Sonata craned her neck, carefully adjusting her grip on the stepladder. “Did you find it yet?”
“Shut up.” Aria, from her precarious perch at the very top of the ladder, dragged a hefty cardboard box off of the highest shelf they had. She made her way back down slowly and lugged the box inside while Sonata folded the ladder and shoved it away into the corner.
Once Aria had the box open, Sonata flounced over and rummaged through it, digging past a layer of bits and bobs and odds and ends—and setting aside a palm-sized plush fish that she’d spent ages looking for—to find a photo album. “Okay,” she chirped, waving nonchalantly to Aria. “I think I have what I need.”
“Good for you,” Aria drawled, slinking off towards the fridge. “What the hell do you even want out of this?”
Sonata flipped through the album’s pages. They didn’t usually keep many pictures of themselves lying around—it would be a little weird if someone else were to see some of the really old ones—but a handful taken in private were deemed worth keeping. “I was hoping to find some pictures of Pancake in here.”
A can cracked open and Aria came back pouring some kind of yucky alcohol stuff down her mouth. “Please tell me you don’t actually expect to find a pancake in there.”
“Uh, no. That would be silly. I said Pancake. Capital P, so that means it’s a person, not a thing.”
“How did you make that make less sense by trying to explain it?”
“Remember that time like…” Sonata thought for a second. Cameras had been a thing, so it could have been… few centuries ago, maybe? That sounded a little longer than she thought, but it had been a really old and clunky one, so… “A whole long time ago?”
“Sonata, if you’re going to keep rotting my brain like this, there’s a fence outside that I’m told is an excellent listener.”
“Not falling for that this time!” Sonata sang. She then paused, beaming as she homed in on a photo of herself and Adagio fawning over a plump, haughty-looking rabbit seated on a fancy velvet cushion surrounded by a veritable cavalcade of decadent bling. “Ooh, here’s a good one! Not quite what I’m looking for, but…”
“Lemme see.” Aria plucked the picture out of Sonata’s hands, eyed it and made an angry frown. “Oh, was this that time you and Adagio pretended to go crazy for a year so you had an excuse to ignore me?”
“We weren’t ‘crazy,’ we were Prince Pancake Sparklefluff III’s personal handmaidens.”
“And that’s different from what I said… how, exactly?” Aria sent the picture fluttering towards the ground and Sonata moved to catch it.
“There was a bunny involved. Duh.” Sonata looked up at Aria and glared at her. “Also, you threw Dagi’s fancy pen into the ocean, remember?”
“No, but that sounds like something I’d do.” Aria shrugged.
That pen cost her more than this house did. Sonata paused. Cost someone, anyway. “Yeah, that’s a thing you did. We were totally justified.” Sonata looked away to hide her silent muttering. “But anyway, I need a different picture. That one’s too… y’know.”
“If you were going to say slutty, I completely agree. I’m not even sure this is age-appropriate for you.”
Sonata looked at the picture again. Ooh, wow, yeah, that is a lot of skin. Really pretty, though! “Pancake had very specific tastes.” She tucked the picture back in its place and kept looking. “But I need one that’s a little more boring than that. Something that’s cutesy and fluffy and wholesome and just screams ‘pity me.’ ”
“What do you even need it for?”
“You know those friends I have? The ones who you totally hate and stuff?”
“You just described literally every person any of us have ever met. But yes. What about them?” Aria tipped her head back to take a drink.
“Well, one of them, the one you especially don’t like” —Sonata found another picture, of the same bunny sandwiched between her cheek and Adagio’s ample, technically-not-uncovered breasts, and set it aside as she closed the album and stood up— “cheated on her boyfriend, so we’re taking her clubbing to cheer her up.”
A few droplets of liquid splattered forcefully onto her back.
