hugtopia_logs | those crystal blues

...Ah...

[Her words make his cheeks go a little pink, at first because he's pleased by the praise, then because it occurs to him just how he asked for help. As in, blind-firing help into his social circle and hoping for the best. He... actually has no idea who he sent those to, or how many, or what else he might have said if anything. It's pure luck that he managed to get one to Pyra at all. God, what kind of disaster is waiting for him when he wakes up?]

S-sorry, that must've really freaked you out, huh?

[It's only a half-apology, as he's not really sorry for needing help - rather, he doesn't regret asking. Still, he wishes there'd been a better way of going about it. Maybe if he'd had some sort of emergency contact set up, or only contacted her... all options for an alternate reality where he hadn't had an awful bloody breakdown and lost the capacity to properly think within seconds of realizing he needed her. Something to think about, though it may not matter after the fact.]

You never ask for help. I knew to come. [ Even though her words are simple, she's still wearing a smile. Sure, of course, it worried her immensely. At the same time, didn't they say they would celebrate each other, for moments of overcoming things like bad habits? Bad habits such as not asking for help?

This is one of those times, and so she leans down a bit to bring him into a half-hug. When she straightens up again, her hand is back in his. ] And I'm so, so thankful for it.

[He hesitates at that admission, his hand tightening in her grip.]

Do I really not...?

[It's true that when he's given help freely, he'll usually show that he's grateful one way or another. He can acknowledge that much- he wants to make sure that those who support him are aware that he appreciates it. He's awkward and kind of bad at it and forgets sometimes, but... he tries, at least. But asking for it, himself? That's... yeah, that's far more rare. He should probably feel bad about that, too, but she's saying she's grateful for it, and he is, too, so he'll try to hold off on the guilt complex there, for once. He purses his lips, considering.]

...Then, um... I'll ask you again. Help me?

[He's definitely going to need it, recovering from all this - with the problems he knows about, and those he doesn't - and even if she's already offered to take care of him, maybe it'll help her to hear that he's willing.]

Always. [ She says again, weaving her fingers into his. ] Always.

[ For a few moments, her smile is bittersweet. The memory of finding him collapsed isn't easy to forget, and if not for the simple request for help, she wouldn't have known unless she coincidentally attempted to warp or summon the sword he'd lent her, and discovers that the armory powers weren't working correctly. That would have been luck. This time he had chosen to ask for help instead, and that choice saved his life. It's a big step. Whether it was from desperation or panic, she's glad that he had asked, that he hadn't chosen to hide what was happening to him, which he could have easily done.

"This might not be all that comforting, but I've almost died plenty of times. It's not as big a deal as you might think."

This, he said to her the last time he had a near-death experience with the Fetter. ]

Noct, do you... [ Her lips purse as she thinks about how to word her question. ] You once told me that you've almost died plenty of times. That's it not as 'big of a deal'.

[ She tilts her head down, looking at him earnestly. ] Do you ever grow tired of that? Nearly dying.

[He winces at that. He really did say it like that, didn't he.]

Believe me, I don't enjoy it. If I had a choice, I wouldn't end up like that. But... you understand why, right?

[He gets hurt because he fights. He fights to protect people. Sometimes he protects people by nearly dying. It isn't because he chose that option, but because it's a natural consequence of not being strong enough to survive what's thrown at him when it happens. He's not proud of it, but he's not ashamed, either. To fight means to risk your life. That's what it means to be a soldier of any kind.]

Mm... I understand why.

[ He wants to protect others. That's easy to understand. ] But, um, I don't want you to think that it's a... casual thing to me. I'll always care about things like that. [ The light in her eyes dances with a bit of mist reflected in them.

Treating his near-death experiences as par for the course, as simply a part of his life as the standard, as "not a big deal", simply doesn't sit right to her. It seems callous to brush off such a serious event for a loved one to experience, and it speaks to the harsh reality of his life that he's so used to it, whereas she is not. She'll never be, immortal as she is. ] I know with battles it's different, and you'll always fight for others and put them first, but...

