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[ When Sakamoto sees Carol, it's the sympathy that hits him first, worry and pity following in close on its heels. She looks haggard, tired, drained. She looks like a bird with its wings clipped, a flower wilted from the cold. A strange, ineffable something wells up in his chest, coils around tight like a knot in his ribcage, a stone. ]

Carol.

[ He hadn't planned it, is the thing, but it happens anyway. (Hadn't that always been his way? Unpredictable, full of surprises, a true clown and idiot?) The distance between them closes, becomes extinguished entirely when he lifts arms, wrapping them around Carol in an embrace both close and tight. He's put the joking aside for now, the exaggerated and theatrical amorous displays.

This is reassurance, this gesture. This is support, a wordless overture to say Hey, I'm here. It's okay. ]

( it's been hours since she stopped crying, ran out of tears to cry, and she's long since begun occupying the couch—she doesn't sleep ( and when she dozes off, she awakes right after—screaming ) nor does she really pay attention, simply huddling in the red coat that's too, too large for her.

the only thing that makes her attentive now is the sound of voices—carol's speaking to someone who came. someone who came? who could that be?

slowly, lily blinks as she sits upright, peering over with idle, dull curiosity, but from her angle it's really the words that she's more on the lookout for. can she recognize this voice?

when she hears sakamoto, lily's eyes open wide, and red clumps of fabric bunch up from her grip of the corners. she should be quiet. she should wait until carol's finished talking with him. she should wait, but lily is fourteen years old and even younger mentally, and she can't wait, not for good things. )

Tatsuma!

[it's unexpected, bordering on unfamiliar (when was the last time someone hugged her? before she came here, definitely, who had it even been?) -- but it's so, so needed, and as his arms close tight around her carol feels something small and guttering inside of her struggle, kick, flare feebly back into life.

the coffee mug is forgotten in her hand against his back as carol returns the hug, digging her fingers into his coat, burying her face in his shoulder. warm, warm, human contact, it surprises her how starved she is for it.

a sharp intake of breath, like teetering on the verge of crying -- but it releases itself shakily instead, and carol just -- hugs, and breathes, and feels so, so... small, and young, and strange and reassured. this is -- he's--

that little voice sounds, and she's loath to do so, could've fallen asleep standing there given enough time, if she's being honest, but she lifts her head anyway, frees a hand to rub blearily at one of her eyes as she calls,]

That's right, Lily. Tatsuma's here!

[she gives him another smile as she pulls back. this one's not perfect, but it's a lot better than it was.]

[ It's not perfect, but it's a start, and didn't they all have to start somewhere to begin with? No first step was so big or grand.

With a pang of regret, he lets go, loosens his hold and raises a hand in a blind wave. Donning cheer and merriment like a cloak, he turns to the sound of that small, eager voice. (An arm still around Carol's shoulders, like he's loathe to break contact just yet, like she needs it for as long as he can offer it.) ]

Lily! Am I late? Aah, ahahaha! I meant to come by earlier! Can you forgive me?

Earlier? ( her voice is throaty and quiet, from the long night. she's not so blind to be unable to realize, that she's interrupting—but she's willfully ignoring it for now. it's selfish, but lily is a selfish girl who takes and takes. her tone is nonjudgmental, not harsh—just curious, as she pulls the coat on a bit. )

What for?

[if carol was the type to flush stupidly at things, she'd be doing it right now; it's so strange to her, needing comfort like this, needing that soft pressure up under her ribcage that says someone is here for you, because usually she knows already. she doesn't need to be reminded. she's the one who reminds other people, is there for them.

it's nice, though, this steady presence. it's really, blessedly, stupidly nice.

little lily in sakamoto's big coat, that airheaded laugh in her ear. carol leans in to his side and sips her cooling coffee and watches them talking. lets everything feel... okay, if only just for this moment.]

I wanted to see how you were doing! The sun can be cruel to the unwary, you know?

[ he toes off his geta, makes his way to the lump of lily on the couch. his contact with carol diminishes, the arm sliding around her torso becomes a hand, becomes fingers lingering against cloth before the link of contact is broken. for now, just for now he promises himself.

all eyes on lily. ]

How are you?

Uhm. . . ( lily looks down, a bit shyly—he wanted to come just for her. it stirs something inside the girl, bubbles in her stomach and makes her chest warm, but she doesn't understand why. )

I'm. . . ( scared. tired. relieved, to see another person whose presence makes her feel a little better. finally, she settles on: ) . . . okay. The sun was painful but it doesn't hurt so much anymore. ( that's a safe topic to be on, surely, she can act like that's what he means. )

[the touch is missed immediately once it's gone, stupidly, kiddishly, but carol is a big tough girl. she's been through the ringer more times than she can count and come out standing on her own two feet. it's fine.

she trails sakamoto to the couch, leaning over the back of it to give lily's silk-soft hair a tiny ruffle.]

We learned the virtues of sunscreen and hats, didn't we, Lily? And ice cream. Of course.

That's good! You'll get used to it in no time, you'll see.

