GRAVESKIES

Chapter 22

She turned to avoid Willow's approaching figure. Continued diligently stretching, decided not to waver because of the pair of green eyes trained on her.

"We need to talk."

"Leave me alone." Ignoring Willow, especially for something mundane as her own ego, went against Ryu's nature. Succeeding in it for two weeks was a spectacular accomplishment.

"Oh, seriously? And let you go back to not getting up from bed, not taking care of yourself, neglecting your wounds?" Willow's glare spared none, yet it still retained that soft, affirming quality that had always drawn Ryu in.

"You knew." Of all the people to know of her weakness, of her spiraling, it had to be Willow.

"Of course I did. I notice when you're not around. Who do you think tipped off the medics about your isolation?"

Jogging to keep up, Willow remained by her side, an ever-present thorn in her ribs.

"Have you been thinking about him...? Since you visited your mother."

"I've been thinking about myself." Willow understood the implications. I don't need help. Not from someone who hurt me. Willow replied with an outlandish statement.

"I'm jealous too." She cocked her head and jogged to keep up with Ryu, whose pace had started speeding up. "Have I ever told you about it? I'm so jealous that I think the only person in the world who'd understand how jealous I am is you. I've always envied you. You've always worked harder than I have."

Ryujin's eyes focused sharply on the tall grass. They'd reached a clump of leafy, orange-hued trees. She could look at anything but Willow. She would stare into the sun for hours if it could sear away her ability to ever see her again. But she feared Willow would be even brighter.

"I tried to force myself. To fake it. But I've never had the courage to invest myself, body and soul, to one thing."

"And look where it got me. Where it got you." Ryu shoved her hands in her pockets, passive acceptance replacing anger.

"Yeah." Willow smiled mournfully. "I suppose no matter what I say, you'll always read it as pity. Please don't take this as an accusation." Though that statement, in itself, accused Ryu of irrationality. There was no winning if she followed that train of thought.

The works broke out of her before she could drive a slaying spear into all her traitorous instincts. "I'm not recovering."

"The wounds? Or, your wings, you mean?" Willow's hand took soft hold of her shoulder. "I noticed you've lost many feathers, but they should grow back, right—"

"I'm not fucking recovering, Willow. From losing my dream. Losing Nyrin. I thought I'd be over it by now. I should be. But I can't..." Eyelids dropping, she shook her head. "Doctors are wasting their time on me anyway. I can accommodate others, Willow, but not you. I'll do many things and I'll hate even more and I'll rob myself without a care, but I won't filter myself for you. If I stay in my bed, I'm aware that hours are passing by and I'm aware that I'm dirty, but I can't lift a single finger against it. If my wounds fester it's because I let them. The worse they look and smell, the more it satisfies me. I hunger for every single way in which I can feel miserable. And I'm telling you this because you're..."

"I am?"

"You know damn well what you are."

Willow smiled for real, this time. "You're a brutal friend, Ryujin. You're brutal to love. But I think I'd relapse into you even if I tried my worst to stay away. I was made to withstand you."

There is no need to rush when someone can hurt you this easily with a few words. There is no real way out. "So that's what's happening here, huh."

"I'll use it. My Wielding."