At least with the crystal and these memories-- a near-death experience doesn't have to be a part of your life anymore, okay? [ She hopes that he'll allow her that, just one pocket of his non-battle life being without the threat of being crushed and killed by the weight of the world's memories. She doesn't want him to be used to such a terrible thing. How would he appear if he was, perhaps as worn down as his older self?

He deserves something better than that. ]

...Yeah... okay.

[He'd never intended to make it into a casual thing; it certainly wasn't in the moment when it happened. There'd been panic and yelling, usually blood or some injury, plenty of pain. It wasn't a fun experience. He'd experienced it and witnessed it, both- through his own, or through the close calls of his comrades. It had happened too many times to count, as they'd fumbled their way through a dangerous, unknown world with too little information and nowhere near enough resources. Luck, magic, and stubborn teamwork had gotten them through the worst of it, every time. If not for all of that, any of them could have died multiple times.

It isn't casual, though. It isn't... "no big deal". and knowing how he'd felt in those moments, waiting in panic as a phoenix down kicked in or a potion sealed up a bad wound that could have killed someone who didn't have magic in their pockets, well. He knows how she must feel, watching him. He doesn't want to just brush those feelings aside like they don't matter, just because he's gotten used to playing fast and wild with his own life.]

The crystal... is gonna store them, you said. Keep the bulk of them away from my head, so this doesn't happen again. Is that- as long as I have it with me?

[He'd assumed that was the case, back when they first discussed it, but he needs to know for sure what counts as a permanent solution. If the wall breaks or something happens, he doesn't want to fall into that state again and upset everyone. He doesn't want to die through his own ignorance, either.]

[ It's as if she had been holding her breath, waiting for his answer. She isn't asking for him to be careful-- she knows how he is. And she doesn't know if him treating near-deaths as "no big deal" is how he copes with it, through all the times he has experienced it. She wishes he could have better than that, he deserves to be safe. While she knows he will continue to fight for others when necessary, that's his choice. The crystal's effects are not. At least... outside of the battlefield, he won't be in danger of losing his life to it. She wants him to have that. ]

As long as you have it with you.

[ She answers, her eyes flicking to the crystal on his chest, then up to his face.

Her telling him that she could take back the crystal at any moment doesn't seem so much like an option anymore, when his life is on the line. At the same time, if he dies, and she uses her crystal to bring him back, would it not reset him to a state that wouldn't need protection? A death loophole, as it were--

She doesn't want to test it. ]

It's--um-- we are used to processing and storing so much history. It will hold, but... [ But the hows aren't important. Pyra tilts her head, then, tentatively: ] How are you feeling? Up here, I mean. [ Her hand moves to brush through his hair, afterwards tapping a finger to the side of his head. ]

[He exhales a breath at that, heavy as the question itself.]

Like I've gone through a tumble dryer, at this point. [He's wondering if it's a miracle he even knows what that is.] I'm... not doing so good. I think. Not yet, at least. [He wobbles a hand awkwardly, struggling to find the words to describe it. If she gives him the time, he'll work through it, slowly.] You know how... when I got those visions, the last few times, I had a hard time coming out of it? Everything was fuzzy. It was tough to figure out what was mine, and what was theirs.

[It's easier to talk to her about the present, and the crystal and the sword and everything related to her, because he can ask questions and not worry about answers, things he should remember but have managed to forget, temporarily or not. He doesn't have to know about those things, because they're hers, and she remembers them just fine. He's... worried. About what he remembers, and what he's forgotten. ...Actually-]

I'm scared. [What's the point of being here, of her offering to support him and sharing her crystal with him, if he's just going to monologue his confusion in his own stupid head and keep silent otherwise? She can't help him if he doesn't admit he needs it. They already went over how he'd have been screwed if he didn't before.] I... I'm worried I waited too long, that I should have asked for your help months ago, or even back when you first offered. I didn't even remember that you'd done it at the time... I was in too much of a panic to know what I was doing when I sent out those messages.

[He chews idly on his lower lip, feeling awkward about admitting all this, but - and if there was one blessing about his current memory issues, it's this - not exactly sure why. Habit, maybe. Why is he so stubborn about keeping things to himself all the time? What purpose does it serve, isn't he just hurting people including himself?]

