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Entry tags:
FFI: Of Paramount Importance
Fandom: Final Fantasy I
Pairing: None
Warnings: None
Rating: G
Summary: The Four Warriors of Light don't exactly seem capable of a long quest together. For![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
ff_epicfic.
Notes: I used the names my GBA game automatically assigned to them, Daryl, Sasuun, Mikoto and Homac, and the four default classes, thief, warrior, white mage and black mage. Hopefully, anything else you can pick up from the story.
"You look like you need a hand," Daryl says. Without waiting for the warrior's answer, she plunges into the battle, stabbing her knife hard into the wolf's body with a speed the warrior's movements can't match. She looks up, her smile a little feral and wild in its exuberance as the creature dies at her feet. "The name's Daryl. I'm a thief. I'm here to join you."
"Sasuun," the warrior replies, running a hand through his hair and pushing it back from his eyes. He regards her coolly for a moment, and she squirms under the unfamiliar scruntiny -- appraising, but not appreciative, not paying any attention to the way the men's clothes only accentuate her lean, lithe body. She finds herself flushing under his gaze, as she never does. "You have a shard of crystal?"
"Just as you do."
"Then it seems we're meant to travel together," he says, and his expression doesn't change.
---
The air smells strongly of burnt flesh. The young man stands there, his eyes blank, and then tips his chin up to meet Daryl's eyes. He seems oddly shapeless in his robes, as if he's unfinished, not quite human. "My name is Homac. I'm here to join you."
"You can certainly fight," she says, grudgingly admiring. He shrugs his shoulders. Sasuun stands at her side, regarding the newcomer critically.
"Do you have a crystal shard?"
Silently, the man draws back a sleeve of his robes and pulls out a shard, like and unlike theirs, glinting bright colours in the sun. As if in token, they show him their own, and Daryl tries to see even a flicker of interest in the mage's dark eyes. For a moment, they stand there, the sun shining through the gems and casting coloured patterns.
Sasuun has only just begun to wonder where this is all leading.
He doesn't say anything to his two companions.
---
"I'm here to join you," the girl says, in exactly the same way as the black mage and the thief said the same before her. She smiles at Sasuun, and he can see how hard she's trying. "You are the warrior, are you not? I am a white mage. I will be able to help you with my healing on the quest before us."
He nods. He would ask why, whether she knows more, but he knows that, really, she does not. She just feels the road stretching before them in exactly the same way he does. "Daryl and Homac are sleeping at the inn," he tells her. "Come along and wait with me for them to be ready." And then, after a pause, realising: "My name is Sasuun."
He pauses for a moment, but she doesn't reply and he can't tell what she's thinking. She looks fragile, like a pretty china doll with soft curling blond hair -- but thinks of all the magic that could be held inside such a tiny frail body, and doesn't ask her if she's sure. The determined look in her blue eyes says more than enough.
He turns to lead her to the inn.
---
"I don't believe it," the thief says, pulling her hair back and tying it into a ponytail. She ties a bandanna over her hair as well, looking up impatiently when no one answers her. The white mage smiles serenely, swinging her legs a little as she sits in the chair. She's small, frail, swamped in her white robes, and the thief has to hold back a snort of annoyance at the sight of her there like that.
Sasuun avoids her eyes, standing near the kid as if in protection. The black mage's face is completely blank -- not that that, in itself, is surprising. She sighs to herself. She's surprised to find herself even more annoyed by the sight of Sasuun there accepting the girl so easily, even seeming to like her.
"I can't believe it, I really can't. Here I am, on 'a quest of paramount importance', and my team members are an emotionless freak in an overlarge hat, a little girl who comes to shoulder height, and a mysterious warrior who barely talks and never smiles."
"Deal with it," the black mage says, unexpectedly.
Sasuun looks up. "Homac -- "
"How old are you, even?" Daryl asks the little white mage, ignoring the other two. Her tone is sharp. "What is your name? Can you even talk yet?"
"I'm fifteen," the girl says, surprising Daryl with the clearness of her voice, a calm confidence in her eyes. "My name is Mikoto. I'm a white mage and I hold a crystal. I'm coming with you whether you like it or not, so you might as well learn to trust me. You, however, as a thief, should probably be regarded with suspicion..."
"I don't steal from my companions," she says, the words tight.
Mikoto simply smiles again.
