Free Soul | Natasha Romanoff

Chapter 10: conflicts and truths to the blue light

After her confrontation with Loki, Hyunjae leaned her back against the hallway's wall next to the door leading to the cage. Her deep brown eyes looked here and there on the floor, recollecting all of her scattered thoughts and the new acquired informations, before she settled back and let out a sigh heavy of frustration. No one was around but the gentle silence she so appreciated. 

She clenched her fists tight with her lips pinched, despising how much effect this mere conversation had on her in the end. Not only didn't she pick any clue as to where her dear friend was, but this godforsaken god of mischief managed to mess up with her disorganized mind even more: reinforcing her mistrust in people and herself, and the sheer terror of what resided in her. 

Power? The power to make the Universe kneel before her? 

Bullshit. 

Hyunjae never asked and still wasn't asking to hold the body of something she could not fathom; all her heart had always craved for was to cradle the infant of peace, closer to her chest and closer to where she needed to mend. But no. Over her sleeves, right in between her arms, was the corpse of her, the child who had lost the fight against the murderous nightmares. 

Now, she was the product of her nightmares, a product able to make the Universe fall to its feet. And she felt deep resentment towards Loki for having woken up the fear of herself she had attempted to erase. But no! She wasn't a product— she refused to be considered as such. She was only someone resisting those thoughts. But, god was it hard to face them all alone. 

They might win then, they might drown her to the point of no return. So, maybe she was just... 

"Hey, how was it?" 

Oh. No, no. She wouldn't drown. She wasn't alone. When Hyunjae snapped her eyes up, it was when she understood. Because Natasha was right beside her. 

"Be careful."

Her words were breathed out sheepish and avoidant, but her actions were all of the most sincere proofs. Hyunjae softly grabbed Natasha's wrist, carefully slipping her hand into hers, and gave it the gentlest of squeeze— almost scared, perhaps too shy to try more—, just like how she had taught her physical touch didn't mean harm everytime. Sometimes, it meant a nice feeling. 

Natasha softly smiled, "I will." And she pulled Hyunjae in for an embrace, and god only knew how much she needed one at that moment. The redhead got used to the sudden stiffness under her fingers, but also got used to the melting sensation in her arms. Hyunjae had come to trust her touch throughout the years, putting her defenses down for just a few seconds. 

"He's gonna try to mess with your mind." Hyunjae spoke lower into her shoulder, draping her arms tighter around her body. The Russian hummed as an answer. 

Hyunjae didn't let go yet when they separated. Her fingers were still securely wrapped around Natasha's hand as her eyes were juggling between the windows of her soul. She was battling her own mind, her own voice and her own stupid wishes, so much so a sudden slight blush tainted her pale skin, feeling the heat swarming her ears as a rush of embarrassment washed over.

Her gaze went to hide from Natasha's green clarity, and in a self-aware tone, she mumbled timidly: "Come back quick."

Her expression was emotionless, albeit the words appeared to be loaded with strong unspoken feelings. Natasha was once more surprised by her unpredictability: Hyunjae was usually so stoic and so unresponsive till feeling like conversing with a robot, she had forgotten this more sensitive and thoughtful side to her individuality. It was rare, to be shown a glimpse of it. 

Because, beneath the mask always hides the Shadow the Persona tries to cover. This is what society thinks being strong is: accept everything thrown at you, don't think about complaining, don't crumble a single time, or this is you being weak. It is cruel, to blame our shadow for the unavoidable fall. But Hyunjae had been taught so— in the village, during HYDRA, as a runaway.