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( that polite knock is answered with relative promptness.

the door to 108 is as unimpressive as ever, and once cracked open, the backdrop of rabid murderboarding is relatively unchanged as well. she's gotten a new roommate since mizuki had last visited, but ruby rose was used to close quarters and didn't take up a lot of space. the walls are still papered with the same ripped edges of composition style lists, maps, and sketches. the furniture is exactly the same as every other cabin, but the master bed is mussed and there's a nest of blankets and pillows on the far floor. the delicate dangle of origami butterflies is hung right above the porthole window that stares out onto the impassible ocean-scape like an eye that never blinks. desk littered with scraps of paper, a few errant bullets, and milk cartons of dirt and faux foliage from sleepaway camp.

in the doorway, clarke is pretty much the same. the cuts across her ribcage and upper arm have been bandaged and are currently clothed in a black long-sleeved athleisure number from tommy bahama, but the puff of gauze is still noticeable if one knows where to look. unlike her, ebalon hadn't gone for the face; there's no spectacular, unhealed bruises so to speak of. the blood in her across her head has long since been washed out, and the scab from being cut by the impact of his staff is hidden in her hair.

contrary to the usual mix of pleasant surprise and confusion that decorates her features when mizuki shows up on her doorstep, clarke's features are relatively slack. resigned, expecting an argument and appropriately unexcited for the prospect. but she still offers a vague wave of the hand, an unspoken invitation: come in. then turns her back and retreats to the desk chair. )

[ It's good to know that she's healing well. He's still a little upset that Ebalon didn't just heal her then and there, if he's being honest, but he supposes that he would be reluctant to do so in Ebalon's shoes, too. After all, Mizuki understands better than anyone that need to make people hurt when he is hurting himself. But it still sucks to see Clarke so battered. He should've stepped in sooner, but he just… keeps messing up. When will he ever do right by her? Is this… working out at all? He isn't sure. It's enough to make his head spin. He goes to grip his umbrella out of nerves and to calm himself, but… forgets that it's currently with a certain bard. He has to settle for fiddling with the ribbon that keeps his rain poncho tied around him, then.

He steps inside, closing the door behind him. ]

Clarke. [ There's a lot of things he needs to address. He isn't going to start with the elephant in the room, actually, but rather, the most pressing question in his mind: ] Why did you break into Ebalon's room?

( oh.

a peppering of surprise burns across her soul, reflected in the slightest break in impassible composure; the faint way her eyebrows arch and the slight sliver of pursed lips to show the firm-set line of teeth beneath. she'd been braced for an interrogation over her blatant rule breaking during laser tag, and maybe the subsequent storm off once caught. but it's true, that hadn't been her only transgression against the moon mage in a twenty-four hour timespan. and if she thought hard enough about it, she really shouldn't be surprised he told mizuki immediately. heavy weighs the hand of unimpeded honestly, but free of the curse clarke can just shrug and excuse her actions like a normal person. )

Because he was out, and I could.

( that's... honestly pretty close to the rationalization of hangover rage, but still not entirely open. it's an odd sort of disconnect, looking at mizuki and simultaneously seeing a confidant and the boyfriend of maybe her least favorite — least trusted — passenger still on board. clarke folds both arms aross her chest, equal parts defiant and a faux sort of self soothing. )

I just wanted to look through his things. I didn't take anything. And honestly I think it's weird no one else has done that yet.

[ That's… certainly an answer, he supposes. But he doesn't take "because I could, lol" as a very good one. He isn't sure how to process it, either, simply staring back at Clarke. There used to be such reverence in that gaze, no matter what. His commander, his obsession, someone he would gladly follow into battle, someone he literally tortured someone for—

That image is somewhat tarnished by "someone who aggressed and broke my boyfriend's nose" and "someone who fucked my other boyfriend". He's not over the latter thing, though he doesn't blame Clarke for it consciously. Subconsciously, though, minds are so fickle. He almost wants a reason to be angry, like someone who's raving about an ex-friend and there's so many "And another thing!!!" thrown in here and there. This isn't Mizuki, of course, as he's more prone to jumping through as many hoops as he possibly can. ]

I'm sorry, I don't understand… Why is that weird, exactly? [ Respecting one's privacy isn't… weird, Clarke. ] I've been in there many times, you could have just… asked me. To break his door and be in a space uninvited would upset anyone immensely.

( at some point between interdimensional kidnapping, organ stealing, forced truths, routinely un- and re-dressed while unconscious, the whole thing where both friday and the captain are unapologetic know-it-all's, the idea of personal privacy kinda seemed like it's just. died. did people still have some sort of expectation they were entitled to some sort of safe haven? and it's another consequence of showing the full scope of his powers on the island; ebalon's got a reputation, and celebrities are bound to lose slivers of their private life to rabid fans.

but, no, this was all mostly about the sigils. )

I did ask you, Mizuki. But it seemed like you were busy, and I was tired of waiting.

