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Angie isn’t sure what to expect when she hears a delicate rap on her door… Himiko has been coming by for regular visits, of course, and Shuichi and Kaede have both been by to talk to her more than once, but them aside, there aren’t a lot of people who have the most interest in spending time with Angie these days. Certainly none who knock with some much hesitation, so it’s with some concern that Angie swings her legs over the edge of her hospital bed and hums that they can come in.
It’s only Tenko, though, juggling a tray from the cafeteria on one arm and holding onto the door with her other hand. She offers a tight-lipped smile when their eyes meet, then ducks her gaze and shuffles from one foot to another.
“Angie-san, have you eaten yet?”
“...No,” Angie replies, because she hasn’t. She can’t muster the words to actually greet Tenko, and it doesn’t seem like Tenko is waiting for one, because she gives a short nod and enters the room properly. The former aikido master moves with remarkable grace, considering that her talent had been a ruse, and subsequently the paralysing way that Shinguuji chose to kill her. Angie has heard of her classmates experiencing phantom pains, episodes where their bodies seize as if still experiencing the consequences of how they died in the simulation… Angie herself has periodic headaches, of course, from the blow to the head she suffered…
But Tenko doesn’t seem bothered by it at all. She sets the tray down on Angie’s bedside table, then shuffles her weight once again.
“...All right. Take care.” Tenko turns with that, her twintails swishing behind her. Angie only realises she’s moved when her fingers are closing around the cool skin of Tenko’s wrist; she stops her, then stops herself with a faint gasp and flinches back. Tenko’s stark green eyes are already on her again, wide and vulnerable, her lips parted.
“A-Angie—” Angie tries, but her voice comes out halting. She bites down on her lower lip and sits back in bed, hugs her knees to her chest. “...Angie is sorry. She didn’t mean to do that.”
“You want me to stay?” Tenko asks, softly, discarding her usual pronoun. It makes her sound more mature, accordingly. Angie could stand to replicate the speaking style, but it just comes so naturally to her these days to speak how she did in the simulation. Perhaps that’s part of why everyone avoids her so staunchly; she can’t bring herself to turn her back on the bastardised version of a deity that Team Danganronpa cruelly implanted in her mind.
Angie shrugs. Tenko stares at her, then drops her gaze. She carefully sits down on the seat at Angie’s bedside, and her hands go to clasp between her knees.
Angie’s voice shakes again when she tries to speak once more. “Are you… afraid of me?”
“Afraid?” Tenko repeats, but she flinches, betraying her true feelings before she can come out with a response. Her shoulders square. The follow-up question is on Angie’s tongue, but this she doesn’t vocalise either; she knows the why well, because she knows the person she was in the simulation. She knows, as well, why Tenko bothered to follow her in the first place… That it was never for her own sake as much as it was for Himiko’s.
It’s unfair, because Tenko was always her favourite. The same way that a moth yearns for the fire that would burn it to ashes, Angie always longs for the ones who want her the furthest away from them. Tenko never believed her platitudes or thought her mission would be successful… She never thought it was right the way Angie wheeled people in without ever allowing them to get truly close. She never wanted to bring Rantaro back to life or stay in the academy forever… She just followed along with whatever she thought would keep Himiko safest.
That only made Angie yearn for her attention more, though, even if it was negative. Even now, the sting that comes with the knowledge that Tenko fears her is dulled by the sheer bliss of having her close. Angie wants to touch her again, she wants to close the meagre distance and relax in her arms the way Himiko did when they woke up, she wants desperately for Tenko’s gaze just to be on her…
Her heart pounds heavily in her chest. She asks a different question: “Why did you bring Angie her breakfast?”
“...Because you need to eat,” Tenko replies, at a delay… but she lifts her gaze as well, and a weak smile tugs at her lips. “Because Tenko is struggling to eat, too… Tenko is lonely, too.”
Is Angie lonely? The word alone makes her feel hollow. Or more accurately, makes her aware of the hollow sensation that’s always been there. She doesn’t know what to do with it but shift until her knees are only centimeters away from Tenko’s. She can feel the weight of both of their gazes on the small space where they’re almost touching… and then Tenko turns to face her directly, and their shins press together.
“Will you stay a little while longer?” Angie whispers.
“I will,” Tenko answers her.