Week 3, Sunday Post-Execution - Sanji

[fragileprophet]

[Well, at least Ion is roughly taking his own advice. He hasn't stopped breathing, yet. But it feels like everything else in the world has stopped. Once the execution dispersed and Ion had nobody else left to comfort, the energy drained out of him like a faucet left abandoned. He probably would have collapsed right in the foyer, but willpower alone kept his feet moving. The wise choice might have been to head back to his room, but after the weekend, after what just happened, he needs a break from babysitting Natsuo. It's not that it bothers him to do it, but he knows he won't be any comfort to anyone for awhile.

Ion ends up in the music room. Usually, he takes a seat at the full-scale harp, but instead he finds himself cradling a handheld-sized version in his lap, huddled against corner in the back. He's not even making music, just softly plucking the same sad cord as he stares off into nothing, head lulled against the cool stone.]

Comments

[concasse]

[This is not how Sanji expected his first experience hearing Ion's harp to go. Just like the other, he's been running on willpower and bullheadedness, but it's more a chore to maintain when there's no one else to look after.

-- Except for one more person on Sanji's list, that sends him hunting all over the castle, until he hears the soft pluck of a harp's string through a cracked door.]

... Ion? [Calling out first, and then glancing steadily to make sure it's his Ion before he slips through the door, closing it behind him. Then a pause, already searching for something to say.

He gives up halfway instead, shoving his hands into his pockets and making his way over, taking a seat next to him on the floor.]

[fragileprophet]

[It takes him a moment for his brain to catch up with him. He hears Sanji, sees Sanji, but it's like he can't find anything in him even to respond with a simple "yes, it's me". Again, like always, he wants to apologize. But why, he doesn't know, exactly. Because he didn't respond? Because he was supposed to show Sanji to a nice concert, and this absolutely isn't it? Because everyone had to experience all of that? Because he feels so upset about something that ultimately has nothing to do with him? Because there's just nothing else left?

Ion pushes the apology away, recognizing it for the worthless, empty words that it is. But still, what does that leave? After another moment, he presses his palm to the harp's strings, enveloping them both in still silence. Ion sighs.]

I really thought...she'd be okay.

[Every death hurts, but Rapunzel...Rapunzel.]

[concasse]

[They could've sat in silence and Sanji would not have complained. His determination wouldn't allow anything less than a checkup, but upon sitting down, Sanji stares into the floor and finds he barely has any words to offer.]

... I did too.

[Too tired to hide the worn expression on his face, Sanji brings up his knees and rests his arms on top of them.]

Last night she and I made a burger for Yasusada, and I-- even though I knew it was a possibility, I didn't say goodbye.

[fragileprophet]

She was there for me last week when I didn't know if I'd have a partner waiting for me...so when I visited her last night all I could think was that she'd be saved, of course she would.

[It feels almost selfish to admit that much. He wouldn't have wished for any of the other partnerless to die, either. But that's not a reality he has to imagine. There is no winning, here. It just feels...wrong.]

She was so nice to me...she was nice to me from the very first day. She cut my hair for me, and told me that I...

[His voice breaks, so he has to stop himself for another moment.]

...that I could be whoever I wanted.

[concasse]

... Yeah, sounds like her.

[Resting his chin against his knees now, and his voice drifts on as he speaks, filling the room like he's giving a eulogy.]

During that first week, I'd suspected her ability, but even when I was wrong she didn't get angry -- heh, just said she was gonna prove to me that she would never kill anyone, and that she was going to work hard to get everyone out.

[A pause to swallow the thick lump in his throat.]

... She'd disagree with me, but... after all this shit, it's like we didn't deserve her.

[fragileprophet]

[Ion's mouth twists into a grimace. He feels like his stomach is pressing inward onto itself. He has to take a breath.]

I agree.

[It really does feel like that, like they didn't deserve her. Like they were so blind to how kind and careful and considerate she's been. How could they have just let her die like that? How could they have voted for someone so innocent? How could anyone have voted without considering her ties to the condemned party?]

For all the things she said to me about...freedom, and my own future, and how she believed in me...I never did. I just smiled and thanked her and let her come up with new names because I thought it would distance her from what the reality of it all is.

[But now...]

She was the one who escaped a life of captivity. She's the one who had a future. I should have been...I should have...

[He doesn't know what he could have done, but it feels so wrong. Every conversation they had...he should have been the one making sure she got home safely to Eugene, to her family, instead of her banking on something he didn't ever have. And having let all of that get in between them, it was a real waste, in the end, wasn't it?]

[concasse]

... Oi now. Don't get me wrong, I don't think you should be blaming yourself personally. Somehow I doubt you voted her partner into the hot seat.

[Maybe it seems like a contradiction to his previous claim, but Sanji glances at Ion from the corner of his eyes without looking directly at him for now, a soft frown playing on his face.

It sounds too much like Ion is wishing the two of them had traded places -- that Rapunzel had "deserved" to live where he had not. It should be no surprise Sanji isn't going to let this stand without challenge.]

We made assumptions and fucked up, but life's precious no matter how you slice it. [A pause. He looks at his fingers, flexing them] ... There's no way a girl like her would've accepted anyone dying in her place, anyway.