Work Text:
Sometimes Doki felt it. The wires, the steel, the chips and plates and whatever else that had been put in her body. Her lungs constrained, her heart beating in a metal cage. Some nights she wanted to rip through her skin, peel them out piece by piece, to hell with whatever failsafes had been put in her.
She knew there was more than one. The packet of poison, ready to be injected into the artery in her left leg, the bomb sitting just under her lungs. Who knew how many other ways there were, how many ways Yassud could cripple or kill her if she went off track.
Some nights she didn’t even sleep. She stood, staring at the walls, or if she was lucky, out a window, wondering what her life could have been, what paths she might have taken. Sure, ninety percent of them were her dying to that bomb, the shrapnel in her heart too much for any regular doctor to treat.
But maybe there was a miracle out there, some gift from the past a Harpy had dug up, something to save her. Or maybe dying there would have been the miracle, being saved from the life of an indentured cyborg, unable to break free, unable to chose for herself.
Most of the time she’d dismiss those thoughts with a snort and the shake of a head. There were no miracles, not in the modern world. Not with corpos strangling the people and the Feds so weak they couldn’t govern beyond the six loyal states.
Doki had crossed them many a time- the feds would never help her. Her own people were staying in Appalachia, and even if she could return to them, there was not a doctor in the world who could undo what had been done to her. So she worked for Yassud, bearing the ‘corrections’ and the berating and whatever else was thrown at her. Maybe it was better than dying, maybe Doki was afraid that they would find a way to bring her back from the great crossing, to deprive her even of the afterlife.
Today was different. Today, Doki was going to do something. A small thing, of course, a tiny action, a hair of distance. Doki's job was to kill, and today's target was the Minister of Agriculture of the Second United States. She had no love for the Feds, of course, few did. But she had heard the rumors, the stories of an underground movement, of clandestine raids and extrajudicial killings. Some folks were finally playing dirty, and if the Minister had gotten a kill order, they were almost certainly one of them.
She couldn’t just miss, of course. Yassud would know. They knew when she was lying, knew how well she could shoot. So Doki had to plan. She’d pissed off her handlers enough that the buzzers had been active for the past two days. Those hurt, the constant vibrations, never quite the same, never able to get used to them. There was one in her chest, pressed up against her ribs, the other at the base of her skull.
They were the cover, the excuse. Forty eight hours without sleep would degrade even the greatest of shooters, of which Doki was. The second part was her spot- just far enough to make a difference, with the excuse of increased security making the usual rooftops and vantage points unavailable. That was also the truth, even if maybe she could be a little closer, the apartment roof she was on was her best shot.
She was watching the procession, watching the hair of the Minister of Agriculture. There was a shimmer there, the only visual sign of a force sheild. Doki's cybernetic eye could pick it out, told her of its layerings. Soon she would be at the podium, a half second window between the force shields letting her in and them closing, a half second to thread a bullet between them.
And in that moment, that vital breath of vulnerability, Doki hesitated. It was the lack of sleep, the distance, the pressure. That's what she said, at least. Those things were true.
“And you… you fucking failure of a harpy, you think we’re just going to let this go?” It didn’t help very much. The bullets had been recovered and traced to one of three corporations- who else engraved them with gold, after all.
“‘S not my fault.” Doki wouldn’t meet their eyes. It had been another twenty three hours since she’d evacuated from DC, time spent being yelled at, having her buzzers turned to a painful level. And now, finally, she was being debriefed. They were almost angrier at her, that she had reasons, that it hadn’t been a deliberate miss. Doki wondered what would have happened if it was, if they would have found a way to strip her of her last few rights, or just blown her chest open.
“Go. we’ll have something for you. Don’t expect to be fed.”
Doki never did. Paid for meals were few and far between. She made up the calories with thievery and skimming a bit of the mission funds, hoarding them in overseas bank accounts and credit chips hidden in the little gaps between flesh and metal.
She didn’t bother sticking around. The compound was nice enough, even if Doki couldn’t access the rooms or pool or any of the other amenities. She was left with a cot tucked against one wall, not even a roof to protect her from the rain.
The buzzing was worse. She could hear it now, could hear bone being ground on, could hear her skin pulling and chaffing. She wanted to tear them out.
“You’d best have been fucking worth it,” She didn’t even know the name of her would be victim. Spite had carried her this far, and spite would carry her beyond the fucking buzzing.
