it? She wants more than ever to lift that mask off his face, but she tells herself he's breathing find with it on. (She keeps quitting, she thinks to herself.)

Tamamo's lights blink into existence over a bridge. The buildings stretch so tall in her faction's territory, they look like they nearly touch the sky; or maybe it looks more like the sky is closer than anywhere else. People march by them, barely noticing Six and Aerith. The sun is setting at her back.

Wordlessly, she keeps leading. Her grip on him is tight, like she's going to anchor him to the ground. Her apartment complex isn't far, and it seems to crawl closer and closer; the lotus flower that seems to be hand painted onto the sign advertises itself as a lovely place. It isn't, but it is Aerith's. ]

[ there are moments when he is reminded of the past. the bright lights of the city morph into shadowy shapes, angry ones that keep saying a monster like him shouldn't get comfortable around her presence. aerith doesn't deserve to put up with him when he's already inconvenienced her so much, but a part of him doesn't want to let her go. while her voice is enough to keep him grounded, it's her holding onto him in return that makes this so much easier to deal with.

of course, that's a comfort that is slowly eroding over time. ]

... I'll do my best.

[ soon after he says it, tamamo's territory begins to surround them. the apartment complex they're heading towards looks similar to the one he's been housed under, but something floral and vibrant stick out like a sore thumb. he tries his best to make sure he doesn't stray too far from the path they've taken, and once they're close, he slowly pulls his hand away.

he finally lets her go, allowing his hand to drop back to his side. ]

You make it so easy to figure out which one is yours.

[ He does not speak in riddles, really. But there's always something someone reveals to you about themselves in what they say, how they word it. Their life experience comes together in puzzle pieces to make up the picture of themselves, and if you study these pieces enough, you'll see the big picture. When Six speaks, she gets the impression of a river being held back by a dam. If she could, she'd break it down piece by piece. ]

What do you mean? [ They're standing in front of her door, a beaten down welcome mat beneath her boots. Aerith pats her pockets just to discover she must have locked herself out this morning, and kicks back the mat to reveal a spare key. Her mother usually let her in, or the door was unlocked. When the door opens, it gives way to a single room apartment, shockingly tidy for someone who seems to be going everywhere at all times of the day. Pots of soil sit by the window, where Aerith has tried her best to get the seeds inside as much sunlight as she can. A single flower flourishes in one: a yellow lily, with delicate petals. It's as bright as the sun in that one corner. The couch is old and beaten up, but she's tossed a pink blanket over it. A vintage cabinet that sits just barely adjacent to reveal the implication of a wardrobe. The futon insie barely fits. She's been trying to make it home, within a budget. ]

C'moooon, don't be a stranger.

[ Instead of waiting, she slips behind him to push Six inside, then locks them both in. There's a great deal of silence for a moment, as she mulls over how to take care of a drugged individual. What Aerith falls back on is memories of colds she's weathered with Elmyra by her side, and she soon comes to stand in front of him, raise her hands to his mask... and attempts to pull it off.

He can't rest in that, you know. ]

[ when the spare key is revealed to be hidden under the welcome mat, six almost says out loud that it's careless. anyone who knows the trick could have searched there first and unlocked the door to aerith's place without a struggle, and then what would happen? of course he'd agreed to teach her how to defend herself properly but even then, anyone can be easily caught off-guard and that requires a whole different approach.

instead, he simply sighs and allows her to push him to step foot inside. he doesn't mention anything about the decor. it suits her just fine, he thinks, all the floral imagery and pots of soil. he wonders if there will ever be a day when he'll come visit and find a garden growing out of her place.

he's so distracted by this thought that he barely has the time to do anything before she manages to peel his mask off. his reaction is almost immediate: his ears are alert, pointed all the way up, a bright red flush colours his cheeks. the lack of his mask reveals lilac eyes that are wide, practically a deer caught in headlights. ]

H... hey!

[ even his voice pitches higher than it usually sounds.

he reaches for his mask, but his actions are sluggish. maybe the drug is affecting him more than he thought. ]

Give... give that back.

[ Six's mask is pulled from his face without any fanfare.

Truthfully, to Aerith's eyes, it's nearly an extension of him. A limb, in some manner of speaking, and she simply reaches up and plucks it from his face. His eyes are as beautiful as she remembers, she thinks, the pink-purple tint to them like jewels she's only ever seen in pictures. There's a fine chisel to his cheekbones, but nothing that ages him. She had half-expected an injury beneath the mask, or something else, but hindsight flips in her mind. It's a mask not unlike the helmet that the public forces wear, she supposes.