“Did I say that wrong?” Sonata looked thoughtfully at the ceiling, then shrugged. “I might’ve said that wrong. Whatever, it’s not really that important anyway. But when I heard about it, I was like, ‘Oh my gosh!’ because that meant we’d all be spending the entire night consoling her and stuff. But then, if they’re all pitying her and stuff, there’s not gonna be any attention left for me! So tonight—” She held up the picture with a dramatic flourish and beamed at Aria. “I’m going to tell them that my bunny died, and I need pictures and stuff so they’ll believe me.” Sonata giggled, thinking that things like that must be why Dagi always got so smiley when she was doing the scheming thing.
Aria nodded, then smirked and tousled Sonata’s hair. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re a conniving bitch?”
“Aww, thanks, Aria!” Sonata responded by nuzzling her sister, then pouting when Aria lurched back. “Yeah, I get that a lot, but it’s kinda weird: I think you’re the only one who means it in a nice way.”
“Right.” Aria rolled her eyes, which meant she knew she’d heard the truth but didn’t want to admit that someone else was right. Her methods were renowned for their subtlety. “Anything else you wanted to pester me about?”
Sonata reached into her pocket, unfolded a crumpled piece of paper with “Stuff to do” scrawled on top, looked at the bottom, and tensed. “Yeah, kinda.” She had told herself that she was going to do something that day. “Are you doing anything tomorrow?”
“Probably,” Aria said, but Sonata couldn’t help hearing “no” instead. She’d gotten used to some lies over the years, but that particular one stung to hear. Aria didn’t mean it, of course, but...
“Just wondering.” Sonata shrugged, because it totally wasn’t like it was a big deal or anything. “I was thinking maybe we could go somewhere? Go shopping, see a movie, that kind of thing?”
Aria didn’t nod or say yes, both of which would’ve been nice, which was probably why she didn’t do them. She just stared like she’d heard something stupid, but that meant she was at least thinking about it. That gave Sonata a flicker of hope that was shortly extinguished by a raspy voice. “Don’t you have other friends you can do that with?”
Sonata stiffened, because that really wasn’t the point and she hated how Aria didn’t seem to realize it and…
Sonata smiled. “Yeah, but you know, I was just wondering if... ” If you wanted to, she realized she was about to say. She seemed to say that a lot around her sisters.
“I think they’d enjoy it more than I would.”
“Oh, okay. So that’s a no, then?” Sonata nodded slowly. “That’s fine,” she lied.
“Glad to hear it.” Aria walked away. She eyed the box she’d taken down earlier and moved to pick it up. “I hope you enjoy yourself tonight,” she said. Sonata liked to think she meant it.
She took the album with her and trudged back to her room.
“What do you see in Aria? It’s just that you obviously care about them very much, but I can’t think of a time you’ve spoken about her like you, you know, like her.”
They sat on a worn but comfy sofa in Sunset's living room, in an apartment most kindly described as 'cozy.' Sonata would have liked the place, Adagio thought. It had that kind of pleasantness to it that only those constrained by a lack of ambition could properly appreciate, the comfort it offered subdued so as not to offend the less fortunate. And that was the question Sunset had chosen to ask, once the usual pleasantries were passed and the subject had turned to how Adagio was holding up.
“Hmm. Aria… Aria is the second-best siren that there’s ever been, as far as I know. I imagine I’d be very much like her, if I weren’t always the prettiest girl in the room.” A smile made its way to Adagio’s mouth; memories flickered through her head, of beautiful Aria weaving a tempest of wrath out of her song. “She had a voice that could make fires roar and veins open.” She curled her lip. “Some of the uglier tricks our magic could do, but sometimes they had their place.
“But she’s also the kind of person who would burn down an art gallery just to spite all the people who thought the pieces in it were beautiful. Basically, she hates me, hates Sonata, probably hates you, hates… oh, who am I missing? There must be someone else, someone she’s… I don’t know, been in a room with.” She turned to face a now wide-eyed Sunset and flashed a gleaming smile. “Does that answer your question?”
“Not really? Everything you’re saying makes it sound like you’d want her as far away from you as possible.”
