one heart, but mine was in two; one half filled with the dreams of a saint

[willowed]

Most of the time, Darrow's beach is not a very forgiving one. Nuriko has known many beaches before, even though her own village stood well into the land, hours away from the ocean. For the first decade of her life, it had been all she knew, and all she cared to know. She had everything that made her happy in that small village — neighbors she loved, and a family she couldn't bear to part with. But after her sister died, something in Nuriko broke and ran hollow, bleeding her dry. She ran from village to village, from region to region, searching for something to fill the void. Learning how to dress as women dressed, to walk as women walked, on the off-chance that in herself, she could find Korin as well.

In those days, oceans had offered a time for reflection.

The warmth of spring has barely begun to tease Darrow in recent days, the clouds overhead allowing more sun to peek through and touch the cheeks of those who pass by the beach. But it's cold, and the waves run high with the wind, a pale green in the distance as Nuriko walks up to the surf and breathes the salty air in deep. Her long hair, reaching down to her thighs, is woven into a thick braid that she starts to release now. Maybe later, the tangles will make this more of a pain than it's worth, but when she feels the wind start to kick up some of her hair, she can't bring herself to care.

Spotting the fact that she isn't the only one on the beach today, Nuriko turns with a soft smile. She's searched for her sister so many times in places like this that even now, years after she's come to terms with what happened to Korin, the very feel of the ocean makes Nuriko ache.

"Kind of chilly, isn't it?" she asks her companion.

Comments

[norelief]

As much as Finnick longs for the warmth that will allow him to swim, to fish, he likes the chill in the air at the beach. He likes that it keeps the crowds at bay. It's both funny and a little bit sad, but for someone who's spent so much of his life surrounded by so many goddamn people, he struggles with them now. He struggled in 13. He doesn't look across, yet, when he speaks, sharply inhaling the cold salt air. "Mm, but it's better. Less crowded. Quieter."

[willowed]

The reply makes her laugh. Not unkindly, but instead an expression of nostalgia, longing for the more taciturn members of the Suzaku warriors, whom she hasn't seen in months. Hotohori had been a fan of the quiet, and even though Nuriko knows now that the two of them never would have been right for one another, it's hard to bat away the fondness that she feels upon every last memory of him.

"Does that mean that you don't have the heart for a conversation with a stranger?" Nuriko teases, her cheeks pink from the strong gusts of wind, and her fingers futilely trying to keep her hair in some semblance of order.

[norelief]

Finnick's got a lot more heart than anyone gives him credit for, though it's not something he'd admit to himself. It's easier to be heartless, anyway, easier not to give a damn. He knows this isn't what she meant, but it makes him turn, more sure this means he needs to engage her. To not dismiss her, as his broken self might. "Depends on the conversation," he says. He smiles slightly.

[willowed]

She laughs again. It's one of the rules that Nuriko tries to live by. Look for any possible opportunity to laugh, to smile, to take advantage of the good rather than dwelling on the bad. She's done more of her share of wallowing over the years, anyway, and she's always found that powering through it makes her feel the best in the end.

It doesn't change the fact that so many of her loved ones died, or that she herself died young, but that's all over. It's in the past. All that she can affect is the present and the future.

A simplistic sort of strategy, really.

"I don't even know what kind of conversation I'm proposing. I just like making friends," she admits, pursing her lips. "Have you ever gotten the feeling like... you've been given a second chance to live? To really live? Maybe try to make up for some lost opportunities before?"

[norelief]

It's a little heavier than he's expecting, although Finnick can't really argue that he minds. At least she's not trying to lure admissions out of him with false pretenses. At least her question isn't hidden in another, lighter one. He's not sure how he feels about making friends, will always have his guard up unless circumstances dramatically change. Even then, he'd probably still be like he is now. He owes the Capitol that. "I don't know," he answers after a moment. He really doesn't. "Here, in Darrow, you mean? I thought so, for a while."

And then there was the arrival of his trident. The bread. The bees. The illusion of having evaded the Capitol was exactly that. They'd been foolish to believe they might be safe. That something might really change.

[willowed]

There's something in the way that this young man seems to fit in with the waves crashing around him. Like he's part of the setting, part of the aesthetic, right down to the briefly pensive look he gives at her question. Nuriko has always loved the idea of water being a good medium for reflection, and on far more than a literal level.

The steady crashing contrasts with the calm in her heart.

"Only for a while?" she asks, leaning forward until her chest presses against her knees, curling to make herself look slightly smaller. "Sounds like something changed your mind."