( quick vibe check: is it more invasive to break and enter someone's bedroom, or to ask their boyfriend to spy on them and report back? )

You had told me to ask him about sigils, not to plunder his room? Besides, I-… I was sick there for a little while, there wasn't much I could do and… [ And then he set up laser tag, admittedly, but surely Clarke understood that the ship needed a little bit of a morale boost after feeling so miserable for this stretch of time, right? It couldn't be just Mizuki who thought that. ] Though, once again, I find that hard to believe, especially considering what happened previously.

[ 'I think you were mad, and you were irrationally taking it out in the worst way possible, and now you've made things worse.' He doesn't know how to say that in a kinder way, though. He doesn't… want to be upset here. He doesn't want to scold her. He's already very bad at those things. Especially so, when Clarke is someone he thought to be his superior. Though, admittedly, maybe they're on much more even footing than he initially thought. ]

If you are mad at me, I wish you would just tell me instead of… of taking it out on Ebalon. He hadn't meant to fight you when he approached you…

( they'd very much started on even footing, even while stationed on a metaphorical staircase. then it was mizuki's deference and propensity for blind hero worship that urged clarke to perceive herself as having taken one or two steps up; then her own mistakes and really shitty impulse control that sent her two and a half steps back down. )

I'm not mad. Not at you. ( like, seriously, what? 95% of the time she thinks of mizuki it's still an overwhelming, smothering sort of guilt that clarke feels. like with raven reyes, after she'd put finn collins out of his misery — why do i always do this?

even the previous catty implication she'd been impatient because of slacking sigil reports hadn't really been accurate; maybe there'd been an undercurrent of frustration at the wait, but it'd been dealt with and she'd gotten them herself, so they were good. teaser of her own internal justification, that this was somehow for the greater good and the pursuit of magical knowledge, but that hadn't been an action taken with mizuki at the forefront of her mind, and now she's pinching her brow. )

I'm — none of this was about you.

[ If Mizuki were a bitter or less polite boy, there'd be a "Well, maybe it should have been." Maybe he should have been considered at any point? Maybe fighting in the middle of a game he worked so hard to set up was a bad idea? Maybe, on top of this, that fight involving one of his boyfriends should have rung as an even worse idea? Maybe she should have had the sense to tell Ebalon, who had egged her on after she got aggressive, that she had respected Mizuki enough to not ruin his game like that? Maybe she should have had the decency to not disrespect the place he sleeps too because she was pissy about a fight? Maybe she shouldn't then lie about the reason she broke into Ebalon's room, as if the sigil thing was what spurred her on to begin with?

There's a lot of things to start yelling at Clarke for. There's a lot of things he should be feeling. There's a lot of negativity that needs to clear the air. But Mizuki is not bitter. Mizuki is not impolite. Mizuki is, in fact, the type of person to jump over so many hurdles to prove the person he cares for is not a bad person, even if they are. He just… might have gotten stuck on this last hurdle, after getting so many in quick succession. Give him some time to get back up, he'll keep running the track.

He opens his mouth to respond, but a pause makes him close it to reconsider. He mulls it over. Then why… the ones I care about? Why my boyfriends? Why, when so many other people have— ]

Okay. [ … ] Then, I'm sure you know that I'm… still really upset about this. Not just the room thing. The fight during tag, too. I don't have to tell you that… none of that was okay, right?

( laser tag had been a wonderfully sweet idea. but that didn't necessarily translate to a good one. taking a mismatched set of people with different interpretations of violence, some spoiling for conflict and others braced, ready to react to any hint of a fight in kind — then somehow expecting them not to clash? in clarke's opinion, that lacked foresight. they were literally suspended on a ship in the middle of a fake ocean that promises them nothing but war and strife, and he'd gone and organized a wargame.

it almost smacks of stede bonnet forming a pirate crew, just to intermingle with the captain during the meetings and making them put on a talent show. but at least with mizuki, contempt isn't a factor; she doesn't want to see him fall on his face in the course of learning just how flawed the bridge he's built is.

there's no real avenue for the two of them to see eye to eye on the subject of ebalon. one looks at him and sees a beloved companion — a husband, the poorly google translated notes around that soul binding spell would indicate — and the other only sees a perpetual and unpredictable threat. the only, and i mean only way the thought mizuki really factors into clarke's agenda is that she's not even considered killing him and just showing up at his bedside every morning at 6am sharp to do it all over again. and sees fit to keep his name as far out of her mouth as possible when arguing. (had seen that drafted love letter in ebalon's notebook, and it'd been possibly one of the only pages that hadn't been photographed; not what she was looking for, not her business.)

this isn't about you, because if it is, that gets messy. )

I'm sorry you're upset, Mizuki.

( tone flat but sentiment honest, even if that isn't properly communicated past the stony set of her face. that will notably be the only thing clarke apologizes for here. )

[ Clarke out here with the coldest of takes on laser tag. Really, it sounds like that kid that was yelling “this is war propaganda” around the game, and got met with several “shut the fuck up”s from people who know it was… well, a game. Mizuki would’ve even let Jenny play and not thought anything more of it, and he fucking hates Jenny??