“That’s how you know I’m telling the truth about her. Because you’re right, I’d never invite someone like her into my life. But she’s a part of it, and she has been for a very long time. Sometimes a siren just… needs another siren there for her, and there were a lot of days I wasn’t sure Sonata counted.”
The first face Sunset made in response to that was a puzzled one, like she was expecting to have another question. Soon, though, she shifted to a more intent interest and she crossed her ankles, like she was settling in for what she expected to be a long story.
“How’d you three end up together, then?”
Sonata rested her cheek on her palm, staring at an assortment of dresses strewn out over the dining table.
She’d taken them downstairs; her room was next to Aria’s and the walls were rather thin, so being somewhere else gave her a little leeway if she ever felt like sniffling. Aria didn’t like to hear that, and she probably had enough to worry about on her own.
Sonata had thought that picking out what she was going to wear that night would help her relax and take her mind off things. So far, it hadn’t been working.
Sonata wondered sometimes if Aria felt the same way about the whole situation as she did. Sure, they couldn’t do fancy magic things anymore, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t find other things they liked, right?
If they tried, probably.
If they tried.
Sonata sighed, and half-heartedly poked and prodded at the dresses on the table. They all look nice, I guess.
She stood up, trudged away from the table and flopped down on the couch. Maybe she’d flip a coin or roll a die or something later.
She fidgeted for a bit, tried to find a comfortable way to lie down, but nothing quite worked. After a little while, she sat up, groaned softly and lazily looked out the window, wondering if there was something exciting outside.
Nope. There was a sidewalk, and a street past that, and Adagio was walking up to the doorway and there were houses and things on the other side of the street and—
Sonata rushed over to the door and flung it open.
Adagio stumbled back, steadying herself against the door as her heels wobbled. She looked quite surprised, and certainly not very happy. Even after she caught herself and focused on Sonata, she was still and wistful.
Hesitating, Sonata noted that Adagio’s locket was missing, and awful thoughts came to mind. “Dagi?”
At the sound of her name, Adagio flinched, breathing out a sigh and then stepping a little closer. She smiled, and Sonata immediately felt better for it, but Adagio still had an air of melancholy to her, and that kept Sonata’s spirits from rising too high. “Kind of, but, uh… hi,” Adagio said. “I’m not who you think I am, Sonata.”
“Hmm?” Sonata looked at Sort-Of-Adagio again. She didn’t look any different, not really—except for her hair, now that Sonata thought to look. Adagio rarely went without something spiky and pointy holding her hair up, but this time she had it flowing unbound down her back. And she didn’t look confident, and Sonata knew Dagi was like that only rarely. Oh, and hadn’t there been another Princess something-or-other at that school with the magical girls? “Oooh… so you’re This-Dagi, not That-Dagi?”
That wasn’t so bad, she thought, but it did remind her that she missed the real Adagio. But maybe this other one would be kinda similar? That would be pretty nice.
This-Dagi thought for a moment and nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, that. I’m sorry, this is all very rude of me, but… I just wanted to see you. I spoke with your sister the other day, and we were talking about you and it’s confusing, I know.”
Sonata blinked. “No, I think I get it.” Not like it was all that complicated anyway, but whatever.
Still, This-Dagi looked pretty happy to hear it. She smiled, but only in that half-hearted kind of way that meant she wasn’t sure whether she was really supposed to be happy or not. “Is Aria here?”
Oh, sure. That’s the first thing you ask. Sonata deflated a little on the inside, but kept herself chipper on the outside. “I could go and see.” She thought for a moment. “Do you want to come inside and wait?”
After she saw a faint glimpse of a nod, she ushered This-Dagi in, plopped her down on a couch, and then hurried upstairs to knock on Aria’s door.
“Aria?”