...I don't... want to hurt people, by forgetting important stuff that we've done together. But I don't know what got caught up in all this, or... if there's anything that won't come back. [No, that's not the only thing. It's for him, too.] I- I don't want to forget.

[ Her fingers continues to draw gentle circles into his scalp as he speaks, hoping to soothe him, as if it would make it easier. While she is worried for him, it would be a lie to say she expected that recovery would be quick, smooth, and without any obstacles or scars. He's scared and worried and he doesn't want to forget-- and she's grateful for him telling her this.

Her lips press together, thinking of something. ]

The memories of your star-- you're a part of it, aren't you? They must still be there. Maybe it's a matter of waiting. Maybe it's a matter of exploring the archives of memories themselves and finding them. [ Such as taking a metaphysical trip into memories that are being processed by the spliced part of her crystal that now rests upon his chest, like browsing a library. ] However, [ She continues, her tone firming, as if cautioning him from being too reckless. ] That'd be something reserved to consider in the future, not now.

[ Then the tone softens, as does her smile. ]

Besides... no one can fault you, if you need a reminder or two in the meantime. [ She'd like to believe those who know him well enough to realize he's forgetting one or two things would be understanding. She's more worried about any guilt he might feel over that forgetting, when it wasn't his fault in the first place why he'd forgotten. ] You're allowed to be scared. And to want things. And-- [ Another small tap upon his head. ] You're also allowed to be patient with yourself, as these memories return.

...Mm...

[He frowns but doesn't protest, his brow furrowing in the middle as he thinks on it. The potential for searching out memories... it makes him curious, but he sets it aside for now, not wanting to confuse himself or get his hopes up when he still has no concept of what his true state will be from now on. Maybe it's like when Mythra was in his consciousness and his armory, or... something. That's a problem for another day, as she said.

His fingers curl against the crystal again, helpless and instinctive. He keeps going back to it, trying to adjust to the way it feels in his chest. It's going to take a while, but at the same time, the reminder is useful. As long as you have it with you. It means he's safe.

Focus, focus... be patient with himself, huh.]

...Which means... I shouldn't let myself get too guilty about mixing stuff up, or not remembering properly.

[Easier said than done, but considering his habit of jumping straight to internalized guilt or ineptitude, it's something to keep in mind. He has a feeling he'll need to be kinder to himself or he'll go crazy trying to keep up with his own mistakes.]

[ She catches the movement of his fingers upon the crystal on his chest, his somber expression. Reassurances can be given over and over again, freely and without exhaustion. It's up to him how much he accepts others' words as something he can have, and she thinks he's doing better. Certainly , he's better at being easier on himself, compared to a year ago, or even a few months ago.

Additional reminders, support, and encouragement cannot hurt, either. ] Mm, Noct...? [ Most of the time, this precedes a question. This time, she leans in a little more towards him, and her hand stops brushing through his hair.

More emotion than she means for slips into her voice, earnest and loving and wanting so, so much more for him-- more peace, more safety, more freedom. Less guilt, less pain, less suffering, less blaming himself for things he cannot control. ]

It's not your fault.

[He offers up a wan smile at that.]

It's a little bit my fault. I have to be honest with myself on that one.

[It may not be his choices that forced an entire planet's worth of memories into his insufficient human brain, but she'd handed him a solution for what happened today months and months ago. He'd ignored it, he'd brushed it aside, he'd let himself forget more often than not. It would be irresponsible if he just pushed all of that on the gods; they did this to him, but the choices he made afterwards matter, too.]

No, Noct, it's not.

[ She's not budging on this one. She won't let him have this blame-- she can't. If this is his fault, then it's equally hers for not bringing it up again, when she had so many opportunities to do so, when she saw the signs, the increased amount of memories he was having, and still wondered if he was tolerating it well. Hoping, maybe, that he wouldn't need her crystal, that it wouldn't come to it if he didn't want it.

But she knows that he'd say it wasn't her fault, either, and it's not fair that he'd blame himself and not her, when they both could have talked about this solution more together.