Curiosity strikes. She moves to place the mask on her face, the idea wholly adventurous to her. She's never worn something like this before, and besides, would Six really mind? His high-pitched plea for mercy stops Aerith, who looks at him with knitted brows and a pout. As far as she's concerned, this was an important thing to do!

Part of her wishes, however, that she had waited. Maybe it should feel more... special? ]

Oh, quit being a baby! [ It's left on the counter. It'll stay there. She is watching him, the same way a hawk watches a fish. ] I'm not taking it away from you for no reason. You need to be able to breathe. So?

[ She waits for a moment, as if expecting something from him. In truth, she's drinking in the sight of his bare face: Aerith makes a note to herself. He's handsome, but not in the rugged sort of way she had come to expect from the dime-a-dozen SOLDIERs. It's that fresh-faced manner she knows from the ones she knows; Cloud, and Zack come to mind. Embarrassment suddenly crawls up the nape of her neck, flushing her all the way to her ears, and she turns away to busy herself with fetching the futon for him. Hopefully he doesn't mind sleeping in a bed that smells like soap and soil. ]

Something is on your mind. I can tell. [ Standing and facing him, Aerith offers him a smile. She hopes it's comforting. She can't see it in his expression, twisted with shyness and who-knows-what, but she felt it. His touch, his voice... Occupied with something else, distance had emerged between them, somehow. She's not one for it. ]

Spill it, Six.

[ it takes aerith half a second to peel the mask off his face, and another half to put it on hers. throughout it all, six seems to have forgotten what it's like to breath, holding it back until he's forced to exhale — slowly, surely. he doesn't understand why she's the one pouting at him when it's his mask that was stolen, not hers. then again—

this does feel a bit abrupt, the way it just happened. there are plenty who try to take his mask away for the sake of his reactions, and while he knows aerith wasn't aiming to fish one out of him like that, he wonders why he's wishing he moved out of the way before she succeeded.

he shakes his head. maybe he really is being a baby. ]

I... I breathe just fine with it on. [ he protests, voice still a few pitches higher than it usually is. he's never stopped being so shy and anxious once this part of him is exposed. ] But fine.

[ he knows, he knows — there's no arguing once aerith has made up her mind.

he tries not to pay attention to just how much she is looking at him right now. there's no explanation for the red flush on his face other than the fact that he doesn't have his mask on. it's definitely not because she's choosing to study him, like an interesting specimen up on display. a lost treasure finally uncovered.

he's very much pointedly not looking her way. ]

What's there to talk about...

[ he was so caught up with how she's making him feel that he almost forgets about the shadowy shapes. they were barely audible up until right about now, and some have started to get on his case for daring to think he's free to burden someone else with his own problems.

you'd ruin her if you tried to get close. you know that.

he sighs quietly, his ears dipping low. ]

It's not worth the trouble.

[ In kind, Aerith deflates just as much, shoulders slumping. Still, there's a glimmer of bright stubbornness in her gaze and tone, and she moves in such a way that it's clear her hands would be on her hips if they were free. ]

I'm not some delicate flower you're going to crush, Six. Trouble or not, you're acting like a giant baby. Something's on your mind.

[ Walking toward him, she eagerly shoves herself into his personal bubble, gaze narrowed and suspicious. He wants to wiggle out of her grasp, but Six is in her domain. A knowing sort of smile crosses her expression as quickly as a stone skips across water; she won't let him wiggle away. ]

Is it about the mask? You're not getting it back till you leave. Sorry! I haven't gotten sick of that cute little beauty mark on your face yet.

[ She can't help herself. ]

But, really. [ Leaning back just a bit, she still holds the futon captive in her arms. How she's managing all this without dropping it must be a testament to how much she's carried in recent weeks. ] Talk to me. I can take it.

[ it's always so difficult to let someone in. a part of it is because six doesn't think he's worth the trouble, that he isn't all that important. he's sure aerith has far more important things to concern herself over so he'd rather not add to it when it's something he can handle by himself. if you count ignoring the problem and pretending it doesn't exist as a valid way to handle it, that is.

he makes himself focus on helping aerith set the futon down. this way, at least his hands are keeping busy, his mind isn't zeroing in on the many shadowy shapes now scattered all around this tiny apartment. they occupy the space that aerith has made for herself, dragging in a negativity that doesn't quite belong.

it's easy enough to tell just how bothered he is by what's going on when he barely reacts to aerith pointing out his beauty mark. ]

I... [ with his hands holding onto the futon, he waits until the other relaxes her grip before he tries to set it down himself. ] I think it's an effect from the drug, but I see things that I know aren't there. They're telling me things I already know, so I'm trying not to listen.