She didn’t hear anything, which meant…
Well, it could have meant just about anything, really. Maybe Aria wasn’t even there, or maybe she just listening to super-loud music with her headphones on, or brooding in the corner being all sulky and “Don’t touch me,” and stuff, or maybe she was passed out on the floor ‘cause she drank a whole lot…
Hopefully it wasn’t any of that nasty stuff. Sonata knocked again, just to be sure. “Aria?”
Would knowing that there was a second Dagi get Aria out faster? It seemed like the kind of thing that she’d want to check out, if she knew about it.
But then she thought back to the last time Aria and Adagio had spoken to each other. Hmm. She frowned, then flounced away from the door and went back downstairs. She saw This-Dagi standing by the table, looking so at home and in place that the whole room seemed more welcoming. “She’s not here,” Sonata said.
This-Dagi wilted just a tiny bit, but put a smile back on quickly. “That’s okay,” she said. Sonata didn’t believe her, but This-Dagi changed the subject by gesturing to the dresses Sonata had laid out. “What’s all this for?”
“Hmm? Oh, uh…” She’s kinda not a stranger, right? Sonata missed having Adagio around to smack her when she said the wrong things—kind of like a fluffy-but-angry safety blanket—but there wasn’t really anything too bad she could say, right? There weren’t any complicated plans to ruin, not really. What was the worst that could happen? “I’m going out with some friends tonight and was figuring out what to wear and all that stuff.”
This-Dagi looked at Sonata, then back to the dresses. “And you were going to wear…” Her finger traced a loose circle in the air, settling on the closest one. “That?”
Sonata looked at the indicated outfit—which she knew from experience she looked awfully cute in, even if the skirt was a little longer than she liked and it didn’t emphasize her hips enough. She knew for a fact at least one of her friends was jealous of those hips. “Uh… yeah? Is something wrong with it?”
“No, no. Looks fine to me.” This-Dagi held up her hands, then quirked her mouth and idly fiddled with her hair. “But I was told that you and your sisters were… sirens, I think was the word?”
Had Adagio told her that? That didn’t sound like her. But This-Dagi seemed nice so far. Maybe Adagio liked her too? That must’ve been it.
Sonata cracked a smile. Nodding all the while, she trotted over and stood right next to This-Dagi. “Something like that, yeah.” She eyed This-Dagi closely, stopping once she satisfied herself that there weren’t any differences she’d notice apart from the hair.
“And, I don’t know, I guess I always thought sirens would be… sexier? Don’t get me wrong, I think you’d look adorable in that, but—”
That made Sonata wilt a little, because it wasn’t very Dagi-ish. “No, I get it.” Sonata shifted in place, rolling her eyes a little and gesturing up the stairs. “They kinda always had that bit covered pretty well.” Sure, that often meant they were the ones that got all the attention—or a lot of it, anyway—but that wasn’t that big a deal anyway.
“And there’s no point trying to beat them at their own game, right?” This-Dagi nodded knowingly. “Are they going with you tonight?”
Sonata cocked her head, then felt a wonderful idea building. “No,” she said, “They’re not.”
This-Dagi paused, thought for a moment, then looked Sonata over with an appraising eye that might have made her uncomfortable had it come from someone else. “How long until you need to leave?”
“Few hours, I guess?”
“Little tighter than I’d like, but…” This-Dagi spun Sonata around, then darted in front of her and dragged her towards the door by her wrist. “I can work with this. C’mon, let’s go.”
Sonata frowned. “What? Go where?”
This-Dagi looked back at her, in that kind of way that people did when other people asked them silly questions with obvious answers. “Isn’t it obvious?”
Slowly, Sonata shook her head.
This-Dagi replied with a light chuckle. “Shopping.”
Sunset had looked so content sitting on that sofa that Adagio hadn’t been able to resist sending her off to fetch a glass of water. The few seconds to herself, Adagio had used to make herself comfortable.
Now, though, she peered through memories muddled by time and turned into words, as confidently as if she’d heard her own story just last night.