She doesn't know how to say all of this to him. ]

[He doesn't answer. They could argue back and forth for a while, but he doesn't have the energy, or the mental willpower to push back in a coherent or logical way. It's how he feels, and she can't change his feelings, no matter how she tries. Her encouragement helps, and he's not stupid, he isn't going to bear the full blame for something that couldn't be prevented. It wasn't necessarily wrong for him to want to handle all of this on his own, or to want to have full agency of his own mind, rather than being tethered by her crystal- because he trusts her, and doesn't resent what's been done to him, but it was a last resort done in an emergency, and that isn't fair to either of them. The gods aren't fair. It's mostly their fault. Mostly.

Rather than answering, he closes his eyes for a long moment, quietly mustering his energy, then shifts his hands down to the grass, bending his elbows to try and prop himself upright.]

Help me up...

[ She helps him sit up, one arm around his back and the other on his shoulder, quiet in response to his non-answer.

She's certain that he's still blaming himself. ] Noct...

[Once he's sitting up, he almost regrets it, but he stays in position for a handful of moments, quiet and silent, getting used to being vertical. This isn't his real body, so the vertigo and exhaustion aren't real; he reminds himself of that, trying to focus on his intention, instead. He doesn't want to lie around. He wants to sit next to her, look at her properly, while he can. God knows he'll likely be flat on his back plenty on the other side, especially since he promised to take it easy.

Okay... so. Here goes.]

I can't promise you that I won't blame myself a bit for this. If I'm not wrong, then I won't learn. You said you were proud of me for asking for help... but would you have felt the need to say it, if it wasn't so rare?

[He makes a lot of mistakes, but he believes wholeheartedly that he's right on this one. There's a lesson to be learned from this, and if he remembers nothing else, he ought to remember at least this.]

I'll... promise to try not to dwell on it, though. Whose fault it is doesn't matter that much- or it shouldn't, at least. I thought I was doing what was best for me, but it wasn't. The Astrals must've thought they were doing what's best for the world.

[Whether it is, or it isn't... well, that isn't really up to him. Maybe there could've been a point before his death where he faltered. Maybe one moment of hesitation could cost someone's life, someone important in another grand scheme of the gods. The future is unknown to him. The past is bound to be important. He doesn't have the energy to be angry right now.

(Maybe later. Maybe there'll come a time when he rages at his fate, where he wants to shout at Bahamut for dropping this unwanted burden on him, one more in an endless, heavy pile. Not now, though. He's tired.)]

...Then we share it, [ She's not going to let him put all the blame on himself for not considering the option of a secondary crystal sooner. ] whatever fault there is in not bringing up the option of sharing this crystal sooner.

[ There could be excuses, such as her not wanting to impose more, to give him time to think, to not try to push him in any direction. But at least speaking of the option a few times wouldn't have seemed too imposing, and what good does inaction to help do, when it results in him being harmed?

Since they both at fault, maybe he's right. Maybe they can both learn from this: to talk about things, to not let things fester until it's too late. (Or almost too late, in this case.) ]

Ugh... you're too stubborn, sometimes.

[He doesn't want her to take the blame any more than she wants him to. He'd asked her if he could think about it, and she respected that. It shouldn't be on her shoulders that he failed to follow through. And yeah, maybe she could have brought it up, but what if it'd felt too much like pressuring him into it? That didn't seem like her, either. The ball was in his court, but she threw it there.

He mulls over it a bit, finally exhaling and resting his head against hers, shaking it slightly.]

I don't wanna play this game. Can we just... say we learned our lesson and leave it at that? I don't blame you, you don't blame me... it's such a waste.

[ She sounds so defeated, and she can't bring herself to press the matter when he's still so tired. Pyra nods. They can learn from this, if nothing else. With matters like this, a little more communication may have helped. Or, it may not have. They'll never truly know, but going forward, it couldn't hurt to talk on life-or-death matters.

Her hand slips from his shoulder, and she takes his hands in hers. ]

I love you, you know. And-- [ She leans forward, tilting her head up to look at him meet his gaze. She squeezes his fingers. ] I like how you always do what you think is best.... Not what others think, but what is true in your heart.

[ Some of his choices she can worry over, but she'd rather worry than him have no autonomy. ]

[His eyes lift to meet hers, listening quietly as those words sink in. He smiles after a moment, small, but a more proper one compared to before.]