"I've heard talk from the guards who work from the nearby castle," Homac says, after a pause. "The king is looking for us. I heard that the princess has been kidnapped. Perhaps...?"
"Perhaps we should get some training in first," Sasuun says, not without a sideways glance of doubt at Mikoto. The white mage jumps to her feet, straightening out her robes, and smiles at him.
"It might help. I've heard thieves," sideways glance, tiny nod, "tend to be a bit light on the attack until they've had some experience. Maybe we ought to get some new equipment, as well. I only have a knife."
Daryl chooses not to answer that for a moment, holding her head a little higher. "We'll see," is all she says, as they move to leave the inn.
---
"You aren't half bad at fighting," Daryl says, to Mikoto, looking ahead to where the Princess Sarah walks with her hand on Sasuun's arm. "Better than Homac," she adds, a trifle bitterly. Trust a black mage to leave her defenceless in a fight. She clutches a bloodstained rag around her arm a little tighter, wishing the wound would stop throbbing. She's had worse, of course, but --
"Let me," Mikoto says, when she sees. She reaches up and puts a gentle hand on Daryl's arm. For a moment, her lips move and her eyes close, and then she opens her eyes and pulls her hand away and Daryl gasps at a flurry of tingles running through her arm. "Cure spell," the girl says in explanation, pulling away. For a moment, Daryl considers the girl, standing still to examine her face. Then, ahead of them, a monster leaps forward at Sasuun and the Princess and she runs forward to drag the Princess out of danger, without a second thought for Mikoto.
"Sasuun!"
A flurry of white sparks flurry around Sasuun, healing him as the white mage joins the fray. She's gripping a hammer tightly in her hand -- new equipment that Homac had bought for her, given her without a word. She wields it surprisingly well, beating back a goblin with a single blow, turning to grin at Daryl.
"Are you just going to stand there?"
Challenge offered in such terms, Daryl can't exactly refuse. She hesitates for a moment between knife or the newer, unfamiliar rapier, and finally pulls the latter, leaping forward to thrust it through a goblin about to attack Mikoto. "You should pay more attention."
"Thank you," Mikoto says -- for a moment, with surprising humility, before suddenly the crackle of thunder behind them draws their attention to the fact that both of them need to be paying more attention.
Homac looks at Daryl, his eyes impassive as ever. She shudders a little and decides not to go over and thank him.
"You work well together," the Princess says, trying to regain her composure as she smoothes out her skirt. Sasuun looks just about to laugh, and Daryl bites her lip.
"We're learning," Mikoto says, smiling her usual serene smile. Daryl has to wonder if anything phases that girl or if everything is simple and easy for her. She envies her composure -- almost.
---
"Where are we going?"
The wooden bridge is firm and new, the builder's smiles hopeful and bright, their salutes crisp and meaningful. Homac spoke in an undertone, for just the four of them, but Daryl glares at him all the same. "Not now, Homac. Wait."
Mikoto raises an eyebrow, and Daryl feels a vicious stab of the dislike she felt for her right at first. "When better? Perhaps someone here in Cornelia will be able to help us. We can't always rely on instinct, even though it has got us this far. Who told you this quest was so important? Or did you just feel it? Do you know anyone we can turn to once we leave this land?"
"Do you?"
"No, but that's my point."
"I don't think there's anyone that can really help us," Sasuun says. He shrugs. "Except maybe the person who made the prophecy. Luk -- Luka -- "
"Lukahn."
They look at each other for a moment, measuring everything so far against everything to come, trying to feel how much they can trust the intuition they have, the suggestion of where they should go that nudges within.
"That dancing girl knew a lot," Daryl says, doubtfully.
"Only for this area, I think," Mikoto says. Daryl looks at her, annoyed by the tone of her voice, even though she's smiling as usual, thoughtful and quiet. She doesn't seem to be mocking her or trying to show her up, but it feels like that all the same. "I think we are on our own. But I also think we have to... we have to trust each other. Talk to each other. Share everything we think of."
"I'll do it," Sasuun says, and then, quickly, "if you do."
Homac nods slightly. "It's necessary."
"I will too," Daryl mutters, reluctantly. It irks her, going along with Mikoto's suggestion.
Mikoto nods, thoughtful again, biting her lip. "I think we should go north. I'm not sure if there's something we should do there or whether it's a place we should just... go, and find out something, but it might..."