It almost didn’t. It was two days of the buzz, of vibrations, of wishing they had just killed her for failing. But finally, thankfully, it lessened. Not stop, of course, she wouldn’t be that lucky. It was enough to sleep, to be given a job. An insulting job, of course. Retrieving data sticks, something any intern or suit could do.
She wanted to say as much, to complain. But her handler was running a hand along the remote that would make her life a living hell, so she didn’t. She bowed her head and moved on.
They didn’t even give her a car, of course. Public transportation, from Michigan to northern Vermont. It was almost nostalgic, looking north. Canada, the land of famine and cold. She was just old enough to remember some of it, to remember winters spent hungry and cold.
The people on the buses and trains stared, of course. Most of her modifications were under the hood, at least (Yassud would NEVER pay for a full synthsuit or metal shell) but all of them recognized her feathers, the way her hair flared out at her neck. Doki didn’t stare back. She'd long learned to weather the looks and the whispers, the price of being a harpy beyond Appalachia. Doki was miserable enough, she was not going to bother with them.
She wondered what they would say if she took her jacket off, showed the long scars along her back or the little, hard lines that marked wires threaded just under skin. She was feeling them again, itching at them under her gloves and sleeves.
“Fuck,” At least she would be alone, beyond the route east. Once she had stepped off the last bus, she was in New Mallie, founded after the fall of the first United States, abandoned before the Second had taken the stage. Long forgotten by most, even if the electricity was still on. It was a strange thing, to be walking through well lit streets, to looking in empty businesses and see little signs, lit and inviting her in. The place had fallen off of the books somewhere, or was still nursing from the corpse of some long dead megacorp.
The later, most likely, considering her job there. Punch into the central servers of the place, pull names and dates, return. She was less than a messenger here, and it grated on her. She kept twirling her gun, imagining putting a shot between the eyes of her handlers, imagining freedom for the first time in years. Maybe she would settle somewhere like here, free of people looking at her, free to get the wire pulled out of her skin.
A flicker of light. Doki whipped around, finger closing around the trigger, revolver ready to spit death. Nothing, an empty storefront. A themed cafe, little frills decorating a sign that proclaimed it as ‘New Mallie’s First Maid Cafe!’
Doki stared at it a moment. Any computer hooked up to the town’s main servers would do, she figured.Doki didn’t break in, not here. The doors had been left open, yearning for one last patron, one final guest.
It wasn’t just that- a cup of tea, left out for her, a table freshly dusted. Doki eyed it for a second, allowed the cybernetics in her left to analyze it, to pick tea from water in its search for poison. There was none, even if the tea bag was twenty three years expired.
Doki considered it, considered how much time she had before someone checked in on her.
“Uh, thanks.” Doki said it to the cafe, presuming it was some automated greeting system, some ancient automaton still working through its program.
“You’re welcome!’ Doki jumped at the voice, spilling hot tea down her front, cursing and whipping around. Again she led with her revolver, but this time there was something to shoot at.
A maid, clad in frilly whites and pale greens, eyes of shining blue. Doki got to watch them widen, watch her expression go through the motions of shock and fear. She hesitated- what the fuck even was protocol here? What was she supposed to do? She knew the answer she would get, knew the order that would come down if she asked. She wondered if she would follow through for a moment.
Then the maid vanished, Doki once more threatening empty air.
“What the fuck?” Doki didn’t lower her gun. “Am I going insane?”
Nothing but a passing wind answered her. Doki turned to her tea, wondering if it had been something automated.
“I… I’m sorry. If you’re real. And I’m not losing my mind.” She said to the empty air. She paused after, straining her ears. Nothing again. “I guess I am.”
Doki considered her tea, then shrugged. “Whatever. Mid tier tea anyways.”
She had a job to do, and the register was a good enough computer for it. The breacher worm went to work as soon as she plugged it in, mimic port fitting to whatever kind of USB people were using fifty years ago.
And then, it was waiting. Doki got to watch the progress bar tick, which was about as entertaining as watching paint dry, but it was something.
“My tea is not mid tier.” Again, that voice. Doki still jumped, still reached for her gun. This time, though, she didn’t raise it, didn’t wave it into the empty air.
“Are you real?” Doki could see her again.
