Work Text:
The stars in the sky reflect off the surface of the water, making the Sparkling Pool of Makna Forest live up to its name.
Sharla eagerly strips down and enters the water; Fiora, on the other hand, is much more reluctant.
“Come on in, the water’s great!” Sharla calls.
A bit of prompting is all she needs, and in less than a minute Fiora has submerged herself completely. Sharla will always marvel at how effortlessly the other girl floats in the water, even with her Mechon body.
After splashing around for a bit, Sharla floats on her back in the water, with Fiora following suit.
“It would’ve been nice if Melia could come,” says Fiora. “She’s been so busy ever since she became Empress.”
“That girl has got to relax a bit,” Sharla comments, and before she can stop herself, adds, “You too, for that matter.”
“What do you mean?”
She hesitates, unsure if she should continue or not. “I know you’ve been avoiding me lately,” she says. “Actually, from what I hear, you’ve been avoiding everyone.”
Fiora tilts her head to the side. “Is that why you brought me out here?”
It doesn’t escape Sharla’s attention that she doesn’t even try to deny it.
“Partly,” she admits, mostly because Fiora has always struck her as the type of person who appreciates honesty. “You don’t have to tell me, but just know that any time you want to talk, Big Sis Sharla’s here to listen.”
She knows there’s something wrong — normally that would get a giggle out of Fiora, but now she’s just silent. Almost contemplative. Sharla is patient, though, and she can wait as long as it takes for the other girl to find her words properly.
When Fiora does finally speak, it’s in a whisper so quiet that Sharla has to strain to hear her.
“I don’t look like I used to. I think I’m…ugly.”
At first, Sharla wonders if maybe some water has gotten in her ears; it’s only when she looks over and sees the way that Fiora is steadfastly avoiding eye contact that she knows she didn’t mishear everything.
She goes from floating on her back to upright treading water so quickly that the water in the pool is disrupted in the process, splashing her.
What are you talking about? is Sharla’s first inclination to say. From the first moment she’d heard about Fiora — let alone actually met her — she had always admired the other girl. It seemed like all she heard about almost constantly from Reyn, Shulk, and Dunban was how terrific she is, how she had touched all of their lives. It took only a single meeting for Sharla to confirm and begin to think the same way.
Clearly, by the way Fiora had said those words, she had been thinking about them for a long time. That must be the reason why she had isolated herself, why she had refused to talk to anyone for so long.
Sharla hesitates. There is something of determination in Fiora right now, the set of her jaw maybe. Something that tells her that Fiora wouldn’t appreciate a simple denial or anything of her feelings being steamrolled over and invalidated.
She lets the cool water splash over her skin, and she thinks.
“When I was a little girl,” she begins, and it might just be her imagination, but Fiora seems to shift ever so slightly. She’s still floating on her back, but she isn’t just ignoring Sharla’s words, that’s for certain. “I would always get into trouble. I could never really sit still; instead, I was always out and about. I love fruits, did you know that? I would always climb the highest trees just so that I could get the best Gooseberries.”
Something within Sharla relaxes as she tells this story, and she goes back to floating on her back. The stars overhead twinkle as though encouraging her to continue.
“And then when Juju was born,” she goes on, “it only got worse. The two of us used to get into all sorts of trouble, and we would come home all scraped up and covered in dirt.”
Fiora giggles, and the sound brings something light to Sharla, that maybe, just maybe, her words might end up having their intended effect on their listener.
“But then, when I got older, some of the other girls in the Colony would tell me some things,” Sharla says.
“Things like what?”
“About how it was time for me to grow up, and how the boys in the Colony wouldn’t look twice at me if I was always ugly.”
Fiora inhales sharply at the words, no doubt hitting their mark a bit closer than she had expected them to.
“So what did you do then?” she asks cautiously.
Sharla laughs once, sharp and bitter. “Nothing.”
“Nothing?”
“Nothing.”
Sharla’s hands begin to move back and forth, gently swishing through the water and delighting in the tiny ripples the movement creates.
“Sure, there were a few boys I liked, but I figured if they didn’t like the way I looked, then it wasn’t my problem. Besides, why would I want to be with someone who wanted to change me?” She sighs. Now she’s come to the part of the story that will be the hardest to tell, and she needs to steel herself a bit before she can do so. “And then, I met Gadolt.”
Fiora doesn’t question either the name or the weight with which Sharla speaks it. Someone must have already told her about him: Shulk, maybe, or Reyn.
“I’d seen him around before, but I’d never talked to him much before,” she says. Each word catches in her throat, but she forces it out regardless. “We just never really had the same circles, I guess. But one day, when I was training, he came up to me.”
“Training?” Fiora asks.
“For the Defense Force,” Sharla clarifies. It’s always strange to her how despite the fact that Colonies 6 and 9 aren’t all that far from each other, the way they grew up in them is so different. “By then, I was almost a full-fledged medic, but I still took any chance I got to practice.”
“You still do,” Fiora says with a light laugh.
Sharla smiles at that, because it’s true.
“Then what did he do?”
“He told me he’d seen me train before and he’d never seen anyone shoot like that before,” Sharla says. Even though it is difficult to talk about, it still brings hints of a fond smile to her face. “He asked me if I was free after training.”
“What did you say?”
“That he was welcome to train with me if he wanted to,” Sharla says. She shakes herself out of the daze that the story had put her in, wondering if she’d somehow managed to miss the point she was trying to make on the way. “I kept waiting for him to say something about how he didn’t like the way I looked, or that I should spend less time climbing trees, but it never came. Instead, he always offered to come with me.”
“He sounds sweet,” Fiora says softly.
“He is,” Sharla agrees. “Was, I mean.”
It’s still funny to think about, that gruff Gadolt would always climb the highest trees with her. The two of them could sit up there for hours, just snacking on Heart Peaches together.
“I know what you’re trying to say,” Fiora continues in that same soft tone of voice. “It doesn’t matter what I look like, right?”
“That’s not true,” Sharla says. She isn’t naive enough to say that; to some extent, how you look does impact how you feel. She can’t even imagine how it must be for Fiora, to constantly be reminded that now she’s different from the people around her. “Actually, I’m not really sure what it is that I’m trying to say. But all I know is that no matter what you think, to the right people, it won’t matter.”
Fiora lets out a shaky breath, but doesn’t say anything. Sharla takes that as a sign to continue.
“Dunban used to talk about you a lot,” she says. “About how you were brave and strong, and how he couldn’t be more proud of you.”
At that, Fiora scoffs. “He likes to exaggerate,” she says, but she can’t quite conceal the undercurrent of fondness in her voice.
“Reyn couldn’t stop going on and on about your cooking. He swore that there wasn’t a better chef to be found on the Bionis.”
“That’s always been the thing he cares most about,” says Fiora, but there’s a slight smile on her face now. She hesitates. “…And Shulk?”
Sharla had a feeling it had something to do with him.
“When you were gone,” she says, “Shulk took it the hardest. He was constantly thinking about you, I could tell. And when we found you again — I’ve never seen him that happy before.”
Fiora sniffles softly. Tears trace down the sides of her face before disappearing into the pool.
“Thank you, Sharla,” she says. She brushes her fingers against Sharla’s lightly. “You were right. It is nice out here.”
“Isn’t it?” She opens her mouth to say more, but a bright light catches her attention, and she looks up to see a star streaking across the sky.
Fiora follows her gaze. “A shooting star! I haven’t seen one since I was a kid.”
“Me neither,” says Sharla. “You know, they say if you make a wish on that star, it’ll come true. Want to?”
Fiora pauses. “No,” she says finally. “I don’t think I need to make a wish. I already have everything I want.”