Redemption

Absence

Ever since the day he found her in the garden, Takumi noticed a change in the Order's tactician. She was quieter, withdrawn, and lacked the energy to plan strategies or perform even simpler tasks like training duty. She flitted in and out of his sight on the silent wings of a moth, there one second and gone before he could reach her. He counted the days since he last talked to her, four, and grew more anxious as the number increased.

There were times when he'd spot her in the great hall, sometimes in the morning as he came downstairs for breakfast. She would be there chatting with heroes, Felicia and Lon'qu, and giving mild comments, the way she usually did when checking up on others. But by the time he reached the last step she would be gone, hurrying away to vanish off on her own. He would speed up to follow her but stopped, deciding that if she wanted space for a time, he'd step back.

Or maybe she just didn't like him anymore? The troubled side of his mind too easily wanted to believe that, but the rational side knew otherwise. No, that couldn't be the reason. She was not so cruel as to turn her back on anyone in such a fashion.

The Hosidan drew another arrow from his bow, materializing in cerulean blue. The Fujin Yumi yielded true to his aim, hitting a far target with more force than the previous ones. The target tilted back on its stand, teetering dangerously, before falling forward into its previous place. Takumi grimaced, not intending to use so much force for target practice. But the turmoil in his mind blinded him from how much tension simmered in his arms as he pulled back the arrow, making him forget his surroundings.

He lowered his arms, turning behind him to watch the afternoon sun slip into behind western mountains as evening settled in, streaking it in orange and bronze. Wistfully, he remembered her hair, a fond memory that crossed his thoughts at least once a day. What once was an exciting discovery now mocked him with vengeance. Maybe he would have been better off if he never saw it at all. He would never know what the lay hidden behind that cursed cloak. Besides the smile he's come to memorize, would he ever find out what the rest of her face looked like?

He saw her even less at meal times, and it was almost like the beginning when he'd nearly have to drag her to the banquet hall. She was like a vapor, easily seen but always evading his grasp. The growing distance was unnerving him, just as he was beginning to feel more privileged to know her so well. It dawned on him that he, Takumi, was one of the few people to continually spend a considerable amount of time with her, besides that miserable thief, and maybe that blue-haired prince. He frowned at the thought, but remembered his promise to treat him more courteously, as much as it would kill him to do so (and it probably would).

Having finished his solitary training session, Takumi returned to the castle, his thoughts more jumbled than when he started shooting. A headache formed in his temples from overthinking, a common occurrence that he dealt with frequently. Maybe he'd feel better after eating dinner, but knowing the tactician wouldn't be there made him less eager to go.

The great hall was already lit with sconces and torches, the space filled with more heroes that were ambling toward the welcoming aromas that drifted from the banquet hall. He scanned the sea of faces for anyone familiar, and decidedly meandered to one of the few people that made him feel comfortable.

Ryoma accompanied Cherche, and the wyvern-rider was competing with him in height. Takumi was glad to see the red-headed woman, having taken a liking to her since he saw her mouthing off Virion.

"Greetings," she smiled, waving him over to join them.

"Takumi, I was beginning to think you wouldn't show," Ryoma said, turning to face him.

The archer regarded him with a nod, but continued to search the crowds for a girl in white robes. "Have you seen _____ lately?"

Ryoma glanced at him as they walked, appraising his sibling. "I have not," he replied. "Are you feeling well, brother?"

"I'm fine," he answered, even as his headache pulsed in his temples. If there was one thing about Ryoma that irked Takumi, it was his ability to sense when something was amiss in others, especially when that attention was directed at him. He wanted nothing more than to stand before his brother as an equal in strength; no weaknesses, cares, or faults. But the fact of the matter was, in that moment he was swimming in problems, and did everything in his power to hide it.

They drew closer to their destination, but Ryoma was not about to let him off the hook. "You spend a good sum of time with her." It was not a question, rather a mere observation meant to draw out answers. But the younger Hoshidan was aware of the pitfall and easily veered around it.

"Tsk. She's the most tolerable," he said evenly.

Ryoma chuckled, easily seeing through his brother's irritated mask. "I can see that you two are close. It's rare to see you so at ease with anyone else."

"Unlike most people here, she doesn't get on my last nerve," he scoffed, catching Cherche's bemused smile as he turned away.

"An accomplishment, for certain," the samurai jested. His smile was small, but it was enough for Takumi to be annoyed by it.

The trio walked through the double doors of the hall, just as servers were delivering plates and beverages to seated guests. A fire was roaring to provide more light, and the candles in the twin chandeliers glowed over the set of tables. Scanning over the Heroes, Takumi immediately spotted Gaius on the far side near the stone fireplace, sitting with Chrom and Lon'qu. Instant resentment built in him, remembering their last encounter. But he made a promise and swallowed the bitter feeling that rose to his stomach.

Cherche bounded away from them to sit with Cain and Felicia. With great hesitation, the Hoshidan moved to sit with them, following the example of his brother. Cain somehow rubbed him the wrong way, boisterously laughing during the course of the meal. Takumi picked idly at the food on his plate, wishing for a pair of chopsticks rather than a fork. Even more so he wished _____ was there to rid the boredom that quickly settled in. But for now, he would just have to endure being out of place.

Ryoma was far more natural at holding a conversation. Takumi tried to listen to the discussion but was bored quickly. Small talk and meaningless chattering repelled him greatly, and Cain seemed to say just about everything that could get on his nerves. Some remarks even came off as crude. Takumi growled to himself. This was the same man that caused the Summoner's injury a few battles ago. The Hoshidan would not be forgetting that fact so easily, and the more he considered it, the more irritated he became. In less than ten minutes, the archer stood to dismiss himself, having listened to more of Cain than he could take.

"You hardly ate. Are you feeling alright?" Cherche asked with concern, setting down her cup of water.

"Don't worry. It's not the first time he bit off more than he can chew," the horseman goaded, grinning at him with a fiery glint in his eyes. Then he downed his glass in one gulp and wiped his mouth with the back of his sleeve.

Takumi reddened, instantly miffed that such a comment was made in front of his brother. Not only was he offended, but he didn't exactly understand what the horseman meant by that, which only stood to irritate him more. All he knew was that Cain was no good. Ignoring his comment completely, Takumi looked between Ryoma and Cherche, who watched him with curious eyes. There were too many people here for him to make a scene.

"I'm fine. If you'll excuse me," he answered, bearing as much politeness as he could stand. With that he departed from the overcrowded room, anxious to get some fresh air and to get away from the crowd. As he left, he felt the heavy stare of his brother burning into his back. With fortune, he would evade questioning about his behavior. That was the last thing he needed.

The apprehension that resided with him through the entire course of the meal was instantly vanquished once he stepped into the great hall, empty of most people save for some late diners and castle staff. But the one person he was eagerly looking for was no where in sight.

Frustration seized him. He needed to see her. He wouldn't let her avoid him forever. No, he didn't have the patience to let her solve her problems on her own. Not if it took this long, and the wait was already eating him. Taking off, he began his scourge of the castle, set on ending this petty avoidance. And once he made up his mind, there was no changing it.