Sisters

Night had taken over the camp. Crissalid, with his apron stained with soup, was serving the steaming fish broth into tin bowls, while the kids, illuminated by the glow of the campfire, settled around the cauldron, eagerly awaiting the news Criss had to share.

"I have obtained information about Ik Orochi and the man who took him," announced Criss, capturing everyone's attention. "Some people in the nearby town know him as Yin. He often comes to the reserve. It seems he is friends with the owner of a bar along the main tourist road."

The flickering flames danced in the eyes of the young ones, reflecting their mix of emotions: worry, curiosity, and determination. The shadows twisted among the nearby trees, adding an air of mystery to the conversation.

Throughout the entire dinner, Lyra remained lost in thought, her expression reflecting a mix of exhaustion and discouragement. She knew that during the fight, she had taken more hits than she had delivered.

"It would be best for all of us to retire and rest," suggested Touko when she noticed that the plates were empty and the mood at the table was low.

"There you go again, with that detached and arrogant attitude. Do you think this is a game? My friend is kidnapped!"

Touko lowered her gaze, remaining silent as the sound of Lyra's footsteps echoed away into the forest. Lewa and Criss exchanged glances, aware that it was not their place to intervene in that discussion.

"I'm going to my tent, see you in the morning," murmured Touko with a broken voice, covering her face with hands now stained by tears. Lyra's words hurt more than those of anyone else.

Six years ago, on a warm spring day, the morning awoke with the promise of a radiant day. In the central garden of her parents' grand mansion, a young Touko, barely eight years old, tenderly watered the delicate flowers of a flowerbed. The sun caressed her face as she immersed herself in the task, unaware of any worries.

Suddenly, the serenity was interrupted by a dull and abrupt sound. A ball had fallen abruptly onto a pair of red dahlias, crushing them and breaking their delicate stems. Touko watched the scene with sadness, her eyes full of dismay at the unexpected destruction.

For a few moments, she stood there, silently contemplating the disaster. But then, her childish determination took over. She began to look for the culprits around her, with a mix of curiosity and resentment.

It didn't take long for her to deduce where the projectile had come from. Beyond the huge gates surrounding the mansion, a group of children were chatting animatedly on the street, pointing towards the little blonde's house.

Touko stealthily approached the gate, wanting to listen to the conversation taking place on the other side.

"I don't want to go get the ball! You go get it!" one of the boys shouted, pointing insistently at the only girl in the group: Lyra. The other kids nodded in support of the boy's demand, pushing Lyra towards the task.

With a resigned gesture, Lyra stepped forward and retrieved the ball, walking towards Touko with hesitant steps. When they found themselves face to face, Lyra noticed the tearful eyes of the girl holding the object of the conflict.

"Are you okay? Did the ball hit you?" Lyra asked, feeling guilty about the situation.

"My flowers, they crushed them," replied Touko between sobs, her voice broken by the sadness of seeing her work destroyed. Lyra felt overwhelmed by the weight of guilt, unable to find the right words to comfort Touko.

Touko understood at that moment that Lyra was not to blame for what had happened. She handed the ball back to Lyra and retreated to the garden, leaving the blonde with a lump in her throat. As Lyra held the ball in her hands, a mix of anger and frustration overcame her. She raised the object to chest height and, with a decisive gesture, released it, delivering a strong kick that sent the ball flying into the head of the boy who had originally thrown it.

Touko continued delicately pruning the bushes in the flowerbed when she spotted the figure of her personal butler approaching from a distance.

"Miss Fujimori! Are we going to have to do this every Thursday?" exclaimed Finley, with a mix of exasperation and humor.

"Oh, Finley, let me enjoy at least one day a week tending to my garden," replied Touko, with a mischievous smile.

"If it were up to me, I'd give you an entire week to do it, but you know how your mother is. To her, the garden is just a distraction," Finley explained, in a sympathetic tone.