Sasuun nods, glancing around everybody for agreement. "North seems right to me."
North, of course, is fairly relative. It feels more like east at times, and sometimes south, because there's always vegetation, always something to stumble through, around or over. Daryl loses count of the number of times Sasuun leans down to help one of the mage's up after they've tripped over the hem of their own robes. She loses count of the number of times she's swatted at some annoying, buzzing bug, only to find that it'd already flown away.
She's lost count of the number of battles, the number of potions, the number of spells. She's lost count of the number of times Sasuun has frowned, the number of times Mikoto has smiled.
And she's almost -- almost -- forgotten to continue the monologue of dislike towards the young white mage.
---
"You're afraid to fail," Mikoto says, watching her, as she shakes out a tight-packed sleeping bag. Sasuun is out collecting firewood, and Homac is, apparently, asleep, breathing slowly and deeply. Daryl doesn't look up to see the smile she knows is there, smoothing out her sleeping bag and kicking aside a rock. "You're afraid that I'll turn out to be better at this than you, even though I'm younger."
"I -- "
"Don't deny it."
She does look up, now. "Stop trying to get inside my head."
"I hardly need to try," she says, laughing a little. She jumps up -- almost falling over her own robe again, and automatically Daryl reaches to steady her. Smiling a thanks, she gets out her own sleeping bag, lowering her voice a little. "I'm afraid of failing, too. My parents have no idea where I am. You try not to show it, just like me. It's hard. We'd be better helping each other, rather than..."
"Snipping at each other all the time?"
"That's right," she says, smiling again, "snipping."
"I don't know if I can do that," Daryl says, thoughtfully, but there's a teasing look in her face and an edge to her voice now. She pushes gently at Mikoto's shoulder. "Don't be scared."
"I know. You and Homac and Sasuun will look after me. And we'll look after you."
It's true, Daryl realises: she will look after Mikoto. Has, already, been looking after her. And the others have all been looking out for her, even in her fits of temper -- Mikoto's spells, quiet and unobtrusive as she jumps into battle, Sasuun at her side and Homac behind, supporting, a steady foundation. She smiles a little, wonders if she looks anything like Mikoto when she does. "I suppose so."
Mikoto says, "Don't suppose, just know," and Daryl is surprised to find that she doesn't mind that little serene smile quite so much now she knows that really, Mikoto isn't completely untouched -- that she's afraid.
---
"Here you go," Daryl says, handing Homac a potion. Mikoto is busying herself with Sasuun's wounds, a look of concentration on her face. "We'll be getting to an inn soon, I'm sure. It looks as if there's a town up ahead."
"Thank you," the black mage says, almost but not quite meeting her eyes. She's surprised to catch a smile there, hovering at the corners of his mouth, and she stands up to busy herself with something else to think about. She raises an eyebrow at Mikoto.
"You had a patient here, too, you know."
"You've been stealing even my job?" Mikoto asks, looking up at her as she finishes fixing a bandage around Sasuun's not quite healed arm. "It's very unbecoming of you, you know. You're supposed to stick to knifing people in the back and stealing their items."
"You're one to talk," Daryl replies, gesturing towards a wolf -- unconscious from a hammer blow to the back of the head.
"That's just good battle tactics."
Sasuun and Homac are both smiling as well, the moment oddly close. Mikoto scrambles to her feet and together she and Daryl haul Sasuun up, making a face at his weight. He's steady enough on his feet to satisfy Mikoto, and she nods slightly.
"Okay, I think we're all fit enough to get on with this."
"Thanks to you," the black mage says, touching her arm. For a moment, she looks startled, and then smiles brightly -- in that way that Daryl finds, now, raises her spirits a little to see. Nothing much can be wrong with the world, in the end, if a girl like Mikoto can smile like that. Sasuun seems to be thinking the same thing, regarding her with an odd fondness.
"Let's go," he says, when he catches Daryl looking at him. He pushes Mikoto gently. "We've still got quite a way to go, even if we're optimistic."
"Aren't we?"
"Well, I'm not," Homac says, and the other three all try not to look too surprised that yes, yes, Homac spoke.
"You should be! We're going to save the world!"
"She's going to fall," Sasuun says, as Mikoto runs ahead, more childish than they've seen her yet. Daryl nods slightly, her mouth twitching into a smile; a natural one, not stolen or copied but found.