[ what he doesn't say is how much harder that is to do, given the way their voices are slowly growing louder. ]

I'm sure they'll go away once the drug has worn off.

[ The futon is rolled out, and Aerith fusses with it so that it's perfect. The pair of them accomplish his much, and she laughs a little over it. ]

Maybe so! [ Her quip is accented by the knowing smile she gives him, looking up at Six through long, brown bangs. What he describes to her is not new to Aerith in any capacity, as a person who has spent her whole life sensing what isn't physically there. Life, in truth, always finds her: For that reason, she only gives him a smile, sympathetic in it's ghostly corners.

His voice carries notes of sadness, a haunting sound that she'll remember for her whole life. There is a great deal of him that is a mystery to her, she realizes. How much of it will require taking down walls, brick by brick? ]

But what are these things, Six? [ He says he already knows them, offers it up on a silver platter for her to dissect. Aerith's brows furrow in concern, though the smile is still in place. This is, she hopes, a safe place to him. She holds no judgement in her voice. ]

Things that...

[ his voice trails off, because he was just about to say that they're things aerith shouldn't have to worry about, and he knows that she'll just call him a baby over that again. he wonders what's the simplest way he can describe it. maybe just repeating what these shadows are telling him will be enough. being honest always sounds like the easiest solution, and yet somehow the most difficult to follow through with.

he sighs quietly, gaze lowered to focus on the floor rather than her bright eyes. something tells him that she'd just see through everything if he tries to lie. ]

Things that I already know. That I'm a monster, for one thing. That I should have never been born. [ when he explains, his voice doesn't waver, as if he's recounted this more than enough times. ] What I see resembles the ones whose lives I've taken away from them so I suppose they're not too happy with me.

[ he talks about it like it's just any old story, and not one where he admits to committing murder. ]

[ The simplicity of his words is not lost on her. This is a fact about himself that he has accepted, one that he cannot shake. He agrees with them. There's a twist in her gut for a moment, and no longer than that, because while Six is someone she considers a very good, dear friend already, it's his burden to make peace with. There's only so much Aerith can do— and right now, the best she can offer him is getting to know him. ]

Hmm... [ He looks away, but Aerith can't have any of that. Getting onto all fours, she shimmies closer so she can try and peer up into his eyes; those pretty pink eyes she's so curious about. You know, the longer she looks... the more she thinks of a guy who definitely doesn't like her. Finally, Aerith rests with her knees pulled up to her chest when she responds. ]

Back home, I know this guy. He's not bad, he really isn't. [ Rude definitely isn't, and Reno probably isn't, either. There's a difference between the hand and the heart in matters of the government. ] He told me once, "You're right. I'm not a bad guy, but sometimes, I have to do bad things."

[ That distinction is important to her, apparently. The heart of a person can never change, and if there's goodness in someone, she'll always find it. She wants to see it grow, and overtake all the pain in their life. ]

Those things you're seeing, Six? They're there because you think they should be.

[ A beat. ] Well, we all feel guilty. But, in the end, what we choose to do means more than what we have to do. And... maybe it sounds a little silly, but... I don't think you're a bad guy.

[ The smile she gives him is genuine, just like always. ]

So, maybe you won't remember it, but for every one that tells you you're a monster, I'll be here. To remind you of the things you want to do. Okay?

[ aerith gets right up at this face all of a sudden that six struggles to remain upright. it catches him by surprise because he didn't expect that she would get so close to him like this, but that's why it makes little to no sense when he tries to follow after her once she pulls away. he stays put, right where he is, and looks down again.

she says that she'll remind him that he isn't a monster but he wonders if he is truly worth the trouble. ]

I've killed innocent people, you know? Children... their parents... [ when he tries to exhale, it comes out like a strangled noise. ] To be honest, there's someone here from my clan whose entire family I slaughtered. He is a constant reminder of what I've done.

[ there's more to the story that he isn't saying. they are pieces of it that he's still trying to make sense of, because he's only just learned about it before waking up here in this place. he tries to piece together what he can remember. ]

He told me that my father made me drink something as part of our clan's rite of passage. My father thought it would make the clan accept me, if I managed to surpass its effects, but in the end...

[ that's why they're all dead. that's why their blood is on six's hands.

he stares down at open palms, a quiet, forlorn look on his face. ]

With my own hands... [ defeated, he whispers quietly. ] I don't know how I'll ever make up for it.

