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Nya’s hair is long. Not like waist-length long, but longer than it’s been in a while. Instead of hanging just below her chin, it now hovered slightly above her shoulders. She’d preferred to keep it short when in the blacksmith shop, since the constant heat of forging would become a lot. Even after moving out of the blacksmith shop, she still kept it short, trimming even the slightest sign of growth. Now, with how busy everything had been, she’d lost track of how much it’d grown. Not like she even had the energy to cut it. It didn’t matter. She was fine. She was fine having long hair, and she was fine carrying the memories tangled amongst her roots.
Nya laid on her bed, staring at the ceiling lit by the gentle blue of midnight. The empty ceiling. The ceiling that simultaneously served as the floor of the room above her. The floor of the room where the worst moment of her life occurred. Except it hadn’t. At least, not anymore. Why was she so affected by it? By what never happened? She remembered, but that didn’t mean it happened, right? No one would believe her if she opened up, so what did it matter? Everyone had more important things to do, no one would give her the time of day, and she didn’t want anyone to drop everything to listen to her cry over a memory. At this point, she just wanted to forget it ever happened, because it didn’t.
Except it did.
No matter how many times she’d change the subject when her mind forced her to remember, no matter how many nightmares she snapped herself out of, no matter how much time she tried to spend away from the temple, she always remembered. It did happen. It was still happening in her mind. Every glance, every breath, every touch, even the slightest brushing of shoulders, brought her back to that moment. Him hovering above her. His calloused hands reaching for her shoulders, reaching for her waist, reaching for anything, everything, all of her and more, all because she looked like a lost corpse.
She was snapped out of the recollection when the creak of her door revealed Jay waiting for permission to enter. She sat up, her nonverbal “yes” to his nonverbal ask. He made his way over to her and sat down on the bed beside her. He didn’t move, only waited for her. She rested her head on his shoulder, winding her fingers with his.
“It’s… been a while since we’ve been here.” Jay said, trying to break the awkwardness.
“Maybe that’s a good thing. A sign that we can forget.”
“I wish it were that easy.” Jay mumbled.
“Why wouldn’t it be? Why is it so hard to forget something that never happened? Hell, why do we even remember to begin with?”
“I- don’t know. If I knew then, I would’ve wi-“ he cut himself off. Despite weeks having passed, the w word still sent a chill down their spines, scared that even the slightest whisper would summon that orange puff of smoke. “I thought we’d forget, along with everyone else.”
“But we didn’t.” There was silence after that. Again.
“Your… hair’s getting longer. A bit, at least.” Jay mentioned, trying to lift her spirits by changing the subject.
“I just haven’t had the energy to trim it. There’s no point anyway. Someone’s just gonna come along and make the decision for me.”
“Nya, that’s not true-”
“Yes, it is! If someone can decide to-“ she choked on her own words, the memories flooding her mind again. His rough hands grasping her waist, calloused from clinging to that blade. She pulled away from Jay, curling up into a ball as she relived every second of everything that happened when she was trapped with him. Every glance like knives, every breath like poison, every touch turned into a scar. Scars that were no longer there, scars that were never inflicted in the first place. Scars that only remained in her mind.
“Nya.” Jay said softly, but noticeable enough the snap her out of it. He was holding out his hand again. She hesitated, before setting her palm in his. Jay’s hands were calloused, but not in the same way as his. Worn down from training to defend others, not forced conquest. Calloused in just the right way that let Nya know that he was here, and he was real. Jay’s touch was caring, welcoming, and the exact opposite of his. “I can only imagine what you went through then, and what you’re going through now. But I can also be there for you to get through it. Just say a word, or don’t, and I’ll be there, or give you space. Whatever it is you need, I’ll be there.” He didn’t pry after that, only let her exist in the comfort of his palm.
“I think… I think I’m gonna let it grow out.” Nya said softly.
“Is that what you want?” Jay asked.
“I… yes. I want to choose my own path in life, so why not start now?”
“I’ll be here every step of the way.”
“You promise?” Jay interlocked pinkies with Nya, a nonverbal “yes”. She couldn’t forget, it was too late for that. All she could do was make new memories, in the hopes that one day the pain won’t have room to cross her mind.