"You'd better run after her. We'll catch up."
Pairing: None
Warnings: None
Rating: G
Summary: The Four Warriors of Light don't exactly seem capable of a long quest together. For
ff_epicfic.Notes: I used the names my GBA game automatically assigned to them, Daryl, Sasuun, Mikoto and Homac, and the four default classes, thief, warrior, white mage and black mage. Hopefully, anything else you can pick up from the story.
"You look like you need a hand," Daryl says. Without waiting for the warrior's answer, she plunges into the battle, stabbing her knife hard into the wolf's body with a speed the warrior's movements can't match. She looks up, her smile a little feral and wild in its exuberance as the creature dies at her feet. "The name's Daryl. I'm a thief. I'm here to join you."
"Sasuun," the warrior replies, running a hand through his hair and pushing it back from his eyes. He regards her coolly for a moment, and she squirms under the unfamiliar scruntiny -- appraising, but not appreciative, not paying any attention to the way the men's clothes only accentuate her lean, lithe body. She finds herself flushing under his gaze, as she never does. "You have a shard of crystal?"
"Just as you do."
"Then it seems we're meant to travel together," he says, and his expression doesn't change.
The air smells strongly of burnt flesh. The young man stands there, his eyes blank, and then tips his chin up to meet Daryl's eyes. He seems oddly shapeless in his robes, as if he's unfinished, not quite human. "My name is Homac. I'm here to join you."
"You can certainly fight," she says, grudgingly admiring. He shrugs his shoulders. Sasuun stands at her side, regarding the newcomer critically.
"Do you have a crystal shard?"
Silently, the man draws back a sleeve of his robes and pulls out a shard, like and unlike theirs, glinting bright colours in the sun. As if in token, they show him their own, and Daryl tries to see even a flicker of interest in the mage's dark eyes. For a moment, they stand there, the sun shining through the gems and casting coloured patterns.
Sasuun has only just begun to wonder where this is all leading.
He doesn't say anything to his two companions.
"I'm here to join you," the girl says, in exactly the same way as the black mage and the thief said the same before her. She smiles at Sasuun, and he can see how hard she's trying. "You are the warrior, are you not? I am a white mage. I will be able to help you with my healing on the quest before us."
He nods. He would ask why, whether she knows more, but he knows that, really, she does not. She just feels the road stretching before them in exactly the same way he does. "Daryl and Homac are sleeping at the inn," he tells her. "Come along and wait with me for them to be ready." And then, after a pause, realising: "My name is Sasuun."
He pauses for a moment, but she doesn't reply and he can't tell what she's thinking. She looks fragile, like a pretty china doll with soft curling blond hair -- but thinks of all the magic that could be held inside such a tiny frail body, and doesn't ask her if she's sure. The determined look in her blue eyes says more than enough.
He turns to lead her to the inn.
"I don't believe it," the thief says, pulling her hair back and tying it into a ponytail. She ties a bandanna over her hair as well, looking up impatiently when no one answers her. The white mage smiles serenely, swinging her legs a little as she sits in the chair. She's small, frail, swamped in her white robes, and the thief has to hold back a snort of annoyance at the sight of her there like that.
Sasuun avoids her eyes, standing near the kid as if in protection. The black mage's face is completely blank -- not that that, in itself, is surprising. She sighs to herself. She's surprised to find herself even more annoyed by the sight of Sasuun there accepting the girl so easily, even seeming to like her.
"I can't believe it, I really can't. Here I am, on 'a quest of paramount importance', and my team members are an emotionless freak in an overlarge hat, a little girl who comes to shoulder height, and a mysterious warrior who barely talks and never smiles."
"Deal with it," the black mage says, unexpectedly.
Sasuun looks up. "Homac -- "
"How old are you, even?" Daryl asks the little white mage, ignoring the other two. Her tone is sharp. "What is your name? Can you even talk yet?"
"I'm fifteen," the girl says, surprising Daryl with the clearness of her voice, a calm confidence in her eyes. "My name is Mikoto. I'm a white mage and I hold a crystal. I'm coming with you whether you like it or not, so you might as well learn to trust me. You, however, as a thief, should probably be regarded with suspicion..."
"I don't steal from my companions," she says, the words tight.
Mikoto simply smiles again.