I love you, too. I'm... really glad I remember you.

[Her words wouldn't mean as much to him if he didn't recognize her for who she is, he wouldn't take them to heart and put his faith in them the same way. He wouldn't have even remotely close to this level of calm, if she wasn't here and he didn't know her face or what her crystal represented. This could have been truly horrible, and it still is, but... with her, he's able to bear it somehow.

It hits him then, sudden and frightful, and his expression shifts, shaken and grateful. His hand tightens around hers, dragging it up to his lips.]

I... if I'd forgotten you, forgotten us... I don't know what I'd do. I never want that, I...

Noct...

[ If he had forgotten her-- she doesn't want to think about it. It didn't happen, but that it didn't happen isn't assuaging the grief he's showing from just the possibility of it.

Terrifyingly, at this point she doesn't know who or what he's forgotten. There's so many he's touched in his lives, friends, family, citizens of Lucis, and she hopes all of their faces and names are with him, all those lights. She's just one person, the one who happens to be in front of him right now. But when he wakes, he doesn't know if he'll even recognize one of those to whom he's sent a message of help. That is terrifying. ]

Come here. [ She brings him close, and like so many ties before, she tips her head towards his, allowing their foreheads to touch. Her hand remains in his. The other lifts to his cheek, keeping his head still, and she closes her eyes, and she inhales. ] Breathe...

[ It's a cycle of breaths, one, two. In, out, in a way that can be felt between them. One, two, a count, because sometimes turmoil can only be taken a day at a time, an hour at a time, a minute at a time, one breath at a time. He's taken one breath. He's taken another. He's getting through, one breath at a time.

She speaks softly. ] We're both here. I love you. You remember me. I love you. And any lapses for me or others... they'll come back. [ Her next words are even softer, for they are words meant for only him, not the field around him, not the tree above him, not the bell tolling in the distance; words he has heard before, filled with hope and the promise that this distress he feels won't be forever. ] I love you.

[He leans in with her, eyes closing, and quietly follows her lead through the breathing exercise. This isn't the first time they've done this, nor will it be the last, he fully believes. It comes easier to him now than it used to, though. Just breathe, just breathe, don't panic. Whatever comes, they'll deal with. Whatever memories are gone, they'll work around. He hopes - no, he's confident - she'll still love him when he's awake and they're able to determine how much of him is truly left. He... feels like himself. He's weak and slow, but still there somehow. And she's here, too.]

I love you, [he echoes, faint, but gradually growing less shaken.] I love you.

[He's not alone, and he's loved. That's the most important thing to remember, right now. The rest can wait.]

[ She's patient with him, quiet, allowing their I love you's to be interspaced by inhales and exhales and the tolls of the bell. When she opens her eyes, her eyes are shining with a fine mist, but she's smiling at him.

A small exercise like this isn't going to rid him of all of his worries in the coming days or weeks, but she hopes that, in this moment, it will make his pain more manageable. so long as he can remember he has a home here, so long as he can take every step towards recovery a breath at a time... She's certain he'll manage, that it will become easier to breathe, to remember, and to smile again. Her hope is more powerful than any guilt she feels. ]

Hey... You. [ She says, affectionate. ] One breath at a time. One job to rest.

If you feel you can't remember something, just tell me, okay? [ Her thumb brushes beneath his cheek. ] I'll help you. [ In case that hadn't been clear, her hand lowers from his cheek to his hand again, giving his knuckles a squeeze. ] It's absolutely no problem at all.

[He musters another smile at that, and this time it doesn't falter, despite his sheepish response.]

Wonder how I'll even know. Should I remember that I can't remember something? It sounds messy as hell.

[He's grateful, though, truly, and it shows in his expression and the softness of his smile. That fear won't go away with only this, and they both know it, but the fact that he can lean on her support is an immeasurable comfort. He wouldn't be able to even half-joke about this if she wasn't reassuring him. He suspects there will be problems if and when he happens to forget things, but he also doubts those problems will come from her. He just... has to do his best not to blame himself for it, or her by proxy. His frustrations or grief doesn't mean it's anyone's fault.

Something to work on. Nobody's perfect, that's for sure.]

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