Though, even if she had said that out loud to give Mizuki ammunition for a rebuttal (ammunition that, for the record, would have gone to waste, because Mizuki doesn’t have a metaphorical gun), it still wouldn’t have been enough to take off the blow that her actual words had. Sorry… he’s upset? As if he isn’t justifiably so? As if he’s not allowed to be upset that she brought down the mood on his game, or that she met playfulness with aggression, or that she actively sought to hurt his boyfriend who’s been trying so hard to fix his mistakes?

He deflates a bit. ]

No. It’s… [ … ] I-I am… confused. I don’t understand. I want to believe you. But this is… it’s so much, Clarke. Why do you want to see him hurt so bad? What do you think that will accomplish? Even if he continued to do awful things from the island onwards, do you think that even then making enemies with him is a good idea, when death means nothing? That’s just how you get hurt, Clarke. And I don’t want you to get hurt, I’m trying really hard to protect you, too.

…

I know you don’t believe me — I know no one does, but I really am being honest when I say he’s getting better. Doing better.

[ And he swears to holy fuck if she brings up the fight as if she expects Ebalon to just let his face get beat in… ]

( bringing a knife/moon beam spear to a fist fight is gauche no matter how you cut it, but she's not going to argue that fact. not here.

regardless of how much mizuki's reigning in, he still unleashes a veritable torrent from his mouth. a lot of questions that she probably doesn't have good, reasonable answers to. it's uncomfortable, being under the spotlight of judgement, but not an unfamiliar seat for clarke to sit in while it relentlessly heats up under her. )

Better isn't the same as good enough.

( that'd require a lot more than an apology letter. from clarke's personal standpoint, it'd be more like throwing himself in front of a bullet to save a group of school children or something — no magic shields, no illusion; just a measurable display of pure selflessness that could jumpstart some forgiveness arc — and currently she doubts he has the capacity.

her expression is relatively impassive; stony, a poker face that's hard-set around the edges of her mouth, and just plain hard in the eyes. )

I get that you love him, Mizuki. I hope the two of you can be some measure of happiness in your marriage. But you need to understand — regardless of all of that, you'll never be able to make people like or forgive him.

[ It's not as if Mizuki wants to judge Clarke. On the complete opposite end of the spectrum, this sort of seat is completely foreign to Mizuki. He is not judge or jury, he can only really comfortably fill the role of executioner. Even then, can an executioner without a judge do it's job? Can Mizuki really turn to scrutinize who he picked as his judge?

But this Jenga tower of trust certainly toppled over for now. Shouldn't have pulled out so many bricks in one god, Clarke! That's now even how you play Jenga?! ]

Progress doesn't happen overnight, Clarke. I'm still working on myself, too. [ He's not 'good enough,' either. Especially since he thinks a lot like Ebalon does. Just because he hasn't shown that side to Clarke doesn't mean it's not there. ]

I-

Edited 2022-08-02 17:02 (UTC)

[ Beat. ]

— Marriage? [ … ?????????????????? ] W-what are… We aren't… married.

[ Mizuki needs a moment to get over that, actually, whatever the rest of that sentence was, he'll process it later. ]

( it's how toddlers play jenga, let's not pretend she's above temper tantrums.

she's got her mouth open to spew out something petulant and set on a double standard. something like: you're different, you're my friend, you haven't hurt anyone i care about. but apparently she's found one more wooden brick to topple, and this one lands squarely on confusion for mizuki. which in turn confuses clarke right back.

she. blinks. slowly, then pulls an expression of disbelief. )

...what do you mean you're not married? ( mizuki gets she was after sigils, there's no need to obfuscate here. ) I saw his spell and notes.

[ Pardon the internal screaming for a moment, he's just having a hard time with this. He's supposed to be upset with Clarke. He's supposed to berate her for breaking into Ebalon's room. He's supposed to try and reach some sort of agreement or understanding with her and probably hug it out. Instead, here he is, getting flustered. His face heats pretty instantly, and he's fiddling with his fingers now. He wishes he had his umbrella, fuck… ]

Uhm, that was… We're… It's not marriage. It's… [ He gestures to his eyes — specifically, to the blue rings that are now around them. ] W-we're soulbonded.

[ Mizuki, you see how that's worse… ]

Edited 2022-08-04 04:33 (UTC)

( the slowest — s l o w e s t — tilt of the head. eyes squinted, flicking upwards as she tries to remember the babel fish translated version of ebalon's magical evocation, and... yeah, no, it'd definitely said wed. but here's the other groom, denying any official binding legal process. and instead...

the fuck is a soul bonding??? )

Is that... different?

( admittedly, interest is peaked. clarke doesn't know what soul-bonding entails, but it seems a whole hell of a lot more useful than a wedding. )

… Yeah. It, uh… it pulls a piece of your soul off to swap with the other… [ Which is why his eyes are like that to begin with. Eyes are the window to the soul and all that.

But right now he feels a bit dumb. He should explain this more, but where does he even start? What did Ebalon say again? There really wasn't much to it, but… ] I'm… a little sturdier? Er… if either of us dies, it'd probably… hurt the other one real bad, too. But, it's… [ … ] I guess someone could interpret it as a wedding…? 'Cause it's just meant to be a union of souls, literally.

…

Uh, we can also feel each other's emotions and stuff.

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