“Maybe.” The maid had crossed her arms. She was pouting, Doki realized. It would have been cute, if Doki wasn’t wondering is she’d developed some tumor or the wires in her brain had finally started crossing.
“What are-” Doki was interrupted by the ding of the breacher worm finishing its job, “who are you?”
The maid didn’t answer. Instead, she floated past her, one hand teaching through fiberglass and steel to pluck Doki’s worm from the register, examining it as one would an interesting bug they’d found on the ground.
“What is this?”
“Hey- give that back.” Doki reached a hand out, stumbling as it phased through the maid. “What? You’re- fuck, I need to get diagnostics again. This is not normal.”
The maid didn’t respond. Instead she passed a spectral hand through the USB, eyes narrowing as she did, “who’s Matara Kan?” She asked, “I feel like I know that name.”
“How the fuck should I know?” Doki asked. “Why are you asking that? You’re my hallucination, can you at least make some sense?
The only response Doki got from that was a stuck out tongue as the maid danced away from and other of Doki’s lunges. “So, what, you just walk into buildings and start messing with their computers?”
“I’m not answering you,” Doki said, rubbing at her eyes. “Is this tea even real? Is this place automated? Fuck me, I don’t want to get diagnostics. Last time I woke up with- ah, fuck.” The buzzing was back, loud and angry. Doki knew if she checked her messages there would be an expectant text, a command to hurry. Of course.
Someone was still bitter- the buzzers were harsher, already at the grinding bone level, already drowning out her thoughts. “Fuck fuck fuck, I need some quiet right now.”
“Hello?” Doki wondered if the maid could here them, then dismissed that. The Maid was a hallucination, after all. “Uh, miss?”
“Can you fucking go away? I cant deal with- I can’t.” There were tears in her eyes- Doki tried blinking those away, but they returned in force. Every breath hurt, every moment a blistering pain. How did they expect her to work like this? Did they expect her? Or would they leave Doki like this, in crippling pain. They’d done it for hours, before, as a disciplinary measure. Days of that… Doki couldn’t do it, wouldn’t-
A knife of cold, at the back of Doki’s head and where her ribs met belly. It was a shock, drew a gasp and another curse from Doki, but then…
“They’re quiet,” Doki had almost forgotten what it was like. It was the maid, one hand pressed into the back of Doki’s neck, the other pierced just below her sternum. Doki knew the computers there- the few that weren’t linked to controlling the servos in her legs and the lenses in her eye.
They were where her punishments were dolled out from- indeed, the one at the back of her head was linked to the failsafe in her head. And the cold, the hands. It was the maid, eyes wide, hands fading into her chest before pulling out. She wasn’t gone though- Doki could feel it, could feel a shot of ice running up her wires, swirling around chips, one edge reaching a moment too far.
She was in a building, clutching a check. Five hundred dollars. It could save her cafe, she could buy it! Even if this town was dying, even if there were less and less people every day, she could do something with the building. All she had to do was sit under the stupid beam. It hadn’t done anything for years, it wasn’t going to do anything n-
Doki felt Mint reel back, the maid’s memory following her.
“Mint,” Doki said the name. She felt like she knew more of it. If she reached, she could almost see something else, a bright blue beam, a shriek, some thing just beyond.
“Doki,” Mint was pressing a hand to her eye, wide eyed, afraid. Doki wondered what she had seen, what deed from her past had earned her that look. “They… that put so much in you…”
Ah, that. “You got… you died?” Doki couldn’t see it, couldn’t see the moment of transition between the girl she had been in that memory and what she saw now.
Mint reached a hand towards Doki’s left eye, pulling back just before it settled on Doki’s cheek. “Does it really… feel like that?”
Doki could feel her in that eye. For a moment, she was Mint, looking at herself through Doki’s eyes, seeing Doki with her own. Three eyes, and a ghost in her brain and being the ghost and-
“Fuck,” Doki had to close her eyes, turning from Mint, rubbing at her temples. “Fuck, what is this? What are you?”
“Sorry, sorry,” Doki could feel her retreat, felt the part of the maid in her retreat down to the computers in her chest.
“Oh, there's… there’s a bomb in here.” Mint was quiet a long moment. “Wow. um, who are you? Why do you have a dozen ways to die stitched into your body?”
“Not my choice.” Doki had to sit, check her messages. Nothing but a ‘make progress or face worse.’ Of course. “You’re…” She had to search for the right word, an old tale, distorted by time and the drink she’d had hearing it. “A code-wraith? Oh my god you’re a code-wraith.”
