saudade; raiden ei

xʟᴠɪɪ. burial

"Miko." The purple-eyed woman said, cold gaze narrowed and legs folded over each other. "Whatever are you suggesting?"

The fox envoy spoke back with a fragile grin. Though she was the only being the Electro Archon would still willingly talk with, she was uncertain how to act around her newfound confidence. Ironically, their roles had reversed, at least temporarily. "Well, if you're this desper- ahem, if she genuinely means this much to you, then it's certainly not impossible to convince her to return."

The woman considered her words. Her familiar was knowledgeable, and she also knew Y/n. "And you? You truly believe this?"

Miko nodded. "Positive. She assumes your relationship was a lie, Ei. She doesn't trust you anymore, so she won't be back unless you win her over."

She brushed loose purple strands over her shoulder, then stared down and to the side, thinking. It was both sad and unfair, the fox envoy thought, how pain made her friend even more beautiful. "I see. Then, perhaps I'll write to her."

"Ah... I should warn you, there's no guarantee she'll open it."

"She doesn't need to," the Archon responded. "But it will be there when she's prepared to listen. It was weak of me to force affection upon her in the past; if I did so now, I would be no better."

✧:･ﾟﾟ･

Y/n was in a state of shock.

Defined knuckles tightened around the innocent-looking envelope, turning a new colour altogether. Much like when she arrived at the estate, her expression was blank as a wall, a canvas for nothingness.

Then, emotion seeped through, and she couldn't fully tell which to focus on. It was obvious who the sender was; everything from the purple trims to the fancy writing screamed it was a product of her doing. Y/n narrowed her eyes, unable to understand what she was thinking. Still, she remained unwilling to open it, feeling too consumed with anger and hurt... or was it bitter satisfaction?

She couldn't tell, and in a fit of rejection, she tucked the unopened letter away with the discarded necklace. Upset, she tried to flee her room but found her puppet in her path. Mini's master eyed it slowly and dangerously, awakening a flinch.

"Move." She finally snapped. It was the first word she'd said to her beloved puppet in days, yet she lashed at it and made the moment sour. Her face was twisted in a gnarly scowl. "And stop following me."

She stormed back into the corridor and past the Kamisato siblings again, only now they were silent with her distress. As an afterthought, they watched as she returned to grab the Mini Shogun and finally withdrew from their home. She found a set location: not too close, not too far, and began to dig.

When she stopped, she had a hole, and she dropped her protesting puppet inside before sealing it back up with dirt and the knowledge that it would survive: it wasn't human.

The soldier's knees and nails were dark with grime, but she hardly cared. She breathed heavily and raised her eyes to the sky, liberated. Those purple eyes reminded her too much of hers; she had removed the ghost living in her shadow and opened the path to new beginnings.

If only that path could be without the fickle pressure of guilt.

A familiar voice called to her, and she opened her eyes again, casting them down at Kazuha. He watched the soldier amusedly from the trees, his smile wide with bewilderment. "Y/n? Whatever are you doing?"

No matter, guilt would fade with time.

"Burying my puppet," she sweetly soothed, aware she looked like a lunatic.