“No one’s ever built me a shrine before…” / idek but i too enjoy this
MORE AND MORE, the being that she has come to know as Tifa has begun to interact with her everyday life. It is almost strange, to have to disguise the way has now begun speaking to the woman, to have this knowledge that she does not understand. But more && more, she finds what look like diamonds woven into the manifestations hair. If she squints, && tries her hardest, she could even trick herself into believing that she could find a galaxy in her gaze, constellations in her smile.
She understands this: Tifa is not real, not in the way that she herself is. Was not born into the world, touched by the light of the ever setting sun. It is not because of the fact that Tifa had tried, in her own... unique way to explain it to her. Word of mouth could not be trusted, especially of someone whose first meeting had involved the taste test of ice-cream. No. Fuu uses her eyes, her senses, && her gut instinct. Notices, the way that no matter how bright the glow of Tifa becomes, eyes will always slip past her. How, no matter how excitable the being got, no matter how far she sunk into the sea of her emotions---none would hear, would see.
It makes her question then: why could she?
There are no answers for her. Not from Tifa, either, whose mind whirls with possibilities, but no solid evidence. But. But. More so than her genuine surprise at meeting a being of ‘light’ (whatever that was supposed to mean), more so than being able to observe the truthfulness of her words, more so than being able to enjoy the company of someone patient, who listened when she spoke && cared for her opinion-- -
She questions this, more, STRONGER: why does she stay? Why does she actually want her to stay? Answer: inconclusive. The precious feeling of warmth that wells up in her chest at Tifa’s company... her only viable action, at this point, is to ignore it. Better to not dwell on it, to enjoy the presence of the being while she stayed. Better to not get attached. Just, believe.
The structure in front of her, she thinks, could barely be named a shrine. A small thing, made mostly of the cleaned ice-cream sticks they had consumed numerous as they were, tied together by ribbons && a hair-tie she had carried. Something her hands had idly built, thinking about the other. She tenses at the words that carry over from said other, not looking up to reply for a breath. Thinks hard on the words she wants to say, the emotions she felt. Softly, a murmuring of her lips, she finally replies, barely loud enough to be heard, “...you deserved one.” && then, silence.
⇢ ❝ gods && deities … // accepting. // @meteofists.
