The Restoration Protocol

44 || a rose by any other name

"Your purpose is to be Alias!"

"And what does that mean??"

"Whatever you want!!!"

It caused a chain effect in Mariko, too. Both witnessing and hearing that sudden build of intense emotions in Alias, she felt the same amplified in her throat which has yet to heal from her screaming at Sebastian not long ago. Her voice breaks. She bites her tongue after the words escape, and for a second, she swears it drew blood. She hates yelling. She's always, always hated yelling. But if someone is speaking loudly to you, sometimes there's no other way to be heard.

Alias heard her, alright. With every fiber of her being. As if every other sense turned off, just to allow her ears to be heightened for that brief period. Her own voice fails her. Shame settles in the silence, long enough for Mariko to collect herself again.

"Machine or not, purpose or not, it doesn't matter....you're Alias. What Claude said you're supposed to be doesn't matter. None of it matters. Soleil was just a name we called you." Though it causes a twinge in her heart, Mariko urges herself to look into Alias's eyes as she speaks. "It's a pretty name, but so is Alias. Because it's yours. You've always been Alias. That's your name. And I like your name, so...it's fine, isn't it?"

Alias's footsteps are inaudible on the plush carpet floor. Although with how slow and careful she moves, they may have been silent even on hard tiles. As though all of a sudden, she's afraid she would scare the young girl away like a little animal. But of course, Mariko doesn't shy away. She knows better than to think Alias would ever dream of hurting her. She held her hand all the way to Hollowmire, then to the Atadon Crater, through the streets of dormant Wynsmith. Synthetic skin or not, Alias's hands have always felt warm to her.

Mariko holds out her own hand — still scarred from the airship incident, and her bandages have fallen some time since then. This is a virtual reality, so in a sense, she supposes her skin is synthetic as well. She's no different than the android standing right in front of her. Her body is an avatar.

It takes time. But Alias accepts the hand outstretched to her. Mariko pulls at her gently to sit on the floor with her. She doesn't want to admit it, but her legs are rather tired, and this backpack is beginning to hurt her shoulders, too. Not to mention the carpet is quite soft and comfortable. With no conceivable way out of the lab now, they finally have a moment to sit and breathe.

Maybe that's hopeless thinking. Maybe Mariko just wants an excuse to stop moving...for a little.

"It's no different than back then...is it?"

"Hm?" Mariko raises her brows in confusion, somewhat caught off guard that Alias opened her mouth. She lifts her drooping head a little. "Like...when?"

"At the Marble Dome. When I was frightened and ran backstage." Alias squeezes her hand briefly. "I would have been hopeless...if you hadn't been there. I remember the way your hand felt then, too. Just like this. You're always there to save me. Even though all this time, you've been carrying your own burdens silently on your shoulders..."

She hangs her head, gaze dropping to rest upon Mariko's scarred hand. The burn mark on her wrist is visible, too, even if just barely. Alias had watched the scene between her and Sebastian unfold at the castle in Hollowmire. She wasn't ignorant to the deeper meaning behind their conversation — at least, she's smart enough to draw a certain connection. One she finally finds the courage to voice.