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[journaler]

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『 Hey hey hey, iiit's Leia...! Sorry I missed you, but I'm pretty tied up at the moment--probably chasing my next story. Leave me a message and I'll call you back as soon as I can. Thanks! 』 [ beeeep— ]

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[journaler]

[She is sentimental, though she's not entirely sure that's the point here. She nudges him lightly upon noticing that he isn't actually paying any attention.]

It's my favorite! Besides, yooou just risked your hand for that pen, buster.

[After warning her about it, no less.]

[rebelia]

[At the nudge, he looks over at last, shrugging.]

Those fish have been terrorizing the populace long enough. We should show them now and then.

[journaler]

...... Why can't you just say "You're welcome" like a normal person?

[At least he's looking at her now; so Leia meets his eyes. It sounds like a rhetorical question, and yet...]

[rebelia]

[IV smirks, a mirthful breath escaping his nostrils.]

You can't actually be bothered by that? Fine. You're welcome.

[journaler]

[She wasn't, and surprise, the question was kind of rhetorical. Hearing him say it is satisfying nonetheless though, so she meets that smirk with a grin.]

There you go. That wasn't so hard.

[Annnd she'll show mercy and leave it at that.]

What brings you here, anyway?

[rebelia]

[All right, that's enough teasing. IV rolls his head to look up at the calm sky, which otherwise appears so busy everywhere else due to the plethora of technology.]

The quiet. It helps to get away from the noise once in a while.

[journaler]

[Whoops. So much for that, she thinks, but at least she can confidently say that with her, there's never dull moment. There's a light shrug as she laughs sheepishly.]

It is good for that.

Weird stuff starts to happen if you get too far in, but otherwise it's gorgeous.

[rebelia]

"Weird stuff" happens everywhere here. Even our existence is . . .

[He trails off, his expression taking a solemn turn. Their being here is merely the result of fickle fate, which can change at the drop of a hat. Perhaps it's better that way.]

1/2

[journaler]

[Leia's laughter fades quickly, and her expression changes to match. She turns to meet his eyes after he trails off, because... well, that's not exactly the reaction she'd been expecting.

She agrees, of course, that weird things seem to be the norm, but...]

Our existence is... [Is what? She's not entirely sure what he means by that. That it's weird?]

[journaler]

[......Trying to read his mind just isn't working.]

What is it? Is something wrong?

[rebelia]

[It's not stable at all, as far as their stay goes. He huffs and tilts his head back, basking in the light, his posture lax.]

Nothing's wrong. My brother's not here anymore. That's all.

[journaler]

["That's all," he says.

...But now things make a little more sense, and her shoulders slump, because it's possibly the one thing she can't help him with. She learned it first hand.]

I don't know that I'd call it nothing.

Sorry, but I had no idea.

[rebelia]

How could you have? I never said he was around.

[He works at his rolled up sleeve, pulling it down over his dried arm and then working on the bracelet's placement. As far as he's concerned, he's glad he's the only one of the brothers here again.]

He didn't belong here.

[journaler]

[She can definitely feel how glad he is, yes. But even though he never told her his brother was around, she still feels like she somehow should have known.

They're friends, aren't they? Then again, she doesn't have any siblings, so it really never came up, did it...?]

Still, I wish I could have met him.

[rebelia]

[Still adjusting the bracelet, the shrug is evident in his tone. Who knows? He doesn't keep tabs on the people III has met.]

His name is Michael. He has pink hair.

1/2

[journaler]

[Pink. IV's eyes are pink, she thinks idly. It's one of her favorite colors, but she's not sure that matters much now. She feels like she would remember someone with pink hair, but there were so many costumes that day when they were all forced into that photoshoot.

She did see someone though, didn't she?]

Maybe...

[She trails off in thought. But no, she can't know for certain.]

I'm not too sure.

[journaler]

But... why do you say he didn't belong?

[rebelia]

[There aren't that many boys with pink hair, IV thinks. If it's a maybe, they can narrow it down later.

Finished playing with the placement of his sleeve under the bracelet, he drapes his arm over the back of the bench again.]

This isn't a place for someone like him. He has things to do back in Heartland.

[journaler]

... We all had things to do.

[She doesn't want to get homesick. She doesn't want to think about her mom's cooking, about Jolyne and the others at the newspaper, about Elize, Teepo, Alvin... Rowen.

She shakes her head.]

You too, IV. Don't you have more trophies to win, and... and more titles to earn, things like that?

You still made a place for yourself here, and I think that's really great.

[rebelia]

For a while, I thought this was my new place . . . the hell I'd be living in for the rest of my conscious time.

[He gives a breathy, sardonic laugh. To be honest, they all probably have a one-way ticket to Hell: him, III, V. For arguably good intentions, they did terrible things.]

We've all done things. But do I have more to do? . . . I suppose I do.

[journaler]

[It's suddenly hard to look at him, especially when he laughs. He's never heard that before. She doesn't have Athena's special hearing power, but she's certain that everything he's saying sounds bitter and pained.

"Hell" ... she wonders if it's really so bad here.]

I know you do. And those are all reasons to keep going, so... don't talk like Michael's the only one.

[With a little more confidence at that being said, she turns to face him again with determination.]

No matter where you guys are, you have purpose.

[rebelia]

Michael's different.

[Probably. He rolls his head the other way to look Leia in the eye. What's coming out his mouth is dramatic, but the delivery is entirely casual; he's long resigned himself to this way of thinking.]

And I know I have a purpose. You don't have to remind me.

[journaler]

That's funny. It feels like I do.

[Her tone is entirely casual as well. Gentle, and not argumentative--though it could be interpreted that way for obvious reasons.

So what if Michael's different? That's how it should be. They still deserved to stay together, and she can't blame him for being upset.]

[rebelia]

I was already reminded once.

[All this reminding, and he's going to start perceiving it as nagging. He's always been good about knowing and clinging to his purpose. That's one thing he's stubborn about and can do.

He pauses, thinking.]

It's not that I ever gave up.

[journaler]

[The point of reminders is that it's something easily forgotten. There's nothing wrong with hearing it more than once, but she's not going to push the issue.]

Then what was it?

[What happened to you...?]