Work Text:
Sawa awakens in the night from nightmares of a life foreign to her body, in a bed she chose herself. An apartment paid by her work, not the organization who had formed her into a spy.
But, she supposes, that was work.
Of a sort.
She awakens in a body that should have more scars than it does and a softness she couldn’t afford.
She awakens as she’s always been. As she’s never gotten to be.
Memories are confusing things, she thinks. Because she has a life here. A life she thinks she likes. They succeeded, after all.
But when memories hit her of another World, they became the dominant ones. And that was fine, when things were Happening.
Things are over, now. Calmer.
Outside of Evolt in space, but that’s a problem for the future.
Her apartment is too empty, though. She’s gotten used to the friendship and energetic nature of Nascita, even at night. Grew up in dorms, too. Even if one of those places, she could trust her fellows and the other, she couldn’t.
The air is empty of breath.
She gets up, gets dressed, and she heads out into the night,
Sento’s awake, when she gets to his warehouse home, and it’s a 50/50 shot whether he woke up like her or just never went to sleep, too entranced by whatever it is he’s writing… which is way too scattered across two boards and a peice of paper in front of him for her to parse at 2 am, unfortunately. Banjou’s snores can be heard, further back. There’s only one bed, but neither of them have explicitly said anything on their relationship, yet, so Sawa’s left it be.
“Knock knock,” she says.
“Hey, Sawa,” Sento says, handing her the paper. “Do you think this will work? Or should I…”
Sawa looks it over, easier to put the pieces in order now that it’s in her hand.
“Looks fine,” she says. “This part’s missing the variable, though.”
Sento nods. Then he blinks.
“Wait,” he says. “Why are you here? At… 2:36?”
Took him long enough.
Sawa shrugs.
“My apartment was too quiet,” she says. “And I don’t have any work tomorrow, so sleep isn’t an issue. Wanted some place… familiar.”
She doesn’t need to mention the nightmares. Being in close quarters for so long, Sento knows. And if he doesn’t figure it out, she’s not telling.
“The cafe—”
“Didn’t want to break in.”
“…then how did you get in here?”
“I broke in.” Sawa leans on his table. “This feels more like home, somehow.”
Because Sento and Banjou made it, and they all had to find them. Because this is the New World, so Nascita isn’t home, but the both of them awake at 2am for god knows what reason, and him asking her a question because she’s the only member of their group who can even come close to keep up with him very much is home.
Sento looks away.
“Are you glad you remember?” He asks, bravado falling for a moment. The thing that kills her is his bravado is quite unacted, most of the time, so this is…
2 am, and they’re both awake for reasons they won’t say.
And she’s lived two lives, one in a world that doesn’t exist, a body with far more scars and skills. And yes, of course, this life is better, that was the point , but…
“Yes,” she says. “Yes I am. And I’m glad you’re still around, too.”
Sento turns back to her, then, smiling. They don’t talk of anything else in particular, that night.
(And she’s not, necessarily, glad to have realized she fell asleep on the table, the next morning.
But even then, she supposes, it’s a small price to pay for the best possible outcome.)