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Himiko sits and waits, kicking her legs and looking behind her every now and then.
There was a time when she could walk along that pretty path, reach out to touch the grass and leaves and pet all the cute little animals, but now she can’t get any closer than this.
The gate she sits on is ancient, so ruined she’s surprised it can even take her weight, but it’s still strong enough for her to feel the holy energy pushing her away, to have to sit with her back to it.
The spot where her wings used to be stings and pulses, but she’s used to it by now. Years of phantom aches have left her sensitive, but it’s proven to be useful countless of times. It keeps her alert – a physical reminder that she shouldn’t be here, that she can’t allow herself to let her guard down even when her surroundings look so pure and peaceful.
Some days, like today, it hurts a little less. It’s a dull pain more than anything, and Himiko doesn’t mind it, because it means that she’s close, and that matters more than any other sensation.
It’s been a while, but they’re finally close again.
Himiko sits and waits.
Earth is not as cold as Heaven or Hell, but Himiko is grateful for the coat she found. It’s a windy day, some storm probably approaching in the distance, and while Ochako never makes her wait for too long, she’s been a little busier, lately.
Himiko doesn’t mind waiting.
She hums her current favorite song to herself – some old tune from back then, when there were singers and dancers and radios weren’t hard to find – while her pointy tail carves a little heart in the enchanted wood. It reminds her of when she was a young, naïve little human, bored by her mean teacher’s monologues, sad about something now inconsequential.
Himiko feels Ochako before she sees her – warm and loving and strong, with that angelic pull Himiko should be immune to now, and yet…
Himiko turns, leaning against the invisible barrier, the sting of it unnoticed as she looks at Ochako flying towards her, wings snug against her robe. That alone is proof of the pureness and lightness of her spirit, but Himiko gets mesmerized by less.
Ochako is everything Himiko was told to be, everything she tried so hard to be and failed – failed so hard it got her banished – and it probably shouldn’t feel good to reach out, to touch Ochako’s warm skin, to hold her close with an arm around her waist. It shouldn’t feel good now but it does, because even if Himiko lost everything, she still has Ochako. She has Ochako’s pink cheeks to kiss, Ochako’s halo to light up said pink cheeks and make them look even pinker, and Ochako’s pretty wings to hide in, to keep herself warm.
They greet each other with a kiss and sit together in silence. It’s peaceful, just the two of them at the edge of a now mostly forgotten church. It’s where they shared their last kiss before Himiko was forced to fall, where they’ve been meeting since Himiko stopped being able to sneak in Ochako’s room – the biggest change they had to adapt to, Himiko always jokes. It’s bittersweet, but anywhere else is too dangerous. This place is as safe as it can be, and that’s more than enough.
Ochako talks about her friends. Himiko talks about hers. They get to pretend to be other people, just for a little bit, but it’s short-lived, because Ochako eventually sighs.
“They’ll send me out soon, I think,” she says.
Himiko’s heart squeezes, feeling a bit of everything at once.
Out is extremely unsafe, all battle zones are, and while Himiko knows Ochako can take care of herself, she can’t help but worry.
Plus, the chances of them meeting will be too high for her taste.
Himiko has been assigned far too many extra tasks she doesn’t really care about lately. She’s heard the rumors about a war – fearful whispers, cocky promises, and all that.
What will they do when they inevitably end up facing each other? Who will be the first to betray her own side?
Himiko has done it once already, and if she did it again, she’d have nowhere else to go. But she doesn’t have to think about it to know she’d do it, for Ochako, no matter how close she’s grown to her new friends. Knowing they’d try to kill her for it hurts, that they’d probably reject her too, for not being right, for not being enough – it stings in a way she thought she forgot – but she’d still do it.
Their new, pretty bird friend informed Himiko about the watchful eyes on Ochako. She’s on the radar because of her association with Himiko, with her rotten magic. Angelic judgement is even harsher – Himiko knows they wouldn’t be kind enough to kill her.
Ochako grabs her hand, squeezing it gently.
“Hey. We'll be okay.”
Himiko knows angels can’t lie, but she still doubts the words. She clearly never had enough faith to be an angel.
Himiko thinks it, she thinks about it, but she doesn’t ask Ochako to run away together. She doesn’t ask for her to fall. It’s not on her to pressure her like that, and it wouldn’t be a viable solution, anyway.
Ochako wasn’t born to run, like Himiko. She was born to fly, to be free in a way Himiko can only ever feel when they’re together – and that’s why she could never ask that of Ochako. It wouldn’t be fair.
They don’t talk about it further. They both don’t know what to say. There’s not much to say, anyway. Ochako would rather bask in Himiko’s presence than have uncomfortable conversations, and Himiko is nothing but a follower before her.
They say goodbye with another kiss.
Then before leaving, Himiko sees a feather. It’s clearly Ochako’s, perfectly white with the faintest pink hues when you turn it just so under direct sunlight. Himiko spots the foreign dark streaks easily, the sight familiar enough to make her freeze.
Ochako’s disappeared into the holy woods already.
Himiko doesn’t know if it’s a coincidence – just pure chance – or if Ochako left the feather there to leave her a secret message.
Ochako knowing or Ochako not knowing – Himiko doesn’t know what she fears most, but what she does know is that she’ll be back here soon, sitting and kicking her legs and waiting for that warmth to envelop her again, no matter how scared she is.