"I've heard talk from the guards who work from the nearby castle," Homac says, after a pause. "The king is looking for us. I heard that the princess has been kidnapped. Perhaps...?"
"Perhaps we should get some training in first," Sasuun says, not without a sideways glance of doubt at Mikoto. The white mage jumps to her feet, straightening out her robes, and smiles at him.
"It might help. I've heard thieves," sideways glance, tiny nod, "tend to be a bit light on the attack until they've had some experience. Maybe we ought to get some new equipment, as well. I only have a knife."
Daryl chooses not to answer that for a moment, holding her head a little higher. "We'll see," is all she says, as they move to leave the inn.
"You aren't half bad at fighting," Daryl says, to Mikoto, looking ahead to where the Princess Sarah walks with her hand on Sasuun's arm. "Better than Homac," she adds, a trifle bitterly. Trust a black mage to leave her defenceless in a fight. She clutches a bloodstained rag around her arm a little tighter, wishing the wound would stop throbbing. She's had worse, of course, but --
"Let me," Mikoto says, when she sees. She reaches up and puts a gentle hand on Daryl's arm. For a moment, her lips move and her eyes close, and then she opens her eyes and pulls her hand away and Daryl gasps at a flurry of tingles running through her arm. "Cure spell," the girl says in explanation, pulling away. For a moment, Daryl considers the girl, standing still to examine her face. Then, ahead of them, a monster leaps forward at Sasuun and the Princess and she runs forward to drag the Princess out of danger, without a second thought for Mikoto.
"Sasuun!"
A flurry of white sparks flurry around Sasuun, healing him as the white mage joins the fray. She's gripping a hammer tightly in her hand -- new equipment that Homac had bought for her, given her without a word. She wields it surprisingly well, beating back a goblin with a single blow, turning to grin at Daryl.
"Are you just going to stand there?"
Challenge offered in such terms, Daryl can't exactly refuse. She hesitates for a moment between knife or the newer, unfamiliar rapier, and finally pulls the latter, leaping forward to thrust it through a goblin about to attack Mikoto. "You should pay more attention."
"Thank you," Mikoto says -- for a moment, with surprising humility, before suddenly the crackle of thunder behind them draws their attention to the fact that both of them need to be paying more attention.
Homac looks at Daryl, his eyes impassive as ever. She shudders a little and decides not to go over and thank him.
"You work well together," the Princess says, trying to regain her composure as she smoothes out her skirt. Sasuun looks just about to laugh, and Daryl bites her lip.
"We're learning," Mikoto says, smiling her usual serene smile. Daryl has to wonder if anything phases that girl or if everything is simple and easy for her. She envies her composure -- almost.
"Where are we going?"
The wooden bridge is firm and new, the builder's smiles hopeful and bright, their salutes crisp and meaningful. Homac spoke in an undertone, for just the four of them, but Daryl glares at him all the same. "Not now, Homac. Wait."
Mikoto raises an eyebrow, and Daryl feels a vicious stab of the dislike she felt for her right at first. "When better? Perhaps someone here in Cornelia will be able to help us. We can't always rely on instinct, even though it has got us this far. Who told you this quest was so important? Or did you just feel it? Do you know anyone we can turn to once we leave this land?"
"Do you?"
"No, but that's my point."
"I don't think there's anyone that can really help us," Sasuun says. He shrugs. "Except maybe the person who made the prophecy. Luk -- Luka -- "
"Lukahn."
They look at each other for a moment, measuring everything so far against everything to come, trying to feel how much they can trust the intuition they have, the suggestion of where they should go that nudges within.
"That dancing girl knew a lot," Daryl says, doubtfully.
"Only for this area, I think," Mikoto says. Daryl looks at her, annoyed by the tone of her voice, even though she's smiling as usual, thoughtful and quiet. She doesn't seem to be mocking her or trying to show her up, but it feels like that all the same. "I think we are on our own. But I also think we have to... we have to trust each other. Talk to each other. Share everything we think of."
"I'll do it," Sasuun says, and then, quickly, "if you do."
Homac nods slightly. "It's necessary."
"I will too," Daryl mutters, reluctantly. It irks her, going along with Mikoto's suggestion.
Mikoto nods, thoughtful again, biting her lip. "I think we should go north. I'm not sure if there's something we should do there or whether it's a place we should just... go, and find out something, but it might..."
Sasuun nods, glancing around everybody for agreement. "North seems right to me."
