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[Flatly:] Yes. But not like this.

[Iwao Maeda, knocked out and thrown outside for the sun to do the rest. Tatsumi, killed in the same explosion that took Natsuno's life. And dozens of other shiki who were slaughtered because he helped the village doctor escape their influence and expose them for what they were. Their blood is on his hands.

He doesn't regret it. They all got what they deserved, himself included.]

Hm.

( a small sound of acknowledgement, devoid of any judgement. it's good to know, really — death looked the same after a while, no matter the instrument used to exact it, so this at least spares them the conversation about what it's like that first time. they've both already lived it.

but, she'd made a promise and here, out in the night air with a weapon heavy in hand, feels an appropriate time to follow through on it. )

Wanheda means Commander Of Death.

( a brush of her thumb along the backing of the slide, for emphasis. )

Sometimes like this, but not always.

( and if clarke looks a little dark-green around the gills for divulging that, it's because she hates the means, action of, and end result of earning that title. she regrets all of it, but if faced with those options again, would probably pull the same levers and triggers to get to where she has. )

[Commander of Death. He can fit that in, somehow. Bold, angry, comes from a future where everything is on fire... she's someone who made tough decisions before.]

...the people who took yours hostage.

Mostly, but not always.

( and if it wasn't abundantly clear how deep her well of shame ran in regard to those hard decisions and the blood left on her hands after they were made, clarke is very pointedly not looking anywhere close to natsuno. doesn't want to watch anyone else's face go from friendly to disgusted or scared at the sight of her. desperately wants to be understood, but doesn't want to push the topic.

clarke makes a heavy, wet sniff. )

I didn't want that reputation, but once I had it, I used it. ( with varying degrees of success, the most recent failure being brushed off by their most recent captor. )

[Natsuno turns to look at her. She wants his... what? Absolution? Judgement? He can give neither. They don't know each other's circumstances - not really.]

Better than running away from it.

[He looks back at the dark ocean, silent for a few moments.]

I knew people I cared about would get hurt because of my actions. [His father, losing his only son for the second time. Kaori, forced to kill her own father. Tohru, dead for good.] I did it anyway.

[Three more shots.]

Everyone makes choices. All we can do is stand behind ours.

( ask her that question outright, and clarke would insist she wanted nothing from him. maybe just to erase one of the mysteries on this ship and, again, offer natsuno an out. if he didn't like the idea of being saddled with a repeat genocidal murderer for a partner here, he shouldn't have to deal with it just because their circumstance didn't offer any alternatives.

but at the same time, absolution has a certain draw to it. not that forgiveness from anyone other than herself would ever truly stick, and clarke is never going to give that to herself. it would cheapen the suffering she'd caused, and the dead deserved their pound of flesh.

for now, she'll take his response as a thin strand of empathy, and use it to strengthen her resolve that — yup. it was time to knuckle down and repeat hard choices and bloody choices all over again, as their situation would come to demand. )

Given the option, would you make those same choices over again?

Yes.

[Given the option, he'd avoid the situation that forced these choices in the first place - but that wasn't up to him.

The way Natsuno sees it, he made the choices he made because of the person he is. So he would do it again.]

Does it matter, though? No one gets a do-over. No guarantees the alternative would be better. We make our choices and live with them.

No, I know there's no do-overs.

( teleport her through time and space right back to the moment she burnt an entire army alive, or irradiated an entire population? no, clarke would not do a single thing differently. but those bloody moments had earned her the title of wanheda and sometimes she has to wonder — )

I get caught up, though. On wondering if I hadn't made those first few difficult decisions, maybe none of the rest of them would have happened. Or that maybe they could have been someone else's calls to make.

( she'd been holding her own gun at her side, running her thumb along the back of the slide in some unconscious attempt to ground herself in this reality, and not go spiraling into age old what if's and what could have been's. for a break from conversation, she levels her weapon out beyond the guard rail and fires three more times to match his cluster. the need to do something, to act out, to fight a little here — is overwhelming, but clarke comes back from it feeling none the more confident.

but maybe a tad more centered. )

Then the next one pops up, and it's just easier if I make the call. And I'm reminded, every time, that I'd do it willingly — over and over again — so long as it meant the people I cared about wouldn't have to bear that responsibility.

( the weight of it, it's soul crushing. )

...I never felt like this.