Those stories were terrifying. Rumor had it one of them had taken control of the entire world’s nuclear stockpile. A cabal of them ran the colonies on the moon. Every company with a few billion to throw around had been trying to develop controllable ones. After two hundred years of failure, they kept trying. Never quite learning the lesson.
Mint herself was worth about twenty billion, give or take. Not that she could be sold- controlling a code-wraith was like trying to stop the tide.
“I am NOT a code-wraith.” Mint said, crossing her arms. She was a maid.
“You… why can I hear you in my head?”
“You can?” Mint asked. Can you?
It was like her own thoughts, even if they had a different voice, even if she knew they weren’t hers.
“Oh,” Mint paused. “Uh, your nerves… I mean wire? It's hard to tell the difference. Fiber wire and nerve paste, and none of it is capped. Sorry, its hard to know where…”
Where wire started and brain ended. Was that Mint, or Doki knowing what she would say next? “Sorry.”
Doki didn’t answer. Instead, she pulled a chair out, collapsing into it, staring into her tea. “I…” She took a long breath. “Thank you,” Doki settled on.
“Do they… does it happen often?” Mint asked. “The buzzing?”
Doki wondered if she could lie like this. “Yeah,” She said, “it does. I can’t… I can’t get away from it. That’s my life now, stuck with this.”
Mint didn’t answer. Doki could feel her musing, swirling between computers and servos and-
Another brush, another memory.
A long day cleaning, serving two patrons who came through. Jortel corp, suits looking for a few volunteers, offering good money. Mint knew it was the only way to start saving for anything, only way to do something more than sit behind the-
“Sorry, sorry.” Mint was shaking her head, re-orienting herself. “I didn’t… I was just looking at the connections. Didn’t mean to go that far.”
“It's fine,” Doki almost asked her about it, about the memories, about what else was in Mint’s past. It didn’t matter. This was all just a distraction, a moment of calm before Doki returned to the life of a corporate debtor.
“I…” Doki needed to leave.
“But- aren’t you going back to them?” Mint’s eyes narrowed, “you can’t do that? They’ll… they’ll just keep treating you like that!”
“What can I do, Mint?” Doki asked. “I’m a debtor-cybernetic. We don’t exactly have a lot of rights.” And she wasnt going to turn a code-wraith over to them.
“I can… we can!” Doki felt her ideas, half baked. Promising, sure. But Doki knew they couldn’t be.
“Mint, folk like me,” She shook her head, “I’ve been dealt my hand. That’s just how it is. No miracles left in this world. Not for us.”
“But-”
“Mint,” Doki stood, shaking the wear, the misery that she’d allowed to settle on herself. “I don’t know if you know this, but you’re literally one of the most powerful things man has ever made. Go do something with it. Something good. Leave people like me where we belong.”
“Where is that?” Mint’s words were to Doki’s back. Doki didn’t bother answering, not even when she felt a little shot of cold in her chest, a final dig into Doki’s computers before she was gone.
Doki could still feel the cold as she left, though she imagined it was just a lingering effect. Mint was a code-wraith, after all, more than power enough to leave some fragments of herself behind. Doki's handlers weren’t please with her waste of time, even as Doki excused it as finding an actually secure computer- the buzzers were going again, even if they were toned down several notches. She’d get sleep at least, someone had finally gotten over themselves.
There was nothing on the ride back. Doki couldn't stop thinking about the maid. That was what she was trying to keep it as. The maid. No one special, no one interesting. It was easier to think of people like that, made it easier to return to what had become her life.
She didn’t even get a debrief. It was just- return to your patrols, wait for a job.
Doki wasn't going to complain. She had rented herself a hotel for a few days, a few moments of rest after a job that left her feeling… empty. Alone, more so than she had been in a long time. And still, the memory of Mint clung to her, a cold shard of ice settled into her heart.
“Uh, hey, Doki.” The voice froze her. There was not a mouth at her chest, nor a speaker. There should not have been a voice coming from there.
Her look down was slow, careful, as though she might scare herself. Mint’s head, poking out from behind the flesh and wire she’d been hiding in, a quick look around the moldy room before she was leaping out, twirling once before bowing before Doki.
“Hey, Doki.”
