mvt. 2: sotto voce [CLOSED]
She wakes with a gasp, and wishes she could be surprised.
Four nights of bad dreams, now, and Nami’s illusion - her ability to fool herself - is wearing thin. The one from which she’s just awoken hit her particularly hard: the image of the children gathered round the fire had been chilling enough, but the feeling of her breath being snatched from her lungs as a deep wound opened her torso out of nowhere... she touches her stomach, gingerly, afraid of what she’ll find.
Nothing. Of course. She lets out the breath she’s been holding, letting her hand fall back to her side, and lies for several moments in silence. Just a dream.
But it wasn’t just a dream. She’s not that stupid.
She doesn’t need to look to know Nagi is awake in the bed next to hers, chewing over what they’ve just seen, even though it feels strange to wake up at the same time after a lifetime of pre-empting him. Things have been... a little strained between them since their inauguration to Hope’s Peak: Nagi, ever the conspiracy theorist, had leaned into the kidnapping theory with open arms, while she had done her best to pretend nothing was wrong. They had spoken very little, and when they had she’d felt he was always tiptoeing around her, trying not to upset her, when all he wanted to talk about was what are we going to do.
Reaching up to run her fingers across the node, she decides she can’t stick her head in the sand any more.
“Okay,” Nami says finally, quietly, her eyes fixed to a point on the ceiling. “I’m ready to hear the worst now. No detail to be spared, please. L’amener sur.”