Touko lowered her gaze, knowing that her passion for gardening was not to her mother's liking.

"I don't want to go to dance classes anymore. The girls there don't want to be with me. They say I'm annoying because I have money," confessed Touko, her voice breaking with sadness.

Finley crouched down to the young blonde's level, a tender expression on his face.

"That's because they don't know you. If they just took the time, they would see that you're the friend everyone needs in their life," said Finley sincerely, before helping Touko to move aside a tulip she was about to cut by mistake.

"Hello, pretty girl!" shouted Lyra from the other side of the gate, catching the attention of Touko and Finley.

"What does that girl have in her hands?" asked Finley, squinting to try to clearly see what Lyra was holding.

"I think it's a flowerpot," replied Touko, standing up. Together, they walked over to where Lyra was to open the gate and let her in.

"Here are more flowers... for the ones we ruined earlier," said Lyra, her overalls covered in mud. A small smile appeared on Touko's face, followed by a brief laugh at seeing Lyra in that state. Finley quickly turned towards Touko, surprised – it had been weeks since young Fujimori had smiled.

"Why don't you come in and help Touko plant these flowers?" Finley suggested to Lyra as he unlocked the gate. Lyra nodded and entered the mansion. Touko took the flowerpot Lyra had brought and led her to the flowerbed where her plants were.

"She won't be going to dance class today, but we shouldn't let her mother or father find out about this," Finley warned Touko as they walked back to the house with the girls.

"Okay, how do we plant these now?" Lyra asked with a bright smile, showing genuine interest in Touko's hobby.

"First, let's see what you brought. There are many different flowers here," Touko replied, examining the contents of the flowerpot with curiosity.

"Do these work for you? If not, I can get more," offered Lyra, surprising Touko with her generosity.

"These are perfect, but... where did you get them from?" Touko asked, a mix of astonishment and curiosity in her voice, receiving only a playful grin from Lyra in response.

After a couple of hours of hard work and lively conversations, Lyra and Touko entered the house together, laughing and playing as if they were lifelong friends.

"Finley, can Lyra stay over tonight?" asked Touko, excitement sparking in her eyes.

"I suppose if both parents agree, I can't refuse," replied the butler, reaching for the kitchen phone to hand it to the girls.

Touko was the first to call, having a brief and private conversation that left a radiant smile on her face. Lyra and Finley could tell the answer even before she hung up. Now it was Lyra's turn, who quickly dialed her home phone number, her excitement palpable in her voice.

"Hello, good afternoon," greeted Luna as she answered the call.

"Sister, it's me, Lyra."

"Where are you, child? It's late for you to still be out."

"I'm at my new friend's house. Can I stay over?" asked Lyra innocently, though Finley could sense something peculiar in Touko's expression. It was the first time someone referred to her as their friend.

"Of course not, I don't even know who she is or where she lives," Luna responded, understandably concerned.

"Her name is Touko Fujimori, she lives in the big house on the way to school. I'm not far from home."

"Lyra, are you at the Fujimori mansion?"

"Yes, my new friend lives here. So, can I stay over?"

"Better invite her over for lunch tomorrow so she can get to know her and feel more comfortable letting you have a sleepover with her," Luna suggested to her little sister. Lyra hung up the phone and shared the proposal with Finley and Touko, who enthusiastically accepted.

"Miss Lyra, would you like us to take you home?" Finley asked the whimsically-haired girl. Lyra simply nodded in response.

Touko's mother returned from a long business trip with Shori a week after these events unfolded. Upon arrival, she was greeted with the news that Touko had quit dance and modeling classes.

"Frankly, I didn't think you were this foolish, Touko. I'm giving you the future any girl would dream of. I'm preparing you to be a famous model and actress, and you just want to throw it all away," scolded Mrs. Fujimori, her voice filled with disappointment and frustration.

"But I don't want that," Touko replied quietly.