North, of course, is fairly relative. It feels more like east at times, and sometimes south, because there's always vegetation, always something to stumble through, around or over. Daryl loses count of the number of times Sasuun leans down to help one of the mage's up after they've tripped over the hem of their own robes. She loses count of the number of times she's swatted at some annoying, buzzing bug, only to find that it'd already flown away.
She's lost count of the number of battles, the number of potions, the number of spells. She's lost count of the number of times Sasuun has frowned, the number of times Mikoto has smiled.
And she's almost -- almost -- forgotten to continue the monologue of dislike towards the young white mage.
"You're afraid to fail," Mikoto says, watching her, as she shakes out a tight-packed sleeping bag. Sasuun is out collecting firewood, and Homac is, apparently, asleep, breathing slowly and deeply. Daryl doesn't look up to see the smile she knows is there, smoothing out her sleeping bag and kicking aside a rock. "You're afraid that I'll turn out to be better at this than you, even though I'm younger."
"I -- "
"Don't deny it."
She does look up, now. "Stop trying to get inside my head."
"I hardly need to try," she says, laughing a little. She jumps up -- almost falling over her own robe again, and automatically Daryl reaches to steady her. Smiling a thanks, she gets out her own sleeping bag, lowering her voice a little. "I'm afraid of failing, too. My parents have no idea where I am. You try not to show it, just like me. It's hard. We'd be better helping each other, rather than..."
"Snipping at each other all the time?"
"That's right," she says, smiling again, "snipping."
"I don't know if I can do that," Daryl says, thoughtfully, but there's a teasing look in her face and an edge to her voice now. She pushes gently at Mikoto's shoulder. "Don't be scared."
"I know. You and Homac and Sasuun will look after me. And we'll look after you."
It's true, Daryl realises: she will look after Mikoto. Has, already, been looking after her. And the others have all been looking out for her, even in her fits of temper -- Mikoto's spells, quiet and unobtrusive as she jumps into battle, Sasuun at her side and Homac behind, supporting, a steady foundation. She smiles a little, wonders if she looks anything like Mikoto when she does. "I suppose so."
Mikoto says, "Don't suppose, just know," and Daryl is surprised to find that she doesn't mind that little serene smile quite so much now she knows that really, Mikoto isn't completely untouched -- that she's afraid.
"Here you go," Daryl says, handing Homac a potion. Mikoto is busying herself with Sasuun's wounds, a look of concentration on her face. "We'll be getting to an inn soon, I'm sure. It looks as if there's a town up ahead."
"Thank you," the black mage says, almost but not quite meeting her eyes. She's surprised to catch a smile there, hovering at the corners of his mouth, and she stands up to busy herself with something else to think about. She raises an eyebrow at Mikoto.
"You had a patient here, too, you know."
"You've been stealing even my job?" Mikoto asks, looking up at her as she finishes fixing a bandage around Sasuun's not quite healed arm. "It's very unbecoming of you, you know. You're supposed to stick to knifing people in the back and stealing their items."
"You're one to talk," Daryl replies, gesturing towards a wolf -- unconscious from a hammer blow to the back of the head.
"That's just good battle tactics."
Sasuun and Homac are both smiling as well, the moment oddly close. Mikoto scrambles to her feet and together she and Daryl haul Sasuun up, making a face at his weight. He's steady enough on his feet to satisfy Mikoto, and she nods slightly.
"Okay, I think we're all fit enough to get on with this."
"Thanks to you," the black mage says, touching her arm. For a moment, she looks startled, and then smiles brightly -- in that way that Daryl finds, now, raises her spirits a little to see. Nothing much can be wrong with the world, in the end, if a girl like Mikoto can smile like that. Sasuun seems to be thinking the same thing, regarding her with an odd fondness.
"Let's go," he says, when he catches Daryl looking at him. He pushes Mikoto gently. "We've still got quite a way to go, even if we're optimistic."
"Aren't we?"
"Well, I'm not," Homac says, and the other three all try not to look too surprised that yes, yes, Homac spoke.
"You should be! We're going to save the world!"
"She's going to fall," Sasuun says, as Mikoto runs ahead, more childish than they've seen her yet. Daryl nods slightly, her mouth twitching into a smile; a natural one, not stolen or copied but found.
"You'd better run after her. We'll catch up."
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