towerofanimus | (no subject)

Characters: Romana and you!
Setting: The library.
Format: Either!
Summary: Romana went back to her own world. And she is a wreck.
Warnings: Tears, possible swearing, possible violence.

[For the few days that she had been back in the tower, Romana had managed to keep it together. Pretending to be find was a skill she had taught herself long ago, and one she used often.

But her scar aches under her clothes.

And she can't stop the images of her Italy in ruins, the once green hills and fields empty wastelands, her beloved Santa Chiara returned to rubble, like it had been after the bombings.

Venice, covered in water, Rome deserted, Vatican City burnt and broken to the ground.

And no where, no where could she find another living soul.

No where could she find her sister.

Finally, one day it gets to her, she can feel herself start to crack. And so she hides, up in a corner of the library, surrounded by photos pulled from her photo album. All of a smiling happy redhead, some with Romana by her side.

And Romana cries, arms wrapped tight around her, her whimpers muffled as she hides behind the stacks, praying that no one will find her in this moment of weakness.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Shoutarou nods at her. "You're welcome," he answers, then turns his attention to the photos of the redhead, noting that Romana's in some of them.

When he speaks again, his voice is calm, quiet, and a bit shaky. "Missing someone?"

Small black stains on the handkerchief Romana finally stops scrubbing at her face, crumpling the cloth up into a little ball in her hand. She'll wash it later, find him somehow and return it.

Somberly she looks down at the photos, studying a face she knows perfectly before she nods. "Si... more like grieving though..."

There's a slow pause as Shoutarou considers her words. So had she bought into what these people had told them? It'd be rude to just blurt out what he thought of their letters, even if she wasn't upset.

Then again, it was possible that it was someone that she had lost before coming here.

"I see... Been there all too recently myself."

"Have you? Have you seen your home destroyed, your capital in ruins? Have you walked and walked, your body screaming at you, to find your sister, only to find her city flooded and destroyed? Have you been unable to feel all those that you called your own, unable to feel your sister, your other half anyway?"

The words burst out of Romana, all her bitterness, anger and guilt exploding out. Shoulders trembling she takes deep shaky breaths, shame at her loss of temper starting to creep into her.

"I... I apologise. That wasn't needed..."

The man moves back just a bit at the outburst, giving the woman her space as she vents. Her choices of words were curious. Perhaps she was another of these nations, given the way she talked about her people.

Once Romana's finished, he pulls his hat off, turning it over in his hands, looking at it. "Don't worry - venting is healthy," he answers quietly. "While I don't have people, I've been separated from the city I love."

A pause, and he speaks again. "I've been unable to feel my other half for a long time, however."

Her arms wrap around herself as Romana look away, still embarrassed. Usually she was so good at controlling herself, not saying what she truly felt. It only gave people an insight to her weaknesses after all. And she couldn't afford that.

Silent, she listens to him speak, glancing over at the last comment. "Venezia... even when we were separated as children... I could still feel her, even if it was just slightly. And now... there's nothing. It's more jarring than not being able to feel my people."

"...does it get easier?"

The hat goes back on his head, and he sighs quietly, staring down at the floor. "It's been a little over...a year now, I think." He wrings his hands a bit.

"Can't say that it's made any significant progress in getting better in this time, but being around others you're close to helps dull things."

Her arms tighten around herself, her eyes squeezing shut as Romana does everything she can to not break down again. Crying in front of strangers once, is one thing, doing it again is another. Voice shaking, all she can first manage is a soft, "I see."

"She... she was the closest person I have... had. We're two halves of one country, that... I don't think I can ever be close to anyone else, not like that. No body gets it, not even Spagna, I think."

Shoutarou moves - going from stooping to sitting, and crossing his legs. On one hand, this was... Oddly amusing in how coincidental it was.

"I believe I understand it to a degree. My partner and I - we were a two-in-one detective. More often figuratively, but there were times where it was literal." By this point, Shoutarou's pulled out a small purple object with a J on it, turning it over in his hands. "Losing that... It's hard to cope with, and even harder to explain to others."

"...how can that be literal?" Frowning Romana shifts, glancing at him. Her eyes move straight to the object, her own half of a shared necklace with Venezia warm under her clothes. "You... you're a human, you cannot literally be two people in one."

"We..." Well. He'd been forthcoming with his identity on the network before, and with others. No reason to hide it now. "We weren't just a two-in-one detective. We were also two halves of a hero, protecting the city we loved." He sighs, then gives an awkward smile. "I can't pretend to know how to explain how it worked on a technical level, but I was the body, he was the soul."

"...Its sounds like something Giappone or America would think up." Snorts softly, shaking her head. Still, there are much crueler things she could have said, the standard, you're crazy, and only the fact that Shoutarou's been so kind to her holds her tongue.

"...Thank you." For listening. For not mocking her. For understanding.

Well, to be fair, it is kind of crazy-sounding. At least he's not the eternally unlucky guy who rides a time-traveling train who lets himself get possessed by demons to fight evil...

Shoutaoru smiles a little, putting the Memory away in his vest, then tugs a bit on the brim of his hat. "You're welcome."

...That sounds even crazier.

She coughs softly, Romana wiping her eyes one last time before starting to stand. "I... should go. I can't just... mope forever... after all."

Kamen Rider does some crazy stuff, man.

Once she starts to stand, Shoutarou follows and dons his hat once more. "It's a balancing act, really. You can't let yourself get consumed by the grief, but you can't forget them, either. That's where a lot of the difficulty lies..."

Of course he does.

She nods, already looking away, retreating behind her walls. "Si... I doubt I'd ever be able to forget her though... it's more the... grief that's terrifying."

Shou reaches over to try and pat her shoulder. "It can be overwhelming, yeah."

She stiffens under the touch, before nodding sharply and pulling away. "I will cope. I will."

Once she pulls away from his hand, it closes, then Shoutarou pulls it back, and puts it in his pocket. He steps around and past her - best to move on before he overstays his welcome. "I wish you luck, then. You'll need it."

She nods as he steps past him, appreciating that he knows when to walk away. "Thank you... Good luck to you, as well."