[His choices were more selfish. Death was the only option and he never let himself think of the what if's.]

I couldn't bear the responsibility, at first, but couldn't let anyone else do it either. [If you can't become a hunter, you'll have ti become a victim.] It only made things worse.

So I don't think it's as bad as you're making it sound. Making the call so they wouldn't... I think it's brave.

( the what if's and the ghostly figured she'd left in her wake are the main reason clarke struggles to sleep, even in a stretch of reality so far removed from that which she was born around.

likewise, if you can't kill you get killed. if you can't be the person driving the tank, you end up a body in the mound along the side of the road. dog eat dog, morals shift, atrocities happen — yet life goes on. until one day it just suddenly stops. )

I don't think it can be called bravery when it's a necessity and you hate ( yourself for ) it.

Edited 2022-04-06 06:56 (UTC)

And when it's not a necessity and you don't hate it, it's called evil.

[He sighs.]

Maybe it doesn't matter how you call it. [Arguing about semantics is hardly the point, after all, and Natsuno can't presume to know everything she's been through.] But... do you really have to carry that alone?

( another hard, wet sniff. but this time when clarke finally drags her gaze from the back of her own hand, it's a tight sort of sentimental expression on her face: a thin smile, knit brows, damp and glossy eyes, and beyond it all — a fond sort of remembrance. )

The people who'd carry it with me are the ones I want to protect from it the most.

( none of us is innocent, maya had breathed out as she died. and that may be true, but not everyone needed to suffer guilt on top of their grief. this was leadership, shouldering the load and never putting it down. this is... not what she'd signed up for, but the role she'd willingly stepped into when they'd been left without any other options. )

I don't always get my way with that, but. I do what I can for them.

( read: i'd do literally anything for them. )

[He can respect that. Not empathy, but sympathy. His own circumstances make it easy to forget other passengers have people and places to come back to.]

I hope you'll find a way back to them.

[Y'know. Hope you're not ACTUALLY dead and they're not all burned to ash.]

( that's a sweet sentiment and everything, but is undermined by clarke's own self loathing and the acknowledgement that she's changed from a bright eyed, optimistic teenage girl into an instinctual instrument of death.

natsuno is being favored with a side-long, almost rueful smile. )

I hope they don't need me anymore.

( and this has all been lovely, but entirely too open and vulnerable so, a somewhat immediate misdirect. )

Want to try hitting a target? ( behind them is the stretch of deck that leads back to the doors into the ships interior. there's bound to be some sort of lighting fixture illuminating the entrance, and that's what clarke jerks her thumb at. ) Put the lights out.

[Back to business, then. Natsuno respects that, too. He follows suit without missing a beat.]

Sure.

[Lightning fixture it is. He'll need to aim a little higher for that. Natsuno aims carefully, taking a few moments to find what he thinks is the right position before pulling the trigger.

It's not dead center, but the fixture is big enough that it shatters anyway.]

( a killshot doesn't need to be dead center, it just needs to shred enough bone and tissue to get past the point of no return. as far as clarke's concerned, that's a really good shot. a really good shot actually. )

For someone who'd never shot a gun before tonight ( DOUBT, the look she favors him with — now that they've neatly folded the traumatic portion of this conversation back into it's own place — is dubious, but tinged with an edge of impressed. ) you're pretty good at this.

It's different — it's always different when you actually shoot another living thing. But your form's good, and you have a good eye.

[A good eye. His eyes are better than a human's, but he didn't actually think being a supernatural apex predator will be useful for shooting things, too. Thanks, he hates it.]

It'll be different with other inanimate objects, too.

[Smaller, further, in a closed space where bullets ricochet...]

...what do you do when it's a living thing?

( the immediate answer, jaded and detached: )

You point, and you pull.

( but clarke hears how her own words sounds coming out of her mouth, and winces. offers an apologetic half-smile, and starts again. )

Ideally, if it's another person you're going to shoot, you've exhausted all other options. Escape, diplomacy, non-lethal alternatives... And once you're in a corner with no other choices, it's —

( obvious? easy? the only thing to do? understandable? survival instincts take over, and maybe guilt will creep in later. it really does just come down to pointing and pulling the trigger, but the emotional whiplash still smarts. looking back for some of natsuno's own words regarding choice and consequence, clarke lands on: )

In the moment, you make that choice — either choice, really. And then you get to live with it, for however much longer you live.

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