[norelief]

Finnick shakes his head, still staring at the surf for a few moments before he turns to face her, to answer the question. It's one that he doesn't even have to think about all that much. "It was more like a mistake. Trusting that things might be better here. They're not, really. Different, maybe."

He doesn't have to be dragged off to the Capitol to be sold to the highest bidder, but he also doesn't have Annie or Mags here. Then again, he wouldn't have had Mags back in 13, anyway. A necessary sacrifice, but one that had broken his heart nonetheless. Trouble seems to want to follow him wherever he goes, and there's a strong part of himself that hates whatever made him put his guard down. He sighs softly, turning back to watch the water ebb and flow. "What about you? Any second chances?"

[willowed]

The young man's take on the city is telling — but presented with an honesty that Nuriko can only respect and appreciate. She leans forward, feeling a slight tightness in her chest, wanting to share more with him in turn. The way that he talks about the city is too sad, really. Nuriko's always preferred being able to offer people hope, or a smile, but with this young man, she's not sure yet where to begin.

So she decides to return the favor.

"Did you know that this place can bring people back from the dead?" Nuriko asks, resting her chin on her knee. "Or, for me, it keeps me from moving on. I died back in my world, as part of a war. But I don't resent being brought here. It's nice to have the chance for a few more years than I was intended to have."

[norelief]

"...you died?" It's hard enough to wrap his mind around that fact, let alone that she seems so accepting of it. He's come so close to death so many times himself, and it was never exclusive to the rules of the arena. A no, an overt display of affection towards Annie, all of these things could so easily see him slain. Yet here he stands. Ten years of cheating death, while others around him weren't so lucky.

He's not sure what to say. Sorry, maybe, but that's a comfort usually saved for the loved ones of those that have died, not those that have actually breathed their last breath. She seems to have embraced it, anyway, and he's not sure it would do much good. "I'm glad you got a second chance. You mentioned a war?"

He can't help but think of the Dark Days. He can't help but think of what Katniss has told him comes next.

[willowed]

"I died. Pretty painfully, too," Nuriko says, smiling good-naturedly in spite of what she shares. There are worse things, she thinks, than dying painfully. Worse things than dying on the top of that snow-capped mountain, impossibly beautiful and serene before her, even as her body trembled as the temperature dropped.

Because at least she got to know good people, and at least she learned what it meant to love, and at least she finally knew what it meant to be Nuriko.

That was pretty powerful.

"I would have been fine moving on, but I can't lie and say I don't appreciate having a little longer than I was meant to, you know?" she murmurs, watching his expression carefully. She needs to be careful not to overstep her boundaries. "But yes, there was a war. There were four neighboring nations where I'm from, and one of them was set on overtaking all of the others. Starting with mine. A lot of people died young in that battle."

[norelief]

Finnick thinks of the Dark Days. And then, the rebellion that had ignited the moment Katniss challenged the Capitol, holding out a handful of berries in an act of defiance. He thinks of all of the casualties so far, and how many are surely to come after his arrive in Darrow. It's no comfort to know that war has raged elsewhere, maybe even beyond what little he's learnt about back in school. "You don't have to lie," he says. "There's nothing wrong with wanting to live the life you should have had."

[willowed]

"You know," Nuriko says thoughtfully, giving the young man a longer look, her eyes briefly narrowed as she surveys his expression. "People who haven't been through war are usually so angry on my behalf. The moment they look at someone like me, young and healthy... they wonder how I feel so calmly about it. Especially if I'm dressed as I am. Not like an expendable life from a small village."

She leans forward, hooking her chin over her knees, hands brushing down her legs.

"But you sound more like you're someone who's stood on the same side of the battlefield as I did."

[norelief]

"Something like that," Finnick says, although it feels entirely different. He's never heard of anything quite like the arenas that they were thrust into, expected to kill all for entertainment, all for the sake of the Capitol of proving that they could. After, though, after the escape and the beginning of the rebellion he knows that there's more to come, more that occurs after his arrival here, but he doesn't know his exact role in it all. He's not sure he wants to. "Yeah, I've fought."

[willowed]

It's in Nuriko's nature to want to know, but she's also been with enough people to realize that some only feel safe when they have the access to privacy. There's a fine line that she tries to toe with those she meets. Interested, but not so bold as to knock their walls down. Leaning forward, Nuriko drapes her arms over her legs, watching the young man from where her cheek nearly rests against her cheek.

"I'm glad you fought and survived," she says with a small smile, fingers weaving through her hair to push some errant strands out of the way. "I'm Nuriko, by the way."