perfectmatch | week two

In a way. It left me... aimless, and unsteady, for a time.

[ She closes her eyes, hands folded on her lap. So few years. But it had been inevitable, as all things were. No one, nothing, can last forever. No matter how much one wishes. It is hard, to speak plainly. It is why she chooses not to look, to speak quieter, as if hoping Yi Sang's ears would refuse to catch the words. ]

As I traveled, my father passed away. He was all I had in the world; my mother abandoned us when I was too young to recall anything of her, so I don't feel anything there, but he... was home. Someone I intended to return to, once my query had been satisfied.

[ But that had been dashed. She could have spent the last few years of his life nearby, and in her selfish wants she hadn't. No, she chased the shadow of a culture stolen from her, the silhouette of people she didn't look enough to belong to no more than she did her own homeland's, their thoughts and views estranged from the ones she had grown up with. ]

[It's quiet in the garden. The flowers, bathing in the sun's rays, sway ever so faintly to a muted breeze. In the shade, Odile's voice carries softly through the small space between them. Yi Sang doesn't interject more than is necessary, having no better words of his own to offer.]

An awaiter to whom you could return . . .

[ . . . only for silence to greet her, leaving her isolated. Unlike him, did she see the signs before it happened?]

We wrote one another letters while I was away. I could tell when his hand shook, and when he felt better. I knew, at some point, those letters would stop.

[ The breeze is pleasant, at least. Brings with it the scent of flowers. It reminds her of Yingying, of Mirabelle, of the meadows in Vaugarde...

... Odile exhales softly. ]

It did not make it easier, Yi Sang. I have companions now who-- I might call my own, in that way, [ she does, truthfully, but not in so few words, ] but each have their own paths, and though we may stay in touch it is not quite the same, nor will it ever be. But with his passing did I lose the only thing I could call "mine" in every sense.

[An odd twinge lances through his chest at her admission. It's said that a void can be filled anew; however, what's lost can never be restored. And Odile . . . She saw the impending loss with ample time to brace for it, yet even that wasn't enough.]

Is that why you have come here? To fill the void anew . . .

[ Is it, boiled down? Beyond the pretense of chasing away her absent mother's shade? Apart from the lack of belonging she has, ultimately, where she was born and where she half hails?

... Perhaps it is, but it isn't something she wants to say. Admit. That there is a void needing to be filled, that she'd like it to be a warmth by her side, hand in hers, because it's all so-- vulnerable, and it makes her naked in a way. Odile doesn't answer at first, but when she does it's with a stronger voice. ]

I'd like to distance myself from my absent mother more than anything. To do what she could not and find someone companionable, that I would be... glad, to be with for the better part of what years I have left.

[ Which does make her sound old old, but-- it's true, in any case. Two thirds of it have past. It isn't a bad thing, it's simple fact. ]

Whether it means to travel or settle or whatever else. So long as there is someone to wake up beside.

[Is that true?

As far as he knows, Odile is not a liar. She could well be telling the truth, and she likely is. After what she's confessed, though, every word she utters now feels as if he's handling an open wound with clumsy hands. She speaks of the finite years she's got left, and he thinks of the decades that must've grown the cavity.

Odile, he realizes, is lonely, and she dreams of belonging somewhere—with someone.]

Has your search here availed you aught?

... In some ways, but in others it has only enlightened me the way traveling to Vaugarde did. I suppose we'll see in the weeks to come.

[ Whether or not she'd found someone suitable enough, or if she might be fine with who the producers think would. There are those she would consider asking, yes, but she needs to know the full of their situations too, if they can afford to join her or she them. And it is so early, still. That... a small handful of people will have gotten this out of her is something, and Odile notes it gently in mind. ]

[For those in the pure pursuit of knowledge, enlightenment would have been enough; this, however, is something much more abstract and wearisome. Though he doesn't say it, his words to her from their first day at the manor still stand. He's finally beginning to see the struggles she endures.]

Yes, I suppose we will.

[Three more ceremonies remain. He wonders what will happen in that brief period of time.]

week two | dates

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