Work Text:
Things going wrong was an inevitable part of life. Even the most naive optimist wouldn't stay happy forever. Perhaps the only people spared from the harsh realities of the world were children, but it was a matter of time.
It was always a matter of time. You couldn't depend on the warmth or you'd be vulnerable when the cold crept in.
Sometimes it was sudden, a strike of lightning to the system. Other times it was gradual, a shift which could remain unnoticed until it became unbearable. Aika felt the gradual changes were worse. They surrounded you when you were least expecting. Before you could devise a way to combat them, they were upon you, black, suffocating shadows which clung until the world dimmed.
When there was too much to deal with, Aika retreated. Physical spaces weren't often available, so she found a quiet place in her mind where she couldn't be reached. Peace reined there, soothing her, assuring her she didn't have to feel the pain. She didn't have to see or hear or touch. It could just be her and the silence. She could in-vision an alternate world where none of her troubles existed. Invisible threads wove the life of an old fisherman down on his luck. A child who was able to taste sweet treats for the first time. A lonely girl who found solace in a raggedy stray dog. A tailor who's simple life was a farce behind which he kept monsters at bay.
Other kids laughed at her, calling her silly for always being stuck in her head. She wasn't really listening. In her fantasies, everything disappeared.
But there were times when her silence couldn't erase the present. Vines snaked out from the corners of her mind, snaking around her, whispering words that rang clear even when she shied away.
The luminous hand on her clock's movement never changed. It was rhythmic, hypnotising if you stared too long. Aika wasn't sure how long she had been watching its journey across the clock face. She tracked the seconds hand. One, two, three.
Each movement took an eternity. Her eyes dropped to her hands, rested limply in her lap. They felt pointless some times. Her brother could create moving robots with his. Mahō drew vivid scenes of landscapes and people Aika could only create in her head. Both were helped with tools and a screen. They didn't need anything else. Aika turned her hands over, assessing her palms. Her skin was smooth and pale, unremarkable. They weren't like Rui's, calloused from hours of handling metal. Quite unimportant. They could belong to anyone. If they were stuck onto another girl, no one could tell a difference.
She had once been told her imagination was her greatest skill. Aika often wondered if those words were wrapped in courtesy. There were many things Aika thought could be considered great. Many people who deserved to be recognised because of how amazing they were.
'My main goal is to reach the people that need it', Heiwa had said. The world seemed clearer through her friends' lenses. For a long time, Aika felt the people around her understood something she didn't. She wasn't sure how to find it, her hands scrabbling feebly in the dark, searching for purchase and never quite getting a hold. They slipped through her fingers like cold rain, easy to forget. Easy not to think.
The clock's hand ticked. One, two, three, four...
How long would she have to sit here, unmoving, for the world to move on? Would it be bad? She would miss this, wouldn't she? The conversations with her friends when she chose to join in, their time together. Even if she wasn't important, one answer would take shape, solid in her misty mind. She wouldn't like to leave. And if that's true, maybe the seconds do matter.