Work Text:
Inhale. Exhale.
Inhale. Exhale.
Exhale… exhale… exhale…?
Idunn blinked hard against the soft, yet somehow still too bright morning light and coughed. Finally, their shaking lungs pulled in another breath.
Curled unto themself, blanket tightly wrapped around their sweat dappled body, the thought of their sticky, cocooned body made them envision themself as some hideous bug. Perhaps being a bug would've been a mercy — they doubted bugs needed to remind themselves to breathe, doubted they greeted each morning lying down and counting the aches. Speaking of, what were the aches of the day?
With a quiet, labored groan, they moved from their side to their back; though their bedding was fluffy and warm, it may as well have been made of stone for the way their muscles seized against it. Already their brain tabulated the score. A horrible squeezing sensation assaulted their spine, muscles seizing and throbbing as though to rip from the bone.
"A…a…"
A wheeze was the most protest their lips could muster. What else… what else…? What else would fight them today?
Their jaw answered with eager promptness. What flash of pain seized their teeth was so sudden and so severe that their mouth locked open, drool escaping from the corners of cracked lips. Their body quivered pathetically. Help me… help… help…! Eyes frozen wide, they couldn't stop tears from leaking, dripping, mixing with their saliva and pooling into a disgusting mess beneath their head. It wouldn't be the first nor the last time their eyes would betray them — their right eye was already useless, vision blurred even without the aid of tears to the point of being a liability.
Their body hated them, and they hated their body right back. In their head, they flailed, they screamed, they roared and stomped, punched and kicked. A soup of emotions boiled within them. Frustration. Sorrow. Pain. And making all of these worse, hope. Somehow, even with their body doing its best each day to dash what little joy they could extract from life, Idunn couldn't help but hope they might wake up without the yoke of pain weighing them down. That one day, if they were good enough, whatever entity cursed them would take pity on them and lift its spell.
After all, the keyblade surely wouldn't have chosen someone who couldn't use it, right? This was surely a test. Slowly, the muscles that froze in an endless scream began to relax. Inhale. Exhale.
…Idunn was pretty good at tests. They rarely studied, but it didn't seem to matter much. If this was a test, then, surely success was bound to come. There was no need to study why this was happening to them, no need to fret. If they just woke up every day, eventually the day would come when they would pass this entity's test like all the others. A desperate pride began to bubble against the turmoil of their heart bursting from their lips in a stilted laugh. Yes, all heroes struggled — the struggle was what made their stories heroic to begin with. So then, surely this would all pay off. Surely the days they spent writhing in bed, or pressing their forehead against the cool glass window to watch their classmates spar below, or soaked in their own fluids against tiled floor wondering if the embarrassment of calling for help was worth it would pay off.
Vidar seemed to think so. Whenever he stopped by to hand Idunn their homework, his sure gaze never faltered. He always passed on Master Odin's compliments on their exemplary essays, made sure to give firm encouragement.
"A keyblade is just a weapon," he said once, hand placed unflinchingly on Idunn's shaking back as they had sobbed uncontrollably. "The real goal all of us are chasing is knowledge, and you're one of our smartest. Master Odin knows that. That's why you're here. He wouldn't have picked you otherwise."
His words had always been a little clinical — even in the midst of a breakdown, Idunn had noted that he could've been just a little more sensitive. Yet that somewhat stone-like disposition was its own comfort — he surely wouldn't waste words on sentiments he didn't sincerely believe. Idunn clung to those words in moments when their body rebelled, when Master Odin cast a disapproving eye over their form when he thought they weren't looking, when his voice dropped low in disappointment when Idunn stumbled through another apology explaining they had to miss class again.
Not that Idunn planned on missing class again. No, as soon as they could will their body to move for them, they'd be right beside their classmates. Laughing, and learning, and playing…
With brow set in determination, they swung their legs over the edge of the bed, ignoring the immediate nausea upon rising only to immediately be assaulted by a wave of dizziness. As though their bones had been rendered to dust in their body, they swayed.
"Enough already!" A fierce cry ripped through the haze of vertigo as they slammed their weight onto a rickety wooden desk, steadying themself at the expense of the few keepsakes that lived there toppling over.
Crumbling flowers naturally dried out from forgetfulness and the stagnant air of their room, the empty vase splashing dust into the air upon landing on its side. A chipped, faux gold medallion with some generic platitude inscribed on it given to all Scala students upon summoning their keyblade for the very first time rolling lazy laps across the desktop before dropping off the edge. A stack of months old fliers for food festivals and kite flying picnics and waterside music shuddered briefly before gently fluttering back into stasis.
Tears Idunn had thought finally finished spilled anew, fresh floods sliding over dried salt trails. Wet eyes avoided the simple mirror hung against the wall their forehead now thumped against; whatever dour countenance floated there could haunt them without their acknowledgment.
"Idunn? Is everything okay in there?!"
As though all their pain and misery were a mere affectation, Idunn shot up at the sound of Vala's voice on the other side of the wall, face dropping into a well practiced blankness, tears ceasing. They rubbed quick swipes across their face, swallowing hard two or three times as they did so to get rid of the thick mucus and rough edge clogging up their throat.
"I'm okay!" Idunn chirped, faltering only when they finally met their own gaze in the mirror.
Dark acorn brown skin with a ruddy nose and cheeks. Damp eyes so dark one could mistake them for the night sky. A cloud of bountiful curls barely scraping their heaving shoulders, doing their absolute best to wrap around their head and give a curtain's worth of privacy to their shuddering form. Glasses eternally smudged no matter how much they wiped at them.
