#I think about Mona and how Badly they react to ch 12 in general because they see the horror of making a wrong choice

[cursezoroark]

In the red sky, all Mona could see was smoke. The heat of ozone smothered their face as the S.S Paradise bellowed a far, wounded cry to the sea. If it could even be called a sea.

There was no reflection to look at when they looked down. Only the simple, red sludge.

In the silence that enveloped them, they remained lost, a bit forlorn, staring into the nothing. That’s why they didn’t at first notice Melia approach them, hands folded on the railings of the balcony.

“Hey.” She greeted, short. “How are you feeling?”

Mona shrugged.

“Have you eaten?” Another shrug. “Kenneth found some more rations, stashed inbetween the barrels. Which, by the way was a lot. Here.”

The smell of potatoes and jerky faintly wafted into Mona’s notice, catching their gaze. Partially mashed, partially cut potatoes were spread messily on a carved wooden plate, decorated with slices of Tauros Jerky. At a somewhat miserable attempt as a garnish, there was a slice of lemon sitting in the middle.

“Mosely wanted to make it, quote unquote ‘Fancy and Fresh’.” The blonde let out a soft giggle, as if lost in the memory. “And then Amber complained that if it was fancy, the potatoes had to be mashed, but Mosely likes them ‘unmushed’. I think they compromised pretty well!”

“…The lemon?” Mona muttered.

“Scurvy.” Melia deadpanned.

Nothing was to be said as Mona gingerly took the plate and handed utensils in their hands, and began to eat. Robotically, slowly, almost methodically. A careful demonstration to prove their gratitude to Melia, even if their stomach rolled with displeasure. She continued to stare at Mona, gently pleased with their appetite.

But wait. “Did you eat?”

“Some here and there.” Melia shrugged. “I wasn’t really feeling well, maybe I’m a bit seasick.”

The lie was drowned purposely by the rolling waves below, as the teenagers held their stares steadily at each other. Yet, Mona continued to eat: Meat, potatoes, meat, mush, meat, potatoes.

Finally, the garnish was left. Mona picked it up, gingerly, and gestured to Melia. “Here.”

Melia’s eyebrows scrunched. “I don’t want you to get sick.”

“I don’t like lemons.” Mona pushed the lemon towards her face, insistently near but never at her mouth. “And I don’t want you to get sick either.”

“Well,” She placed her hand on top of Mona’s, firmly pushing it back, an uneasy smile rising. “That makes the two of us.”

It was quickly becoming a struggle between the two, an almost comical fight at ship deck, pathetically shoving a single lemon slice back and forward. Quickly, Melia leaned back, letting the momentum of Mona’s catch them by surprise, and turned to run. Only for her arm to be caught by their hand, sticky with lemon juice, yanking her backward, both of them squawking in tandem. Yet, playfully, she twisted her arm out of their grip in an attempt to flee once again.

The chase continued, yet a pattern had emerged. It went something like this: In their struggle of strength, Mona’s arms pushed back against Melia’s, before she would slip through their grasp, letting go, running. They would circle each other, denials spouting from each’s mouth in the insistence of each other, before Mona would catch her arm, and start holding the lemon out.

However, like every pattern out in the universe, it had to break eventually.

A wrong misstep, and what caught Mona’s hand was not Melia’s arm, but the wooden boards below. Their foot had slipped, buckling ever so slightly before they caught themselves on their knees. Consequently, the lemon slid out of their hands, into the tar below. In turn, Melia’s face, which was almost gleeful, quickly morphed into fragile concern. She kneeled beside Mona, assessing them as she caught her breath.

“Are you Ok?”

Mona’s gaze didn’t turn to her, rather, they followed the trail of lemon juice off board. “…Are we both going to get sick?” They rasped.

Melia wheezed, amused, before arranging herself to sit down. “I hope not, but we’ve got more than enough lemons. Actually, there’s more than the meat and potatoes combined.”

“…I don’t think that’ll serve Kenneth well in the future.”

“Don’t worry about it. We’ll get home soon, remember?”

“Will we?” Mona replied, and the air instantly thickened with doubt. The question hung in the air, an unsteady base of whys and hows, dangerously teetering on the edge of something.

When Melia stayed silent, Mona’s gaze turned to meet hers, searching for that something in her pained look, her paled face, her trembling lips. And yet….

“We will.” She carefully took Mona’s hands into her own, cold, sticky, and clammy. “We will both return, and…and we will be ok and everything will be just fine if we stick together. Our friends will be back to normal, and we can solve everything. Don’t give up, ok? Please believe me.”

Mona’s gaze continued to burn through her, almost tearing her apart-

“Please.”

A steady sigh, before Mona’s gaze turned back to the Crimson Sea. Their face had betrayed nothing in this exchange, in this search, but only now showing the faintest of cracks. The fragile quiver of their mouth.

“Do you miss your dad?”

The question blindsided Melia, a gut punch. Denial, anger, grief, love, happiness rolled into her mind, intangible from what she could possibly decipher into proper words. But before she could answer-

“I miss my mom.”

Tears rose in Mona’s eyes.

“I really miss my mom, and she said the same thing you said. And-“ A sniffle broke out, and Melia’s heart cracked. In the distance of the Crimson Sea, she could almost visualize the scene of Nancy’s cold body, still and bloody. Madame X, once staring back, was now on board with them, a bitter truce. A stark reminder of her fulfilled promise, and fulfilled failures.

“Don’t lie to me. Melia. Don’t lie.”

Cold, damp arms wrapped around Mona’s kneeling figure, and Melia rested her head on their back. The two rocked back and forward with the ships movements, steady. The scent of lemons wrapped around Mona, sour and pungent.

“I’m sorry Mona. I’m so sorry.”

The waves continued to roll forward.