epidemiology | CLOSED. Watching from the edge of the circus

[ None would ever mistake Shuyi for a wallflower in her past life. She was always gravitating to the center of the room, basking in the attention and embarking on wild stunts just to win the spotlight. But after the months spent on her own out there in the wilderness, she prefers the stillness.

Solitude refuses to let her forget or drown away any of her thoughts. That's just what she deserves.

she is barefoot, crouching on the hot sand while balancing on the tips of her toes with a shrub in front of her. The plant seems dead and dried out by the sun, but she affords it such focus. Only when she hears footsteps approaching would she look up with a smile, gesturing silently for her company to come closer. ]

[ Lucina finds that she needs to shake off her nervousness, barely clinging at the edges despite her excitement, the curiosity. She pauses once, twice on her way towards the white building, a slow shake of her head that returns her to reality.

What a curious gift, she thinks, turning the corner to see a stranger ( the stranger, she presumes ) crouched over.

It seems ... wrong to speak, almost. She gives a small nod, lips curling up at the edges in an almost-smile, walking as quietly as she can until she's crouching beside Shuyi. She notes the shrub with a puzzled gaze, waiting for ... something. She's not sure what, but waiting seems like a good plan anyhow. ]

[ It's good that Lucina kept quiet without her needing to tell her to. She herself seems overly giddy about something, barely able to contain her excitement when she lowers her hand like s bridge to the dried out bramble. Then she waits, stock still and silent while biting back a grin, as a small iridescent bug tentatively steps onto her finger and flutters its multicolored wings. She raises her hand to show it to her company.

Shuyi makes a sound, a gasp, only when the insect sinks its teeth into her skin, but even then she tries her best to keep from flinching. She laughs when it flutters away. ]

You are, Lucina?

[ The excitement reminds her of Cynthia, or even Morgan after finding something particularly... exciting. It's infectious, allowing herself to relax slowly — she's still curious, of course, but the tension in her shoulders disappear, leaving only excitement in its wake.

Concern almost leaves her lips, but she's still not sure if she can speak — it's only when Shuyi laughs, addresses her, she finds her voice again to respond. ]

I am. It's a pleasure. [ Her eyebrows furrow again when her gaze falls to Shuyi's hand. ] ... Are you alright?

[ She waves her hand to dismiss her pain, making up for it by smiling even wider. ]

It was more afraid of me than I was of it.

[ Looking about, she finds an area shaded by a rock wall, starting to walk toward it while gesturing for Lucina to follow. ]

I hope it wasn't hard for you to reach here -- and if it was, I hope I make it worth the while. So, tell me what you hope to get from this meeting.

[ She stands, dusting off her clothes, before following Shuyi along. Some part of her is unsettled — she's not sure what to make of the girl yet, completely in her element and speaking in riddles — yet she's not mean-spirited ( that much is obvious ).

She shakes her head, letting those thoughts rest for now. ] Not at all. I hadn't been too far.

[ Ah. That's the question isn't it? The message was one of impulse, a sudden what if thought formed into a proper, magical set of words. ]

... There is a friend. [ She begins. It feel strange to call the individual a friend now, mostly because some part of Lucina isn't sure if she deserves it. ] An incredibly selfless individual, who believed in the bonds they have with ... us. [ It's hard to talk about it without the full context — but that'll come soon ( probably in the next tag ). ] They are not here. [ She should clarify that, a frown crossing her features. ] Nor are they with us back home.

Your words reminded me of them. [ She glances at Shuyi. ] I ... wished to see the bonds that they spoke of.

[ Riddles are her favorite hiding place.

She slows down as Lucina speaks, out of respect, coming to a stop just a hand's breadth away from the cliff reaching so high Into the sky that it almost seems to curve over their heads. There is still a smile on her face, smaller now and a little sad, apologetic. She bends down to pick up a random pebble, reddish brown with white veins threading across its surface, which she shows to the girl. ]

Those bonds are much stronger than the kind I can destroy. That is a good thing.

[ She is glad for the limits on her power. What greater destruction would she have wrought otherwise? With the rock held up between two fingers, she traces a line along the white vein with her index finger, causing it to break into two. ]

But people much wiser than I have said that we are more entangled than we seem. An inseparable whole. Do you know how mothers know the moment their sons die at war?

[ She lets the silence settle, a strange mix of reminiscence and a quiet hope that somewhere out there, Robin is alive. Her father seems to believe so — and really, this one time, she's more than happy to let her rational side go for this.

Her eyes wander from the cliff sides to the small pebble in Shuyi's hand, eyebrows raising when the stone snaps. A small tilt of her head, as her mind sets to work again, trying to understand what she just saw. Are these the bonds — ]

Hm. [ She lets out a small noise, eyes eventually flickering away. Shuyi's words sound like the ones her father believe in, always repeated, and ones that caused Robin to do what they needed to do. When she smiles, it's a sad one, eyes downcast. ] I didn't.

[ She wonders if this applies to children with parents fighting a war — but a brief moment later, she knows it's definitely a feeling that reaches both ways ( she's felt it, to some extent ). ] But I do not doubt that it is true.

[ Shuyi tweaks a smile, a sad one to match Lucina's, as she clasps the two stone pieces together to fit like puzzle pieces. Separate but whole. ]

We have elders we call the Garhla and they tell us that each person is made of dust from many, many stars we have never even glimpsed. But when one of those stars ignite and die, so do a little part of us, even if we do not know it. That is because these dust [ Because she knows nothing of atoms or quantum entanglement or spukhafte Fernwirkung ] are entangled.

