I couldn’t help but stiffen up when she mentioned her time as a… a wraith, she called it. And I felt supremely ashamed of myself, shocked that I’d never once considered that she knew was she was doing, and remembered it, too. She remembered the words she spewed like I remember the lightning blasting from my horn. Things that were unleashed from ourselves that we had no control over; things we both wanted to take back with every fiber of our being.

“Oh, Ji…” I murmured, devastated. My muzzle came closer to her neck; I nipped at the golden tips of her locks, fumbling for a way to comfort her, to let her know that what she said resonated within me in a way that shook me to my very core. That was the moment I could finally let go of the horrid transgression of the scar I left on her body—because she knew the kind of scar she left of my soul, and grieved over it with the same intensity.

I wanted to pull her out of the pit she was in; this vortex that I knew all too well, but hated the idea of anyone else sharing in the blackness with me. I snorted a little and tensed even further when she mentioned a son (--who the fuck been touchin’ my Jiji--) at least, until, she clarified that she had adopted him, saving him from wandering the edge of the ocean amongst shitty sand, and I listened to the way she fret over this boy that she didn’t bear, listening to the way her heartstrings pulled for a boy who hurt to just walk. My lips reached for those gold strands again. (Gold accent, gold trim, and the heart of it).

Then…finally. We came to…we came to Hototo. Something that mutually shattered us, crushed us under a metric ton of cruel fate. Something that ate at me from the inside and ate at her from the out.

*"And I've missed you."*

“Missed you too, baby,” I blurted without thinking of what I was saying, or what it meant, or…whatever. Because I was sick of that with Jiji. I missed speaking my mind whenever I needed and hearing her words when she needed to spew ‘em. Because—once upon a time, in a land far, far away, like the past—she was my best friend, and I was hers.

*"Where have you been? What have you been doing?"*

I sighed, deeply. I would have pulled away from her if her warmth wasn’t doing something to me. “I’ve been everywhere,” I said wearily—stumbling only briefly on the shit I didn’t want to admit to. “I’ve been...failing. Everyone.”

I took a breath, irritated at how shaky it was going in. “It…I’ve been…I’ve seen so much death,” I shook my head, “I’ve let so many down. If I…if I could have just found the killer or if I….if I had told my Pa that…” Told him what? Told him how the Moon had slipped from some bro who had been damn-near a corpse himself when he died? But I had thought he already knew--

“I’m sorry,” I said suddenly, because those tears had been shed in a snow-white mane, and I didn’t want to dissolve again. Not when strength was needed. “I…I’m sorry I been in your life lately.” I paused, the taste of gold on my tongue, her scent laced and stamped all around me in a way that was hard to ignore. “Tell me…where you live now,” I said gently, trying to find some ground for us to stand on again, “Tell me so I can come visit sometime.”