Zèklè

And yet somehow, bewilderingly, against all odds, she still wasn't mad. It was as though all his mistakes were nothing, all his shortcomings just raindrops evaporating in the sun- and it was confusing, and relieving, and the boy felt a sort of hope welling within his breast, a renewed warmth at the idea that, ok, maybe he wasn't so awful after all. Maybe he could forgive him, even though he'd been terrible.

And the idea meant the world to him, because it meant that maybe even though Ma had left him, it really wasn't his fault.

(One day, further down the line, he might recognize the hypocrisy of this train of thought- that he shouldn't be deserving of her forgiveness, when he would have forgiven her (and which her are we talking about? Själ? Ampere?) nearly any trespass, without a moment's thought.

Or maybe he wouldn't. Emotions are weird that way.)

I was you- "I know," he whispers, and the sadness in his voice was for both of them, for all the children of this world who had ever been left behind. His thoughts went to Isopia, who had also lost her mother- were mothers simply categorically neglectful, and he'd just failed to notice up til now? Unconsciously he leaned into her embrace (which he did feel, despite the metal growth), his shoulder eager for her soft touch - as fleeting as it may have been. "Ma's are awful. But... I jus' want her to come home."

He didn't notice the way she trailed off, the effect his simple statement had left upon his friend. A little of Zero's cheer was returning, a little of the moroseness fading away- it felt good to finally talk to someone, to confess the worry which had plagued him for so long. And it felt good to be forgiven, even if she hadn't really been angry with him at all. She called him her badass, and the boy's heart jumped, a flicker of a smile reaching his eyes. Almost shyly he looked at her, the faintest outline of a grin - a real one, this time - pulling cautiously at his mouth. He was too distracted to notice the word - love - but he'd certainly think about it later, about what it meant and what it could mean and what he might want it to mean, one day. But right now he was content to simply take it at face value, because he did love her, just as much as he loved his Ma and sisters and Mesec and Iso- deeply, loyally, and without a shadow of hesitation or doubt.

He loved her because she made him smile, and he wanted to do the same for her.

"Thanks, Själ," the boy said shyly, reaching out to brush his nose against her neck. "You're not gonna lose me, not ever; even if I have to go away I'll never forget about you, an' I'll always come back, 'kay? I promise," he finished fiercely, earnestly, the passion of his parentage and the honest sincerity of his nature ringing clearly in the boy's stallion's voice.