“From what I gather… Sonata washed up on the shore of a coastal village you’d probably never have heard of, half-dreaming but fairly docile, and she was awfully pretty, so the townsfolk decided to keep her. They were good to her, as far as I know.” Not to say they could’ve done much to her if they’d wanted to—sirens were creatures of music and water, not so easily harmed as those of flesh and blood.
“She wore a body like theirs, and they treated her like their child. One day, a panic came over the town when an angler was out for a walk in the woods and disappeared. The search party went out, only to find that he’d been devoured. By a fierce, ravenous monster with scales a lovely shade of fuschia. Aria, her name was. The other ponies chased her back to the town, and that’s when Sonata met her.
“Sonata had her gem, back then, even when she was a pony, and Aria’s was in her chest. They met, Sonata woke up from her dream, and Aria’s savagery softened. She too wrapped herself in the guise of a pony, and over time she reached an uneasy peace with the townsfolk.” How she had managed that, Aria had never said, but even then, her voice had been exceptionally compelling, or so Sonata said. “She and Sonata were inseparable. It was like they were both newborns, experiencing life for the first time together.
“But something was always missing. They spent their days in peace, lazing about with fishers and farmers, but they were never really at home. Something called out to them, but none of their companions knew any life outside the village. So they set out on their own. They followed the sea, and it whispered in their ear as they walked alongside it. It taught them how to sing, how to wield their power. It showed them their path. Their journey took them far to the north, and that’s where they found me.”
Adagio glanced to the side, half-expecting to see Sunset nodding off, but enraptured interest looked back at her. “And where were you?” Sunset asked.
Despite herself, Adagio felt a smile playing on her lips. “It’s hard for me to say, truthfully.” Thinking ahead did wonders to quell her cheeriness. An encouraging smile told her it wouldn’t be so bad, but it was just a candle trying to dispel a whole bank of dreary fog.
“At the time, things didn’t seem so bad, but looking back at it it’s like I was trapped in a nightmare. I was in a lake, or maybe a pond, with ice over the top that I couldn’t break. And there was a pony standing over me.” She couldn’t remember a face, not after so long—they’d all looked the same to her back then anyway. But even then, there’d been a coldness of spirit to him that she hadn’t felt from many other ponies. He hadn’t purified himself of fear completely when he stood in her presence, but she distinctly recalled it being balanced and diluted by curiosity—no, something stronger than that. Pragmatism, perhaps. Where other ponies saw a monster or a thing of beauty, that one saw a tool. “He kept asking me to sing for him, and…”
She cut herself off, squeezing her eyes shut and calming herself with the images that came later, when she’d awoken. Two other sirens, descending from the sky like angels coming to their goddess’ side.
In the present day, of course, it was Sunset who came to her side, laying a soft, comforting hand on her shoulder and speaking in a gentle voice. “Do you want to show me?”
Adagio shook her head. “No. No, not this one, not right now. It’s not one of my fonder dreams. My earliest memories are of that lake and my sisters coming for me. I don’t know if there were ever any other sirens. I never saw any but them, and they’ve never told me about any others.”
“But then I never gave them much thought at the time, really. They did what I needed them to do, they reaped the rewards of their obedience, and that was that. Then we came here.” Old memories surfaced yet again. She saw Aria staring at her with bloodshot, vicious eyes, face contorted by pain and betrayal. She remembered a stinging pain on her cheek, a hectic blend of desperate pleas and snarling curses bombarding her ears. “Things didn’t go well at first.”
Sunset’s voice came from beside her, clear as crystal amidst foggy memories. “But then they got better, right? You were with them for so long, there must’ve been something.”
“We didn’t really have a choice in the matter, actually” She stood over a body marred by crimson gashes, too broken to stand but too proud to kneel or beg. A song that she’d thought silenced came reborn from her mouth to cleanse purple skin of wounds, and she cried tears of joy for a woman she hated. “Those gems were a set of three. Together, they were strong. But take them apart…” That lesson, Aria had taught all of them, when a month had passed and extravagant lies she’d woven effortlessly a dozen times started to crumble during her solitude. If I hadn’t found her that night…
“So you couldn’t have left them if you wanted to.”
