skaikru | inbox @ comesailaway

Of course! It wasn't a quick decision. Our first conversation was just so fascinating and I learned so much about you so quickly. Even now! You're truly a radiant person, Clarke.

[ ....Look he's just like this. ]

( it's frustrating beyond measure, and he shouldn't be like this — for his own safety, honestly. they've been at their weird dance around morality and ethics long enough, crossed paths often enough, and he's praised the idea of clarke griffin without really knowing the depths of her person enough that... it feels like it's time to confront that. this is her best attempt at a rude awakening. )

Our first conversation was built around hypotheticals, Mizuki. Those aren't a reliable window into someone's soul — you should have asked me how many people I have killed, instead of if I'd kill them.

( for there is no radiance, only the cloying shadow of death everywhere she goes. )

I don't think how many people you killed is a good measure of if someone is a good or bad person, though. Learning a number doesn't tell me anything. I could guess you might be a serial killer, or I could guess that you've been in war, or that you're an executioner, a tactician, a warrior, a survivor. I could make any number of guesses based on a number. But if you tell me the whys, and let me pick your brain to figure out how it works... then I know who you are. I don't need to know a number.

[ He gets... perhaps uncomfortably close to Clarke to look her in the eye. There are slight movement of his own as he studies her, but for the most part, they try to stay locked on her gaze. ]

You have a lot on your mind. And you access a situation so quickly, making decisions that filter through experiences that you've suffered through. And I'm very sorry you had to go through those things, but this quick thinking you have is... important. You're kind. You're understanding. You're compassionate. You can make decisions even if they hurt. I want them to hurt a little less if I'm here, too.

( what's a little lack of personal space between friends, right? up close and personal, mizuki may be privy to the way that fierce burning in blue irises looks eerily similar to a wet threat of tears just beneath the surface. if he leans forward, clarke leans back a little, jutting out her chin like she intends to stand like a stone in the middle of the ocean, impervious to the gentle way waves lap at its sides with encouraging whispers to — just break a little. just sink.

and she's shaking her head before even realizing she'd given her neck permission to move. it's a good thing you're not in charge here, because when you're in charge people die, rings in her ears in a tone so distinctly bellamy blake, she almost looks around for him in the shadows of the room.

mizuki speaks about decisions and fast thinking like it's anything to be proud of, rather than the desperate grasping of someone who didn't want to die and became desensitized to the means required to reach that end. her luck had finally run out back home, only to start over here with a blank slate and the immortality she'd sometimes wished for back on earth. and yet — )

I'm so tired of making decisions.

( will she stop making them? not a chance. in this moment, will her shoulders sag a little and the line of her mouth wobble? absolutely, with gusto and another ooze of wetness into her eyelashes. )

[ He doesn't move closer, he just watches her for a while. He wonders how long she's been doing this for. He wonders how long it's taken to get her to this point. The Doctor... well, they got amnesia. He wonders if maybe part of the reason is because they also crumpled under this pressure? He didn't know the specifics, after all, but...

...

He does, eventually, try to reach a hand out again, and while he doesn't just grab all willy-nilly like he usually does, he does offer it out to her all the same. ]

Then you don't have to make them alone anymore.

( that proffered hand is as alluring as the pull of together that mizuki offers. even as she stands with two feet firmly planted on the floor, it feels like the world's swaying in front of her eyes a little. how lovely it would be, to be unerringly supported. how nice it would be, to not feel so alone all the time...

but clarke is intimately familiar with what happens to the people she chooses to align herself with. just because this boat isn't her earth doesn't mean patterns change or life gets any easier. he's offering her a hand, absolution, someone to lean on, and a vicious weapon constantly hanging to her right. if she took up any of those offers, the next logical step would to somehow be responsible for his death, and she doesn't... want that.

can't take his hand, no matter how long her gaze lingers on the creases in his gloved palm — he'd have to take the full initiative here. can't willingly accept a blindly faithful ally, can't actually accept that she's made new friends here if it ultimately means losing them all over again... )

I don't think you'd like most of the choices I make, Mizuki. I think you'd fight me on them, and would probably be right. And then end up hating me for going through with it anyway, just like everyone else has.

[ This immediately gets Mizuki to shake his head. ]

I won't. I'll listen to you. And if you need a second opinion on something, I'll be there. If you don't want the opinion at all, just need something done, I'll be there for that, too. [ And, yes, he'll close the distance to take Clarke's hand in his own now. A comforting squeeze to follow. ] If there's anyone on this ship who understands that decisions are hard and the right choice might not look like the right one after all, it's me. I'll put my faith in you. And you can put yours in me, too, I promise.