“Mint?” Doki eyed her once, then shook her head. “Mint, what the fuck?”
“Well, you were talking about how strong I was,” A moment of Mint’s memory, bleeding over to her. A mother- no a teacher? Something like that, the echoes of the past remembered in Doki’s voice. “And I figured I would do something. Uh, get you. Out, I mean.”
Doki wanted to laugh at her faltering, at the way she was now standing there, looking so nervous. A code-wraith, nervous. “You-”
“What? I can't?” Mint asked. “Yeah, fuck you too. I’m going to do what I want.”
That did get a laugh out of Doki, even if it was short. “Can you…” She wanted to ask about all the little evil things that had been put in her, the poison and the buzzers and the bomb- but she knew the answer to that, didn’t she. For someone like Mint, turning those off would be a thought, a moment of focus, and no one save her would ever be able to control them. “Why?”
Doki didn’t know what she expected. “I feel like it,” it was said with a shrug and a wink, and Doki was laughing again.
“What the fuck,” Doki imagined it a moment, imagined being free. “I… I don’t know what to say.”
“Well,” Mint considered for a moment, “thank you Mint, you’re so cool.’ That’s a pretty good start.”
They were laughing again, and Doki was leaning back into her bed with it. “I… Thanks, Mint. I’m going to sleep while the buzzers are quieter. If-”
Mint’s little ‘oh!’ was the warning Doki got before Mint was in front of her, hands pressed into Doki's beach. Doki could feel the sliver of ice spreading, once again quieting her buzzers. It wasn’t just that- Mint was shot through her wires, wrapping around computers and mimicking antenna transmissions.
“You’re… you’re really good at that,” Doki said.
“It’s… It’s easy. Kinda like breathing, I think.” Mint was looking down to her hands, “I don’t do that anymore. But It’s nice to help. No matter what happens, you’ll be getting out of here.”
“Thank you.” She meant it. She imagined going back to Appalachia, or traveling to Florida, having fun on the beach there. She’d never seen the Atlantic, not while she was free to enjoy it. Maybe she’d even bail out entirely. The Union was the second safest place to be when a corpo was hunting you, it wouldn’t be a bad place to spend the rest of her life.
A momentary flash, an image of a cafe, Doki sitting at a table, Mint serving tea and biscuits and a dozen other things. Not a memory, imagination spurred by Doki's own musings. Doki laughed, “that’s it? Back there?”
“It’s home,” Mint had turned from her, even if she was still tripping nerves in Doki’s brain.
Doki thought about it, thought about going home to some dying ass town. “I get it.”
Sleep was never an easy thing for Doki. It was always nightmares, swirling memories of the bomb, of jobs past, of a dozen other things she was forced to do. Blood, pain, death. The things she sowed, the things that haunted her.
“I’m sorry.” Mint had not slept well. Doki could see the bags under her eyes, the way she was hunched over the little coffee maker.
“For what?”
“I..” Doki was seeing her dreams through Mint’s eyes. It was such a strange thing to see them like that, to know they were fake twice over, to feel Mint’s shock and fear, to feel her own emotions bleeding out into Mints.
“Oh,” Doki paused, then shrugged, “Mint… it’s just the nightly routine. You were going to see it one way or another.”
“That’s.. That’s it?” Mint seemed to want more, some admission or question or accusation.
Doki couldn’t tell what, so she shrugged. “That’s it.”
They were quiet for most of the morning, until the coffee woke Doki and Mint moved past whatever cloud Doki’s dreams had left on her. After that, it was planning.
“So, all of Yassud’s computers are interlinked,” Mint had drawn a diagram. That was being generous- “No it’s not, Mint, it’s just fucking fine.” Doki looked down at it, the box, the little shelves, the wires leading out. Mint might have been right, but Doki wasn’t going to admit that.
“Which means that if you can… do your thing, it’ll update all of the other computers. As long as your command line is of a high enough priority.” Doki paused, “uh, for normal people. I have no fucking idea how a code-wraith does things like this.”
“I suppose we are going to find out.” Mint said. She wasn’t looking at Doki’s little map. Doki saw a flash of herself, her eyes, the little fringe of hair, “I know I look good,” Doki started.
“Do you want help?” Mint cut her off, turning and pouting in mock offence.
Another laugh for them. It felt good, Doki realized. She wasn’t even alone in her head, but she didn’t mind. With the buzzers gone, with freedom around the corner…
“Ready?” Mint asked.