“No.” Flash forward a century. She saw a figure standing alone under a solemn moon, still swathed all in black and still enduring the pain of immortality and secrecy. At the time, she didn’t have many words to offer, but gentle touches spoke volumes for her and trust was the reply. “Drop three girls into a forest, cold, naked and frightened, all alone in a world where their truth is answered with fire and steel. We didn’t like each other.” Although one of them had done a better job pretending. “But it was better than being alone.” Not that she’d ever truly been alone, not as long as the gem around her neck could gift her honeyed sounds and soothing lullabies, but sometimes flesh and blood could offer a more nuanced companionship.
“And there you have it. That’s how we met, and that’s why we stuck together for as long as we did. Is that everything you wanted to know?”
“Yeah. I think so. What happened, then?”
“It’s Aria. She’s being so… so stubborn, so stupid, so determined to… I don’t know what she’s thinking these days, I really don’t.”
“There’s no kind of… compromise you two can reach?”
There was one. Or Aria seemed to imply there was, at least. But to think of actually taking of it, of turning her back on something so central to her being…
Unthinkable. Her gem had been there before Aria. The power it could offer was her oldest dream. A life without her ruby, no matter who occupied it, would be a shadow of one where she had that gem back.
“No,” she murmured. “Not unless she changes her mind, there isn’t. She’s asking far too much of me.”
Sunset gave a small, sad nod. “Alright. We’ve… already established that I’m a bit out of my depth with you three, so… I’ll believe you when you say that. But if there ever is anything you want me to do…”
There was, of course. But she didn’t dare ask it out loud, did she? Sunset wished for her to have her beauty back, perhaps, but only if it were fangless.
And if her double, who seemed surprisingly competent, came through and she’d get them anyway…
“There isn’t. Not right now, anyway. Keep me company for as long as you can stand to and I think you’ll be able to call it a day.”
This-Dagi prodded and dabbed at Sonata’s face with a brush a few more times, then stepped back, tilted her head, smiled smugly and pulled Sonata in front of the mirror.
“So… what do you think?”
“Eee!”
“Satisfied?”
“Yes. Thankies!”
“You’re… very welcome.”
This-Dagi held the hug for a long time, but finally she stepped back and looked away. She rubbed at her eyes, bit her lip and sighed.
Sonata froze. The unfamiliar sight left her staring silently, until eventually she worked up the nerve to speak hesitantly. “What’s wrong?”
“Hmm?” This-Dagi looked at her, forced a smile, and tried to pretend that her eyes hadn’t been welling up just a second ago. “Oh, it’s… it’s nothing.” She tried to wave it all off. “Don’t worry about me. I’m glad I got to do this with you, it’s…” She winced. “It’s been a long time, but that’s not your problem. I shouldn’t be burdening you like this.”
Seeing Adagio in that state, even if it sort of wasn’t actually Adagio, made Sonata’s chest tighten. “Don’t you have your own Sonata at home?” She let herself dream for a moment, wondering if the three of them would be fighting so much in a life without magic.
The look that came onto This-Dagi’s face drained Sonata of hope.
“Yes. I- I do, and she’s very sweet. But… I haven’t seen in her in so long, and...” Sonata offered her an encouraging smile, and This-Dagi continued. “I’m going home soon.” She wilted, letting her shoulders sag, and looked every bit as weary as if she’d actually been a thousand years old. “I’m going home,” she repeated, but she said it like she was going to a funeral.
Smile. Keep smiling. That’s what she wants to see. Sonata inched closer and held This-Dagi’s hand, squeezing it gently like she would’ve done for Aria. “Isn’t that usually a good thing?”
“Usually. Yeah, usually.” This-Dagi shook her head. “Not this time, not for me.” She met Sonata’s eyes but immediately wilted like she wished she hadn’t. “I’m… sorry. Really sorry. This whole day, I’ve done nothing but treat you like someone else, and that’s not fair to you. But…” She reached out, cupped Sonata’s cheek and made her desperately wish it was the real Adagio touching her like that. “You’re so much like her.”