[ when he approaches, he circles around the sofa, looking to Lily as if for permission. may i sit? ]

( she's a bit startled by the hair ruffling, looking up at carol with bewildered eyes—oh, but that wasn't a bad sort of touch at all, was it? no, she could get used to that. and the mention of ice cream gets a wide grin as she moves obligingly for sakamoto, ) Yeah! We had lotsa ice cream, and I have a really nice hat! It's biiig and it covers all of my head and it's really cool!

It's pretty much the cutest hat ever.

[--comes the affirmation from carol, elbow on the couch back, resting her cheek in her hand. it's good to see lily responding like this, after the trying time they've had lately.

when push comes to shove, sakamoto's got a way with everyone, it seems. the thought makes her smile to herself, tired and edging on goofy.]

One day, I want to see this hat. Sometime soon maybe, eh? I'm sure it looks lovely on you!

[ he seats himself with care, sinking a little into cushions with a surprised 'uwoah!' and a laugh, catching himself with an arm thrown over the back of the couch itself. better? better. ]

Ahh, did you miss me? Carol's too tsundere to admit to it, but I can trust you with an honest answer, right?

Oh, I can show you! ( —and she pauses, tilting her head to look at carol. ) "Soon-dere"?

( before looking back at sakamoto, deliberating her answer—it comes out shier than she'd have liked it to, when she tugs his jacket over her a bit more and nods. ) Mmm, I missed you! It's nice to see you again, Tatsuma.

[carol gives her a shrug and makes a dumb, exaggeratedly confused face, just for her. because she has no goddamn clue what a tsundere is.

she waits obligingly for lily to answer, then leans down, to wrinkle her nose at sakamoto.]

Excuse me, but Carol is too what-now?

A beautiful blossoming flower of womanhood.

[ merrily, the easiest and most blatant dodge he's ever made in his life. carol even gets one of his brighter smiles, all sunny and dazzling like he's about to go through with the biggest deal in the Kaientai's history.

and, slowly, he turns back to lily. (not without a healthy dose of relief.) ]

I'm very happy to hear.

[ that's when he reaches out, hands held out in invite, slow and careful as can be. ]

Sit with me awhile?

Carol is like a flower?

( she blinks, looking back from tatsuma to carol, trying to understand—taking the statement literally. but—no, she's not really a flower. besides, how could one be a flower of womanhood? what did flowers of womanhood look like? so this is a metaphor, clearly— ) Ahh, she's pretty!

( and again, her reaction is a bit shy, because it's still something new, but she's still quick to take the hand—she'll take every comfort she can get—and nods. )

[he's not getting away that easy, she is gonna find out what that means -- but later, when things have settled enough that she feels up to pestering him.

the way things are going, maybe it won't be too long.]

Oh, Lily. You're so much nicer to me than my other kid.

[they're having a moment, it looks like, and carol thinks vaguely that maybe she should go fix herself some more coffee or something and leave them to it, but she's too tired, and the temptation to watch them interact is too strong. so she just folds her arms and snuggles her face into them, hanging like a limpet off the back of the couch.]

[ he almost tells carol to go, to find her bed and have a touching reunion with Sleep as she so obviously needs. yet, he doesn't. he takes lily's hand in his and he settles himself down on his seat for a long stay.

he hopes it'll be long enough. ]

Isn't she, Lily? [ a laugh, a flash of a grin to carol but all his attention is focused on lily, on this little girl in his coat. ]

Have you been settling in? Eating enough? Sleeping enough?

( she's not really used to compliments, so in response lily flushes a little. ) Badou is nice too! He gave me pink lemonade.

( and she nods again in response to the questions—however, stalling on the last one, her gaze dropping down. ) Uhm. . .

[no, carol knows is the answer, no, she hasn't been sleeping, and I'm worried, it's gonna make her sick or something if she keeps this up--

pot calling the kettle black maybe, lately, but it's more important for lily.

anyway, he knows. she told him and he came right over, and if anybody knows the right thing to say to make everything work out okay, it's sakamoto. maybe that's a stupid amount of trust to place in him, but from where carol's standing, he's earned it.

she stays quiet.]

No?

[ his tone is gentle, has been from the start and hasn't changed yet. as he speaks, he lowers his head, tilts it to the side, inquisitive, curious. concerned. gives her hand a little squeeze, reassurance. it's okay. ]

Something wrong? Is it dreams?

[ he goes nowhere near the Heine Issue, not yet. besides, he can commiserate on the bad dreams scenario.

there's nothing harder to shake off. ]

( she's still for a moment, letting her hand be squeezed and squeezing a bit back—just remembering them makes her want to tremble, and she offers a nod once more in response, not quite despondent yet. her voice comes out small, smaller than small, tiny. )

. . . They're scary. . . .

[ his smile softens for her as he nods, once, twice, a heartfelt gesture of understanding. ]

Sometimes, dreams can be the scariest things we'll ever see. [ they'll last for nights, for months, for years and years. ] But you know what?

( no, her dreams are not the scariest, her life is the scariest—her dreams take from her life, and blend them together to create spine-chilling fear and heartwrenching agony, but that is her life.

she tilts her head up, looking up to the older man with questioning eyes. )

. . . What?

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