( that wet threat in her eyes finally crosses the line to the actual manifestation of tears — one on each waterline, not yet ready to fall but absolutely present and glinting in the lighting of the cabin. )

I don't think I've done anything to earn that faith, ( comes the rueful undercut of his declaration. but at the same time, who is she to look a gift horse in the mouth and deny the strength of allies in the middle of a war zone. whether either of them comes to regret this companionship is a problem for later. right now he's crushing her hand with sentiment, and clarke's actively working to return a weak squeeze of her own. )

...But I'll try to be worthy of it. But please remember that you can always — always walk away from this.

[ There's a little tilt of his head. He wants to argue with her about that, especially since he is very attached to the faith he puts in people, but now isn't the time to do so. He doesn't need to tell Clarke these things. He just needs the chance to show her. And, until then, he can just be here, for moments like this. ]

I'll keep that in mind. [ Will he do anything with it? No. But he can at least listen to her now and ensure whatever he can. ] But, Clarke, just know you don't have anything to prove to me. Or to anyone else. Okay?

( but she does.

she does, she does, she does. one, two, or ten times over. because she hadn't asked for the weight of leadership, but has grown accustomed to it in the past year. and how could she inspire anyone to follow her if she couldn't prove to them that it was worth it.

that she'd keep them alive.

that all her terrible, inhumane battle decisions were all for the betterment of humanity in the end. that her intentions were good, even if the realities didn't always line up with them. mizuki wants to argue with her, and clarke wants to argue right back. but settles for doggedly shaking her head, flyaway strands of blonde hair whipping about her jawline. )

No one here is asking me to lead them. ( which is a lot like home, but she'd been much more willing to demand the mantel of commander there without knowing what it meant. ) Everything I've chosen to do has just been on my own whims, and at my own discretion. If I end up being right, I do have to prove it to all the people here, and then maybe we can act as one unified front.

[ Mizuki lulls his head for a moment, trying his best to not argue with Clarke here. Those are some very good points she made, ~~but Mizuki can just make them listen.~~

...

All the same, he nods, squeezing Clarke's hand a bit. ]

Then unified we'll be. And I'll do what I can to make that happen, and make sure your voice is heard.

[ If that's what Clarke wants, after all, then it should be Mizuki's top priority. That's just how this works now, he doesn't make the rules. She's so valiant, and so selfless, to do these things and take on such a burden. If there's any, any, any way he can ease it... Any way he can make her smile after all this is over... ]

Though, if I may, I do have a request, Clarke.

( a request?

the thought undermines this regularly scheduled episode of self loathing and internalized doubt, if only enough to cue a deep inhale. )

I — what?

[ Mizuki reaches his other hand over to sandwich hers between them and gives a small laugh. ]

Can I stay here with you for a little while? I'm not sure I wanna be alone right now.

[ Just to be support for a little while. Maybe get some blankets to pile on her. Convince her to take a nap. All under the guise of doing it for himself. ]

( ...okay, the undermining of her current meltdown is prolonged, because of all the things mizuki could have said, that wasn't the request she would have expected. clarke blinks stupidly for a moment or two, and even starts to shake her head from side to side in disbelief. maybe the beginnings of a rejection, becsuse in this moment it feels so, so inviting to be left alone in a dark room to weep without anyone seeing her.

but. duty. )

Don't you have more antitoxins to give out?

No one's gonna get poisoned today, don't worry.

[ Let Mizuki reiterate: I'm not leaving you. Not like this. Please, don't be sad. ]

Besides, it's better this way. If I'm not feeling well, I might forget to tell them something important.

( but sad is her baseline.

his request has clarke looking around the confines of 108 and realizing she's literally never had a purely social call here. it's not a place brimming with exciting things to do, she doesn't even have a deck of cards and the television is perpetually switched off. her roommate doesn't do much and hasn't acquired a lot of items on board either, but clarke's half of the room is still ridiculously hoarded with useless items in the name of survival. and the walls are papered with a dozen pages from notebooks with notes, rough drawn maps, and lists. she's very aware that there is literally nothing to do here other than occasionally sleep, and murderboard. it isn't comfy, it isn't homey, it isn't even welcoming.

but none of that equates a refusal to someone who says they're in need. )

Um. Sure.

What kind of not feeling well? Do you want a glass of water?

( don't mind her, shoving anxiety down with a sniff and slipping into the comfort of a leader/caretaker role. )

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