"Then what do you want? Do you expect to just live without doing anything?" her mother asked, plunging her daughter into deep reflection. Overwhelmed by the question, Touko simply went out into the garden, where the fresh air and the whisper of leaves offered her solace from her frustration.

As Touko watered the plants in the flowerbed, letting her tears mix with the water, she heard the gentle tapping of Lyra's fingers against the mansion gate. Without hesitation, she opened the door and let her friend in, seeking comfort in her company.

"Are you okay, Touko? You seem sad," observed Lyra, concerned for her friend.

"Lyra... What do you want to be when you grow up?" Touko asked, seeking a distraction in the conversation.

"An adult woman," Lyra replied seriously, eliciting a brief laugh from Touko at the unexpected answer.

"No, I mean what do you want to do when you're an adult?"

"I'm going to be a Warrior like my mom," Lyra answered, adopting a more serious stance. Touko pondered her own desires for a moment before suggesting,

"My father has always wanted me to be a Warrior too. Maybe we could join the guild together."

"That would be great, we could train together to be strong," said Lyra, smiling at the idea of embarking on a new path alongside her friend.

The next day, Touko made a firm and decisive decision. She had communicated the news to her father, and there was nothing her mother could do to change it. However, following that conversation, Mrs. Fujimori began to distance herself a bit more from her daughter, while showing increased attention and affection towards young Shori. The shift in family dynamics did not go unnoticed by Touko, who felt the weight of the disconnect between her and her mother.

In the darkness of the night, the dull thuds echoed through the air, marking the rhythm of Lyra's anger and frustration. With each punch, she seemed to release a part of her inner turmoil, immersed in an almost mechanical dance of catharsis.

"It's past midnight already, why don't you go back to camp and get some sleep?" asked a nearby voice, interrupting her train of thought. It was the boy with the bandaged face, cautiously approaching Lyra amidst the dimness.

"Oh, it's you... Lewa, right? It's not like Touko to send someone to talk for her. Did Criss send you?" replied Lyra, her tone filled with distrust and determination.

"No one sent me to talk to you, in fact, I think what Touko wants most right now is to talk to you," Lewa answered, tossing her a small water bottle that Lyra caught deftly.

"So what do you want from me? Did you just bring me water?" Lyra inquired, returning the bottle with the same directness with which it was given to her.

"Yeah, you're sweating a lot," Lewa explained before tossing the bottle back to her again.

"Alright, I'll take it... I suppose you have something to tell me," Lyra accepted, acknowledging the goodwill behind the gesture, though still cautious about the impending conversation.

"I know how you feel... like you're not achieving anything no matter how hard you try. Every time you make progress, one of your friends has already achieved or surpassed it...," Lewa commented, his voice laden with empathy as he slowly began to peel off the bandages from his face. "A couple of years ago, it never would have crossed my mind to become a Warrior. I was just a troublemaking gang member with no future."

Lyra watched in silence, feeling how Lewa's words resonated deep within her. Though she didn't express it, she understood the weight of self-doubt and the feeling of not measuring up.

"I would spend my mornings exercising in my room and in the afternoons, I'd go out to meet my gang in an abandoned lot. I considered them almost like family, but they didn't even see me as a friend. To them, I was just the guy who did what no one else wanted to do. I was the one they beat up to vent their frustrations after losing fights with other gangs. And no matter how much I trained, I couldn't defend myself; I always ended up on the ground."

"It's not necessary," Lyra interjected briefly as Lewa began to cover his battered knuckles with the bandages from his face. He simply gave her a compassionate smile and continued with his story, as if he needed to get those words off his chest.

"One day, a new guy joined the gang, his name was David, the son of the shopkeeper. He was my age, so we quickly became friends," Lewa continued, his voice heavy with nostalgia and regret as he recalled those dark times. "The problem was, being the youngest in the group, my situation hadn't changed, and now David was suffering the same as I was. But David... he constantly confronted the others, until one day, without warning, they decided that they would all beat him up. If he could endure it without crying or asking them to stop, they would treat him as an equal."