“Yeah,” Doki was smiling, “yeah, let's do this.”
It was such a simple thing. Mint was once more in her chest, floating through Doki’s cybernetics, waiting to strike. And Doki… she just went back. A debrief, an assignment, and then she was left alone. It was so simple to access one of the terminals, to check where she was to go next. And then Mint was gone, crawling through wire and circuit. Doki wasn’t quite alone- she could feel the ice in her wire still, but there was no brushing of Mint’s thoughts, no moment of excitement or shock bleeding over their… bond? Connection? Interface? Whatever it was.
And then… Mint was back, a static shock announcing her return, Doki cursing and shaking the hand that had been on the terminal.
“Well?”
“You have a two week job, and during it you’re going to get transferred to a team with clearance level above all of these idiots.” Mint said, “and after that, the name Doki is going to get scrubbed from the database. Nothing left.”
Doki felt her blood pumping, knew that here-
“Is where we leave,” Mint said, “not get caught, or you explode, or whatever the fuck. Turn and go, Doki.” It was good to hear that, it made the next part easier. Fifteen steps out, another twenty to the bus stop just outside the compound and then… then they were gone. They’d stay another night at the hotel, but after that…
“Appalatia or maid cafe?” They had to plan.
Doki had spent two hours wracked with nerves that no amount of assurances or proof could calm.
“Well, I figure, you know, we set up at my cafe, and then we go wherever. Have a nice base of operations. Did you know Yassud owns seventy three percent of South America’s iron deposits?”
Mint had been reading off random facts she’d found white rooting through their computers. Doki wondered if she was just exorcising them from her system, or if she thought Doki actually cared-
“Rude.”
“Sorry.” Doki said it with a smile. “Yeah, cafe first, sure.” She paused, “do you eat? Want to go grab some food?”
“You’re going to be nervous for the whole two weeks, aren’t you?” Mint asked.
“No, of course not.”
“I should have just scrubbed you out of the database immediately, huh?”
“How does kebabs sound, huh? We can test it out, see if a code-wraith can eat. Wait, do you use the bathroom? Fuck, it’d be kinda weird if you do. Is it like… bad code that comes out?”
"Doki!” But she was laughing, and so was Doki.
They passed the night like that. Mint couldn’t eat, and she wasn’t good enough at mingling with Doki’s brain to share taste without giving her a shot of memory with it. Doki took some time to buy a few shirts, a new jacket. Greens and leather, a whole new color scheme. “For a new life!” Mint had insisted on it, said something about new color being important. Doki believed her, or rather, she enjoyed watching Mint float through racks of clothes suggesting combinations and accessories.
“I know you’re thinking about me.” It was night time, and Mint’s chosen residence was the coffee maker. Hearing her voice from that raggedy speaker drew a laugh from Doki, even if it was a tired thing. “Goodnight Mint.”
“Goodnight Doki.”
It might have been the only night the AC hadn't failed Doki in a Chill-and-Rest. It didn't stop the dreams, of course. That night though… she saw the worst of her jobs. A union leader, taken alive. A mayor, legislating to feed the starving, shot. A civilian with a family and a home, who was at the wrong place at the wrong time.
She saw them, heard the accusations, remembered their families. She remembered the names she had been given, the curses, the screams.
“Doki,” She was being shaken- Doki flailed out, one hand balled into a fist, the other reaching for where she left her revolver.
“Fuck, Doki!” Mint, it was Mint. The ice in her wires, the thing keeping her alive, Mint and- and-
Mint was wiping tears from her eyes. Doki hadn’t even known she was crying. “Doki, hey, it’s…” What Could Mint even say to those dreams? What could she imagine were Doki’s reasons? All she’d done, for the dream of staying alive. Doki was- she was-
“You’re not,” Mint was reacting to something that would come, a thought flitting at the bottom of the heap that was driving pain into her heart and tears from her eyes.
“I am,” Doki said it through sobs and snot. “I am. I just want it to end but it never does Mint, it never fucking does.”
“Doki,” She didn’t deserve to hear her name spoken like that, so soft and sad. “Doki,” again.
Mint was around her, manifesting herself, pulling Doki back down into her bed, arms wrapped around her own, hand in hand, “it’s okay, Doki.”
It wasn’t, it never would be.
“It’s going to be okay.”