Disgust rolled against their insides and they quickly tore their attention away from that sorry wreck, striding across the scattered mixture of crumpled paper and old clothes to quickly yank open the door.
On the other side stood their opposite.
Brows knit in concern, petal pink lips set in a pout halfway between indignant and worried, pale green eyes cupped within pale skin, framed by long pale gray hair, glasses immaculate. Vala crossed her arms across her chest and released a sigh, shoulders dropping under an invisible weight. Idly, Idunn wondered what she was so perturbed about. It wasn't as though any of this was new to either of them.
"I wish you wouldn't lie like that," Vala said, voice soft. "You know we can hear you crying, right? The walls aren't that thick…"
Idunn's gaze fell to the ground, flickering between their feet.
"I can cry quieter, if you want," they offered with a steeliness to their voice. "Wouldn't want you guys to lose sleep so close to the exams. I… it's not too distracting, is it? I'm sorry."
Somewhere along the way, their reply turned from sarcastic defensiveness to a self-conscious, raw honesty. Even their anger felt half-formed, a mere lash out before quickly turning inward, compressing their lungs until they hurt.
Another sigh, this time accompanied by a playful buzz of the lips as Vala puffed a strand of hair out of her face. It was as though the sadder Idunn became, the more she forced herself to compensate.
"Please! If we're losing sleep, it's because we can't get any to begin with. Master Odin has been pushing us past the usual quitting time for class and it's beginning to wear us down." She tilted her head with a bitter smile. "My guess is that he's worried for our performance, but he really doesn't get how this isn't helping…"
"So we're sleep deprived together, then? Finally, something I get to do with the rest of the class!" Idunn offered, rebounding suddenly as they spotted an opportunity to slip in some humor.
A snort ripped from Vala as Idunn cracked a wobbling grin before both of them crumbled into laughter, the unspoken tension finally beginning to dissipate. This, this was what Idunn liked most about Vala. Out of all of their classmates, she was one of the most willing to see the value in a well-timed joke, the most aware of laughter as medicine.
"Exhaustion is the great equalizer! Oh," Vala lowered her voice conspiratorially, mirth barely concealed beneath a sly demeanor, "do you think if we all sleep in on Mark of Mastery day, Master Odin will let us all pass? Surely he can't fail us all…"
"Vala, you're starting to sound like that blue blood…"
"Eraqus?!" Vala gasped, pressing a hand to her chest. "Oh no, you're right. We can't be that lazy. What sort of example would we be setting for the kids?" She paused, and then added: "That sounded like something a master would say, right?"
Idunn nodded solemnly. "Exactly as joyless as Master Odin. Good job!"
It was a near miracle how even this simple back-and-forth seemed to wash the pain from Idunn's bones. In a matter of a minute, the uncomfortable stickiness of dried tears and sweat were forgotten, the ache not gone but dulled enough to ignore. Why couldn't they speak more often? Why did Master Odin have to call Vala away, push her and the others to exhaustion, leave Idunn even more stranded than usual? Even though Idunn knew… they definitely knew… that Master Odin certainly had nothing so sinister in mind, why did it feel like he was doing his level best to make sure Idunn couldn't bask in the warmth of camaraderie for as long as they lived?
"…Hey, Idunn? Do you think you can make class today?"
The air turned frigid. Dryness invaded Idunn's mouth.
"If you can't, it's fine!" Vala prattled, seemingly ignorant of the sudden chill. "I just figured I would ask while I'm here. I miss seeing you around, and…"
Her words churned into mush. Whatever came out of her mouth was nonsense. All Idunn could hear was the thundering of their veins and arteries pushing blood through at astronomical speed. Of course. This pleasantry was a ploy. Doubtless Vala was judging Idunn the whole time, perhaps even listening to Idunn's earlier episode with disgust. Perhaps Master Odin had sent her to see if they were really ill today, if there was a chance that Idunn was faking. Their thoughts raced, spinning and swirling into incomprehensible shapes. Perhaps the tension finally made itself known on Idunn's face; perhaps the loud blaring noise of their thoughts had leaked into reality. Vala paused, stiff.
"Idunn?"
"I…" Sweat broke through Idunn's scalp. Without thinking, they began to thread their fingers through their hair, gently at first before gripping it with force. "I can't miss another day. Master Odin already thinks I'm dead weight… so…"
Vala made to grab Idunn's hands, but Idunn pulled away, withdrawing further back into their room.
"Don't worry about it!" Again, Idunn forced pep into their voice and gave a dead-eyed smile. "I won't keep disappointing him, or you, or the others. Give me a few minutes, please? I'll be down soon."
Dread of failure. Dread of disappointment. That's right, they had already made their decision to go. Suddenly, every ache and pain flooded back into them tenfold. Sickness battered their skull, swam in their gut. Oh, no. Oh, no. They can't, but they must, but they can't — no, this was a test, remember? They're good at tests. So all they needed to do was keep pushing against the horrible, sinking feeling, against their body, against their knowledge that today was not a good day for them. They couldn't go.
They had to go.
Vala's face set firm in some unreadable expression before she gave a half-hearted nod of acknowledgement.
"I'll let Master Odin know." She turned to leave, but hovered just a breath longer. "You worry me. Do you know that?"
"I'm okay."
"…"
With a small shake of her head, Vala began her walk back down the hall, leaving a suffocating silence in her wake. Idunn slowly closed the door and sank against its hardwood body, collapsing into a hyperventilating lump on the floor.
Enough already.