Weapons | Bucky Barnes x OC

18. LOST

Warnings: dissociative symptoms such as derealization, depersonalization, panic attack.
Vivid descriptions. Anger issues. Angst.

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The next morning, at the first lights of dawn, Anya rushed out of her room. Quickly padding on the tatami and holding the katana from the scabbard, she made her way to the room where she had dinner with Josuke the night before. If possible, she was even more enraged than the night before, when she had sent Josuke to hell and left him standing in the dojo.

Still scarred by what had happened overnight, darting her gaze around the room, she happened to spot Momo in the same position and on the same pillow as the night before. For a moment she found herself wondering if he had at least moved once. However was grateful that she quickly found the man she was looking for.

Josuke was kneeling in front of the low table, on it there was a spread of bowls and saucers. In that short fraction of time, before her anger erupted, Anya recognized a small bowl of soup, an omelette, some beans on a saucer, a low cast iron teapot and a ceramic cup, probably full of green tea.

"Ohayō gozaimasu (Good morning), would you like some breakfast?" he was intent on taking a sip from the cup, perfectly aware of the reason for Anya's behavior.

"What the hell was in that food? LSD, any type of drug?" her chest rose and fell uncontrollably from the exact moment she opened his eyes.

"Just rice and salmon. With a little bit of soy sauce." he gestured by bringing the tips of his thumb and forefinger a few millimeters closer.

"Well I definitely didn't take this sword to sleep with me. Which means you put it there." she hissed. Her eyes were wide open and her forehead was glistening with sweat, while her mouth was still a little thick with sleep.

"Wow, you are very insightful." he giggled as he sipped his tea. "Perhaps the voices weren't entirely wrong in choosing you."

But a second later Anya rushed towards him and slapped the cup off his hands, sending it crashing into the wall. She grabbed Josuke by the collar of his kimono and pulled him on his feet without any significant effort. Something unlocked inside her, and whatever it was it breathed fire. Years of tortures to keep her silent and obedient caught fire and burned inside her all at once.

"Listen to me, old man. I walked in the desert for over a week. Found shelter in a farmhouse, only to see the poor family being killed in front of my eyes. Fought a whole night against the person I care the most in the world, only to leave him half dead. Two days on a cargo ship and then I arrived here, followed some flying fires in the woods and then I met you." Anya spoke slowly, words filled with anger, tension and cold. "And these are just two weeks in my life!"

What she had seen -experienced-, what she had been told during the night, kept popping up in her head every couple of moments. Did he know? Had Josuke known what she dreamed of that night? Perhaps she hadn't even dreamed, yet the integrity of the world, and having found everything in its place, that was a relief for Anya. Still, she was failing at not thinking about it anyway.

"Just to be clear, I'm not an old man. I couldn't be older than your father." he giggled.

"Whatever! You told me about a legend about two magical swords, you forced me to eat with sticks and pet your cat. I don't even believe these tales about energy, about the power of faith, about entities!"

"Anya.."

"Magic and all these things do not exist, Josuke! A sword cannot cure my nervous system. Nor will killing only who's guilty ever make me less a monster!" Anya clearly spelled the words, released her grip on Josuke's kimono collar, and dropped the sword in his hands.