[He'd been strong. Kino had seen him go through a lot. When they had barely emerged from the jekhe forest, blood swimming with venom that made their head spin, hands shake, stomach churn—everything had been going wrong and they might've fallen unconscious (or worse) had Nic not showed up to help. Even as he did that, bleeding and facing the effects of the venom himself. And then he'd carried Kino on his back while wheeling Hermes along towards the shore to find others from their group.
Kino thinks of that as they watch Nic's still body. That, and the very hazy memories they have of when they were dreadfully ill aboard the Neheda—one of the few that had gotten only sicker with the first "cure," a small kid hidden in a corner of the infirmary who probably would've been one of the last to get the second cure had Nic not noticed and picked them up, gotten someone's attention.
They couldn't allow themself to rely on him anymore. He's gone. He's dead. He's never coming back.
Kino doesn't want to come back either.
For right now, in the face of it, Kino is still. They always are—slow to process, wheels turning gradually. Hinata might be restless, an object in motion staying in motion, but Kino was building up potential energy.
It would start to burn soon. Kino wanted to leave. It's how they grieved. Some might call it cowardly, cruel, unworthy of others, but it's their natural response. When something dug too deep, clawed too close, Kino turned and walked away. Found a new country to visit. Found new people to entertain briefly before moving on once more.
They couldn't do that here. Trapped. Trapped with memories that wouldn't disappear with time because they would be reminded of the empty space a person might've occupied had they not—
Kino turns the pen over in their hand.]
I'm... not sure. An injection. [There was a lot Kino didn't know or understand about Nic Brown, but it hadn't seemed to matter. Now...] He gave it to me a while ago. Said... I'd know when to use it.
[Kino's brow knits close together for a moment, then calm. Nothing.] It didn't help him.
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Kino thinks of that as they watch Nic's still body. That, and the very hazy memories they have of when they were dreadfully ill aboard the Neheda—one of the few that had gotten only sicker with the first "cure," a small kid hidden in a corner of the infirmary who probably would've been one of the last to get the second cure had Nic not noticed and picked them up, gotten someone's attention.
They couldn't allow themself to rely on him anymore. He's gone. He's dead. He's never coming back.
Kino doesn't want to come back either.
For right now, in the face of it, Kino is still. They always are—slow to process, wheels turning gradually. Hinata might be restless, an object in motion staying in motion, but Kino was building up potential energy.
It would start to burn soon. Kino wanted to leave. It's how they grieved. Some might call it cowardly, cruel, unworthy of others, but it's their natural response. When something dug too deep, clawed too close, Kino turned and walked away. Found a new country to visit. Found new people to entertain briefly before moving on once more.
They couldn't do that here. Trapped. Trapped with memories that wouldn't disappear with time because they would be reminded of the empty space a person might've occupied had they not—
Kino turns the pen over in their hand.]
I'm... not sure. An injection. [There was a lot Kino didn't know or understand about Nic Brown, but it hadn't seemed to matter. Now...] He gave it to me a while ago. Said... I'd know when to use it.
[Kino's brow knits close together for a moment, then calm. Nothing.] It didn't help him.