[ This is a complex subject, death. She listens to him; truthfully, Six could not choose a better person to confess these sins to. A white mage, with ties to the very life force of the planet, born from a lineage of wandering healers who split earth and stone to spread fertility into the soil like cutting open the planet's soul and feeding it medicine by hand. Assassination is a hard topic, one that perhaps she will never fully be able to explain her thoughts on. Everyone dies, though, and we all make choices that bring us closer to our demise every day. For that reason, as Six takes his confessional with the priest on duty, she wears a mask of placidity. He had already told her he killed. This changes little of her opinion of him.

She sees the anguish, though, under the layers and layers of healed scarring in his voice. ]

You can't.

[ Her voice is a breeze. She believes fully that Six, just like her, is more tied to life and death than he realizes. He can feel the anguish of those souls, still. Their lives are still sitting with him, all this time later. ]

They can't forgive you anymore. You took that from yourself. [ There is no point in coddling him, but is equally pointless to lie and tell him that he could make up for it in some way. He knows what he's lost, and that truth is something Six has lived every day. This is what he's built up in his mind. Brick by brick, he has built this wall to cage himself in from the reality of his existence. The fact he is still, despite all the agony and bloodshed, still going. Aerith cares little for the idea of taking a metaphorical hammer to this brick wall; if this is the reality he wants for himself, she'll let him have it. But she won't let herself live by it. ]

So, the only thing you can do is live. Not just for yourself, but the people who love you. We have to take care of them and the memories we make by their sides. They're precious. [ Looking at him calmly, she thinks to raise her hand to his face. To cup his cheek, gently— but she doesn't. Aerith doesn't dare cross that line, not with him like this. ] ...Those people won't leave you. So, treat them well. You're their legacy.

[ You can leave it as a sad one, she supposes. No one would blame him for it. She thinks, however, it takes more courage to pull yourself up and live. ]

[ what aerith says isn't entirely new to him. these are things he has already told himself countless times in many different ways, but it's the first time that hearing this from someone else has a profound effect on him. there is nothing to hide the expression on his face: a troubled look, brows furrowed and lilac eyes filled with nothing but guilt and regret. he can only manage to level his gaze with aerith's for a few moments longer before he has to look away again.

it really does feel like she's just capable of exposing all his secrets, but what's more surprising is the fact that he doesn't mind. he doesn't feel any better for confessing his sins to someone else, and yet he can't deny the weight on his shoulders feel a tiny bit lighter. it's not enough to completely free him from what weighs him down, but... it'll have to do for now. ]

I'm afraid I can't promise anything concrete right now, but—

[ after all, nehan is still here. nehan exists in this world and he has claimed that he wants six to suffer. six is willing to give him that and more.

still, his voice doesn't waver when he continues to speak. ]

... I'll try.

[ he'll try to live for the sake of those who care for him. he'll try to take it day by day. it's the most he can offer for now, so he can only hope aerith is alright with it. ]

[ She's hardly surprised by this. His voice wears persistence in such a way that she thinks he means it when he says he'll try. There is something terribly real and sincere and vulnerable about his person in this moment; he feels small. Of course, Six isn't small by any means.

She makes a noise of approval, smiling, and nods her head in agreement. ]

Right. You will.

[ She knows better than to expect anything more than small steps, but as long as they're steps forward, she knows it can be done. Suddenly, she shuffles aside, settling down next to the head of the futon, and pats the pillow she's set out lightly. Something like strawberries and fresh soil wafts from it, not unlike Aerith's own natural scent. ]

You know, guys always try to hide their feelings! I'll never get it. You feel way better now, don't you?

[ they haven't known each other for that long and yet aerith has managed to lure this out of six. she just has that sort of effect on him, he supposes. not that it's a bad thing, but it's mildly terrifying in a way. he makes a mental note to himself: never get on aerith's bad side.

he does as he's encouraged to do, settling his head on the pillow. this leads him to look up at her while he's lying down. ]

I guess—? I don't feel any different...

[ the shadowy shapes are still there. they're still saying the same things, but— he's lying a tiny bit. his chest feels lighter, no longer close to suffocating like he was earlier on. ]

Is this really necessary?

[ for him to sleep, that is. ]

[ A fair question he poses, she thinks. Arguably, it isn't the best idea. She gives him a thoughtful stare before tilting her head, miming a shrug. ]

You wanna stay awake?

[ She won't stop him; there's a great deal she'd love to share with Six in her apartment. Still, she thinks that it's better to sleep off any effects before risking him getting worse off. ]

... Fine.

[ as it is, six has no energy to spare just to argue with her. he simply takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. maybe later on, when he wakes up again, the two of them can talk about how aerith managed to make this place feel like home.

nightmares don't visit him when he finally falls asleep. ]

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casually wraps this up?!