“It’s okay,” Sonata said. For once, she felt like she meant it. “I was kinda doing the same thing.” And enjoying it, but she didn’t say that part. “They mean well. Really, they do, but… sometimes it feels like they’re not even thinking about what I want.”
“I’m sorry.” This-Dagi pulled Sonata close again and just held her. “If… if you mean as much to them as mine does to me, then they care. I know they do. It’s hard sometimes to see through someone else’s eyes.”
After a moment’s consideration, Sonata relaxed, let her head rest on Adagio’s—This-Dagi’s—chest. “I hope you’re right.”
“Sonata…” Slowly, carefully, This-Dagi stroked her hair, holding her tenderly like a flower. “You’ve spent your whole life with them, and it’s so, so easy to take people like them for granted. I know I did, and I don’t think there’s ever been a thing I’ve regretted more.”
That sounded awfully bad, and the pain in This-Dagi’s voice put Sonata on edge. She wondered what kind of life This-Dagi lived, and whether or not the real Adagio felt the same way.
Because if she did…
Sonata felt terrible just thinking about it. She imagined the real Adagio saying the kinds of things she’d just heard and immediately, a twisting, seething pain churned in her chest. What kind of person was she, if Adagio was feeling that bad and was all on her own?
She hesitated for a moment, then put her arms around This-Dagi, smiling as she hugged her back. “Hey. Why don’t we make a deal?” She pushed back a little and looked into This-Dagi’s eyes. “Let’s both do something about this. Tomorrow, I’m going to go see my Dagi, and I’m going to do everything I can to bring Aria with me, and we’ll try and make things better.” She felt a little brighter just saying it, all the confusion and worry of before melting away. “And you… are going to do the same thing. As soon as you get a chance, just… go see them again.” She paused, remembering how even Aria had smiled a little when she and Adagio had last met, even if it all went downhill from there. “I think they’d like that.”
Sonata had hoped to see joy come to This-Dagi’s face, and she didn’t quite get that wish. She didn’t get a gleaming smile, nor happy tears. What she got was a sigh. A soft, delicate sigh, accompanied by a steadying of This-Dagi’s features. “You’re right,” she said. “I’m not going to like what I’ll have to do to make that happen. I’m not sure anyone would.” Her voice wavered, and was far from as certain as Sonata would’ve liked to hear it be. “But you’re right. I have to.”
She smiled again, then. Just a faint, thin shape her lips made, but it made Sonata’s heart soar just the same.
This-Dagi breathed out another sigh, then ran her fingers through Sonata’s hair one last time, kissed her on the forehead, and took a step back. “Thank you,” she said, pausing to steady herself one more time before finally giving a fond smile and ushering Sonata towards the door. “You should get going. Wouldn’t want to keep your friends waiting, would you?”
“No, I guess not.” Sonata stopped on the doorstep. “But you should come too. I mean, you’re already dressed for it and everything, right?”
“No. No, I can’t.”
Sonata stared at her, tilting her head. “Why not?”
There was something odd about the look that came to This-Dagi’s face. It was slightly pained, but in the kind of way someone felt when they got a papercut. “I can’t say.”
That sounded like something Aria would say when she was trying to lie. “Come on, it’ll be fun. We don’t have to go with my friends, if that’s… I’ll tell them I’m sick or something, and…” Sonata looked up at This-Dagi, letting her shoulders slump and feeling like she was echoing herself again. “You don’t have to. If you don’t want to, I mean.”
This-Dagi stood still for a long few seconds. She looked away, lifting her fingers up to rub at her eyes. “I do,” she whispered. “Of course I do.” She bit her lip, fiddled with her fingers. Eventually, though, she looked down, took Sonata’s hand and squeezed it. “Alright. Let’s go.”