#ppl asking akira things gets me SO bad + this topic especially....?!?!?!? akiras homesickness.......

[flovverworks]

"What was your family like?" He speaks in his same flat affect: genuinely curious, but unsure how to put the tone into it -- Mithra is, as he always is, like a worn and polished stone (something flat and water-smoothed and tired). They're good at getting him to sleep, and humans talk to each other about things before sleeping, correct? Maybe Akira will be soothed. Or maybe he will. It isn't so different from Tiretta with Rutile, or from a long, long, long time ago with other people. It's like he's sticking a knife into something fragile and peeling, as if pulling apart a ripe fruit, careless as he continues on, unknowing of any pain he could possibly provoke. This is just his nature. "When I was old enough to have memories of the world, I had no family around me. I still don't know if I have something that I would have a right to call that. Tell me about yours."

It's reminiscent of when they first arrived in this world, alone and lonely, lost and confused, like when losing your mother on a busy street—but at their age there was no option to cry until found. They are lying to me, they had read and found it difficult to breathe. Nevermind, it was a misunderstanding! Sorry!, they had read and felt like a fool. But no matter how kindly they were treated or how comfortable they were or how little they expressed wanting to return home now, it didn't help some nights.

(Does he notice? The peaceful look that vanished from their face.)

And then, there was Mithra, continuing on with yet another sentence that made them want to sob. They had asked about his life before, but the image of a young Mithra living alone and rowing that boat back and forth made their heart break. Were his memory failing him? He had lived for a very long time, how many moments of that life do you remember? Even Akira, who had barely lived in comparison, couldn't remember each second of their life. Or, had he been truly alone? Struggling through the hardships the Northern country brought, eating alone, surviving alone, sleeping alone...

The grip on his hand tightens, a one-sided reassurance. Did he not consider Rutile and Mitile family? Would they, if they asked them? (If Tiretta hadn't turned to stone, would he still say that?)

And even so, despite the pain, despite the nausea laying in wait, despite the wondering what their family was doing right now, they're happy. They're not sure if Mithra actually means it or if he's looking for something to fall asleep to, but it's personal all the same. Were they growing closer if he was asking that? A step toward another's heart, not taken by them this time, but by him.

They sort through their feelings, careful not to let their voice waver (if they start crying they're not sure they'll be able to stop). Pauses are scattered between talking of their sister and parents, of playing and being loved. Happy and comforting memories, their voice low and gentle, hoping that even one of them would bring him the peace of sleep.