[ She steps closer and reaches out an empty hand toward Lucina, as if setting it over her heart. Her smile is brighter this time. ]

Just like how we are now entangled. Because we have met, when I die a part of you will know.

Garhla... [ What a thought — inexplicably tied to one another other based on their origins, long before they were who they were. Lucina's eyes widen in an almost child-like wonder, marveling a little at the thought.

At most, stars have been a sign of hope for her. The idea that they could be more than that is ... frankly, rather exciting; and a great distraction from the current, more ... somber topic at hand. ]

A bond that inexplicably holds each of us to each other. [ Maybe she's starting to see it now. ] ... I'm not sure if this is the correct thing to ask, but — what are they like?

[ Shuyi is pleased to see the wonder in the girl's eyes, now that the conversation has taken a better turn. But her smile is tempered when Lucina asks the next question. ]

You are not wrong in asking. [ She pauses then, unsure how to continue. Who is she to talk of bonds between people when she has cut herself off from those dearest to her by her own mistake? ] But I would be the wrong person to ask, and perhaps you should be the one to answer your own question.

[ She thinks she has been cryptic enough so far however, though not at all intentionally, so she offers a reassuring smile in case it helps. ]

Is there someone you are entangled with, Lucina?

[ Briefly, she wonders if she said something wrong — was it taboo, perhaps? To acknowledge their existence but not be able to describe it. Her expression doesn't flicker to anything in particular, but it does... calm down, to a point of neutrality. All that's left is a light curiosity.

— At least, until, her face jumps right to confusion, eyebrows knitting together at cryptic answer, then at the question. While the former she can leave be, for now, the latter definitely requires a response. ]

Entangled with? Do you mean to say ... in love? [ In which case the answer comes easily enough: ] ... No, no one like that.

[ She shakes her head but keeps her smile. It's fine to be wrong and she has enough self-awareness to know that being clear isn't her forte. It's good enough that Lucina has been patient with her so far. ]

Not in love. Someone you love or you hate or you fear.

[ Your greatest enemies become entangled with you too. ]

Oh—! [ The question is still easy, then. Her expression clears up in understanding, and the nod that follows it is confident. ] Yes.

[ Her father, whom she'll travel to the ends of the earth to protect. Grima, who is a source of both hatred and fear for her; no name will bring out a more negative reaction from her. ] To ... all of it, though they aren't the same person.

... I suppose it's more accurate to say I'm entangled with many, then.

That you are.

[ Should that be a sad thing? Or something good? The elders she has met never said anything of the sort and she doesn't hide from Lucina the brief expression that she's at a lost, for a moment, trying to find a way to explain it away. ]

Will you feel sad when the one you hate dies?

[ When. Because everything dies. ]

[ Hatred is a strong emotion — for anyone, but especially for Lucina. She's one who wishes to see the world in a fair, logical perspective, and hatred has no place here. There's dislike, certainly, but... hate is another level entirely.

In this case, Grima's the guy who threatened to destroy her home ( did destroy her home, in some ways ). ] ... I had participated in their death. [ She says, instead. A short, short version of the story. ] It was necessary, for the fate of the world.

... I can't imagine feeling sad for them. [ That's her answer. ]

[ Hate is only the flip side of love and Shuyi vacillates between the two, trying to redeem herself by basing her actions on love when she knows the opposite is true. But then, hate of one thing means love for another.

She frowns for Lucina, jaw set in sadness despite the girl's words. ]

Necessity does not make it easy.

... No, it does not. [ She thinks back to Robin, again, how what she believed to be necessary wasn't the easy route ( or the correct route, for that matter ). ]

But they are the reason I had lost everything I cared for. [ Her parents, her country, her timeline. ] Their death came with the certainty that they would not be lost again.

[ She wonders if a more correct answer would be if her happiness of her world remaining safe outweighed her sadness; but she never felt sad to begin with. ]

[ She is beyond choosing between right and wrong by this point, let alone for another person. Who is she to judge or to advise? The more one learns, the more one realizes how little one knows. How mysterious the world's workings truly are.

Yet again, necessity makes it more difficult than anything. So she steps closer, reaching to take Lucina's hand in both of hers in reassurance. ]

If you hold on too tightly, the loss will be more painful.

[ The inevitable loss. ]

[ Her determination crumbles, just a little. Because she knows it's true, the idea that whatever she holds dear ultimately makes the absence of it that much painful. Her life is the prime example of that — the list of things she misses dearly, of things that she once loved, things she continues to love even now.

Lucina looks down at her hands, then back at Shuyi's eyes. ] I agree.

... But to live without experiencing that pain — would that be living? [ To coast on by without caring. ]

[ The Gahrla would teach her to let go of all her possessions, because what you own, owns you in return. They would tell her that all the terrible things in life: jealousy, grief, war, strife, all of it comes from wanting. But Lucina is also right. What is life if not to always be wanting?

She smiles sadly, apologetic. ]

Stronger hands can hold on despite the pain.

[ Those hands aren't hers. ]

[ Her words are more than enough — a smile for Shuyi appears in return, though this one is more ... grateful. Kind. She doesn't speak of her history to earn pity, but instead because she values honesty. They're a team now, after all — she's not one to keep secrets, not without good reason. ]

I believe they're stronger because they believe whatever comes after the pain is worth it. [ Less the person, but more what the person values to be important. It's a matter of finding something one holds to that much importance. ]

CLOSED. Watching from the edge of the circus

LUCINA.

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