"That's horrible," murmured Lyra, shuddering at the cruelty of the situation.

"Yes, it is... but that's how things were," Lewa sighed, his gaze lost in the dark past he shared with David and the gang. "It turns out David endured it. A week later, they treated him as an equal. The new guy who had joined just a couple of weeks ago was now treated more like a friend than I was. I think you know very well how I felt at that moment."

A tense silence filled the air as Lyra nodded in understanding, absorbing the emotional weight of Lewa's confession.

"So, even though David never treated me differently, one night I let my emotions get the best of me and I just exploded. Insults were exchanged between us, and then I said it," a lump in Lewa's throat forced him to pause briefly before continuing, his voice breaking, "That night, I wished death upon my best friend."

Lyra discreetly lowered her gaze, feeling the gravity of Lewa's confession while avoiding the sight of the tears streaming down the face of the boy from the Kaji nation. She chose to simply listen, allowing her own emotions to intertwine with the words of her companion.

"The next day, when I arrived at our meeting spot, there was no one there. I waited until it got dark, but no one showed up," Lewa continued, his voice trembling as he relived those painful memories. "It was the day after that it was in the newspapers; everyone had died in a gang fight. And it's not that I feel guilty for being some sort of angel of death. It's just that the last thing I said to my only friend was something I didn't really mean. It was something I said out of frustration and anger towards myself."

Lyra listened in silence, her heart aching with sadness and compassion for Lewa. His story's words resonated in her mind, creating an echo of remorse for her own actions.

She couldn't find the words to express what she felt at that moment, but her eyes said it all. She was deeply sorry for what she had said to Touko. Understanding and empathy filled her eyes as her mind swirled with unanswered questions about the weight of words and the consequences of unleashed anger.

"I don't know exactly what your relationship with Touko is, but if she really matters to you, you should explain how you feel," Lewa advised calmly, his voice filled with wisdom and experience.

"But what if she doesn't want to listen to me?" Lyra asked, feeling the weight of uncertainty on her shoulders.

"You lose more if you don't try," Lewa responded firmly before heading back to the camp, leaving Lyra alone with her thoughts.

Upon reaching the tent she shared with Touko, Lyra hesitated for a moment before summoning the courage to enter. With a deep breath, she finally made up her mind.

"Touko, are you still awake?" Lyra whispered softly, finding her friend lying in her sleeping bag, looking at her in silence with a mixture of curiosity and anticipation.

"I have no excuse for how I treated you. You're my best friend, we've been together for years, and I don't ever want to make you feel bad because of me," Lyra confessed, her words filled with sincerity and regret as she sought forgiveness in Touko's eyes.

"Lyra... It's okay. I'll always forgive you, I'll always support you, no matter what you do or say," Touko responded gently, extending her arms in a gesture of reconciliation before hugging Lyra tenderly and planting a warm kiss on her cheek, sealing the peace between them.

The bond between Lyra and Touko had been forged in the crucible of shared experiences and mutual complicity from an early age. For Touko, Lyra represented much more than a mere friend; she was her confidante, her adventure companion, and, above all, her emotional anchor in a world of expectations and family pressures.

Being the first girl her age to show interest in her was a monumental event for Touko. That gesture of friendship and acceptance was like a ray of light in her life, a sign that she wasn't alone in the midst of darkness. Over time, this connection deepened, and Touko began to idealize and normalize Lyra's bouts of anger and selfishness, accepting them as an inseparable part of their friendship.

As the years passed, this emotional dependence on her best friend became even more ingrained in Touko's heart. Despite the emotional wounds caused by Lyra's outbursts, Touko was willing to forgive again and again, sacrificing her own inner peace just to keep Lyra in her life. For Touko, Lyra's presence was a balm for her soul, a source of comfort and unconditional support that she was willing to protect at any cost.