stormandwind | INBOX: lastvoyages

Shiro's frowning as Tris speaks, but it's not a negative look, just one of concentration. If it isn't about being chosen, being loved--even in the depths of her focus, her misunderstanding, she understands that Tris means the words, that she too is loved, and that warms her to the core--she isn't sure exactly what it is about.

But Tris has a way with words. It's not always a gentle way, but she's so much better at expressing these things than Shiro thinks she'll ever be. It's concise enough that it isn't long before her face is clearing, recognition and understanding dawning in its place. It's about not having to wonder. It's about knowing you're loved in the kind of way where you never even have to think about it, because you couldn't not be. It's the kind of thing people like her and Tris only ever had in breaches. It maybe explains some things about Credence, too, why they keep taking steps forward and back. It's a lot of work to remember people care, sometimes. She knows that.

Biting her lip, Shiro nods slowly. "I know. It's--hard, sometimes. A lot of times. Because it was just how things were, there, and that's not how it's ever been, here. Right? Here, you don't just know, you have to keep remembering." She looks down at her hands, at the book she sets to the side, on the grass. "I'm sorry. That you have to keep paying that, and it's not just easy. It's not fair. But I think--some ways, I think I don't mind that it's hard. That I have to keep remembering that people care now. That someone's going to remember me. Because if it's easy, you forget that it's--precious. It's important. I never forget that it could be different, like it was, so I never forget to say it. Tell people what they mean. Appreciate them being here, with me. You know? Every time people choose, I know they could choose different, and they don't, and that's something special." It doesn't fix it, doesn't change how Tris feels, but maybe it'll mean something to her, too.

Tris leans over to rest her head against Shiro's. "I forgot, back home. My foster siblings and I, we traveled separately for years. When I came home, I'd forgotten how to open up to anyone. I didn't trust them enough to let them in. Sandry and I argued all the time. Daja and I weren't connected. Even Briar, who's always been closest to me... it took us months to recover some semblance of what we used to have. We all kept secrets. Even the people who loved us most didn't feel safe anymore. We finished growing up apart, and we didn't know how to fit back together."

She's changed on the Barge. Tris is more open and trusting right now than she's ever been in her life. She thinks she could let her sisters back in almost effortlessly now, even Sandry.

"I don't want to make that mistake again."

"Sometimes--people grow up different ways. Even if you're together all the time." Shiro leans her head back against Tris, reaches for her hand with a familiarity that comes from memories of a breach where they'd been closer than sisters and the unconscious action of distracted thought. "You grow into different shapes. But it doesn't mean you can't fit back together. It's just going to be a different way. Being here is kind of like...practice, for that, I think. Shows you how to be different, how to come back together. Like breaches and floods, the way we put all the pieces back together, learn different things about who we really are." Her fingers squeeze Tris's gently. "I think you're really brave, too, you know. Saying this stuff out loud. Talking about the things you worry might happen. But I think it's gonna be different, when you go back home."

"How do you explain the Barge, when you go back home?" Tris wonders aloud, squeezing Shiro's hand in thanks for the compliment and the reassurance. "I don't want to keep secrets from them anymore, but this place sounds wildly unbelievable."

Then again, Tris doesn't really have a choice in the matter. "I couldn't keep things from them anyway, of course, unless I closed myself off again. The four of us are tied together in our magic. Unless we put up walls, we can see bits of each other's minds. The way you saw me and Daja doing, when half of our conversation was silent. From my point of view, that hasn't happened yet. I still haven't let her back into my head."

It was nice, actually, seeing that she will. However difficult the topic of conversation.

"I....don't know," Shiro admits. "I, um. I haven't really...thought about it. There's nobody back home I wanna go back and explain it to, you know? Ganta is--he's found good friends. He's getting out. And if I'm not there, if I stay gone forever, Rinichirou won't be able to do any of the stuff he was gonna. So--" A careful shrug of the shoulder that isn't supporting the two of them doesn't signify a lack of caring, just her own ending. "But I guess--all you can do is tell your story, and let them see. Like you said--you can see in each other's heads. They'll be able to see. I'm sure." Tris isn't the kind of person anyone could call a liar. She's always been honest with Shiro. It's something she appreciates a lot.

Tris squeezes Shiro's hand. "Any world you choose instead will be fortunate to have you." Anyone she goes home with. Maybe she'll go back to the world Stan and Ford were from, now that she's taken Stan's surname. Maybe she'll decide on somewhere different.

"My birth family used to tell me I was crazy, and I believed them. I suppose it makes me wary of saying things that might not seem possible. Which isn't fair to the family that adopted me."

Maybe she will. But she thinks, maybe, selfishly, she doesn't want to choose, and maybe won't have to. But this isn't about Shiro, not entirely. It's about Tris, too. She's part of Shiro's decision, after all; one of the people she doesn't want to give up, doesn't want to say goodbye to forever.

"I get that, kinda. I mean--no one ever said that to me. Mostly they didn't say anything, except Sorae and Rinichirou, and Ganta, but--it's hard. When people tell you you're something so hard you believe them. It's easier to be that thing than what you really are. Or who. Even if people tell you you weren't ever that, or that you aren't anymore." She shifts her head slightly, adjusting to lean against Tris. "But you'll tell them, when you figure out how, I think. And they'll believe you."

"Exactly." Shiro understands, Tris knows, or she probably wouldn't have managed to tell her this. There's a certain shape of assumptions attached to anyone who's different. It's part of the reason Tris and Hope always managed to find a connection even when the specifics of their situations differed drastically.

"I'm glad that you've settled into your own skin, Shiro. That you've figured out what that looks and feels like."

"I'm still figuring it out, I think," she says thoughtfully, looking down at their hands. "But--that's okay, too. I'm not always--happy, about the way I look. Like, I'll forget for a little while about the scars and my eyes and my hair, and I'll feel normal. Credence tells me I'm pretty, and I feel pretty, and it's just...I'm just Shiro. And then someone new comes to the boat who stares too long or can't look at all, and it's just--it shouldn't matter. I think I know that. But sometimes it does." And sometimes it sucks.

"That's a familiar feeling," Tris agrees softly, squeezing Shiro's hand. "You're very pretty, and you're a lot of things that are more important besides. Anyone who matters will agree on that. But it still stings when people stare."

"Yeah." It does sting, and there are moments where she wishes again that she looked normal, more like other people, but those moments come less and less these days.

"Helps there's--people I trust, here. To tell me things like that. Like...even if I don't feel pretty, or useful, or anything. I know you're really smart and you don't just say things to say them, so even if I don't feel it, I know I can believe you. You know? Credence, too. Even if--he doesn't say things as much."

Tris is quiet for awhile before she speaks, so that she doesn't have to pause in the middle to grasp for words. Finally, she says quietly but firmly, "You deserve to hear that you're beautiful. And that you're worth loving. Both of those things are true, Shiro. You're also strong, and thoughtful, and good at seeing situations in different ways than most people."

She's as grateful as Shiro for the people she knows will tell her she's worthwhile in every respect. They've been a lot less rare on the Barge than they were in Tris's life before. "Trusting people is hard, but I'm glad you have a few of us that you feel that way about. I'm honored to be one of them."

"You are," she says, affirmation, because some things bear repeating until they're believed. Because some things are true and mean the world. "You're--you were my best friend there, and I think--maybe you are here, too." So of course she'll trust Tris. It's not always easy to trust people, she's right, but it doesn't always have to be hard.

INBOX: lastvoyages

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