Done with the conversation, Kira started toward the castle. Joule jolted, hand upraised as if to stop her. "Wait, we need to talk about this."
Kira grabbed his outstretched arm, jerking him toward her as she swept his leg out from under him. He tumbled, jolting to a stop when she caught the collar of his light armor, one that was little better than leather strips over his vital area, likely the best he could afford given the state of his House.
His back toward the ground, he hovered, only her grip keeping him from falling. She lifted him a few inches toward her, the mask she normally wore gone. The carefree attitude, the cutting humor, all laid to the side.
Stripped bare, she gazed at him, letting him see her seriousness, the person who wouldn't let anything or anyone stand in the way of the pursuit of her goals. That was who he saw in that moment. The Phoenix. Someone who'd tasted loss and exacted the first phase of her revenge.
He swallowed thickly.
"Do I look like someone who gives a fuck what others think of me?"
Joule didn't answer.
Her lips parted in a snarl. "When you've experienced the worst life has to offer you, the little details no longer seem to matter so much. You choose what in this life affects you. What you will waste precious energy on. They want to belittle me? Mock me? I don't care. Let them challenge me. I'll win or I won't. The end. Everything else is details."
Joule touched her wrist lightly, naked vulnerability written in his face. Kira sighed and shook her head, lowering him until his butt rested on the ground.
She crouched before him. "Joule, you have a goal and a purpose. Focus on that. Forget about me, and don't let matters like these hold you back."
Joule swiped at his nose; his eyes suspiciously red as he avoided Kira's gaze.
Kira sighed, feeling like the lowest of the low. She hadn't meant to hurt his feelings or point out truths he wasn't willing to face.
"I thought we were friends," he finally mumbled.
He was so young.
"I'm awfully hard on my friends," Kira said, one hand rubbing her neck. "Ask Raider and Blue. They'll tell you how difficult a friendship with me is."
It would be tempting to think she was cursed. She didn't believe in such things. She was unlucky was all. Her standoffish nature and tendency to shoulder the brunt of any burden didn't help.
"I don't care," Joule said stubbornly. "You saved Ziva and me. You didn't have to, but you did."
"That doesn't make me a good person or a good friend," Kira pointed out.
His gaze held hers, unflinching. He didn't plan on letting go of this point.
"Is that the only reason you looked like someone had killed your dearest friend?" Kira asked finally, offering an olive branch.
His gaze slid away, his mouth setting in a stubborn line.
"Ah, I see," Kira said, hiding her smile. Joule might have wanted to warn her of the trouble brewing, but it wasn't the only reason he'd sought her out. "Having trouble?"
"It's different than I'd imagined it'd be," he mumbled.
"It always is," she murmured.
Achieving what people told you was impossible could feel like the greatest thing in the world. Miraculous and dreamlike. It could also leave you feeling empty—especially when reality didn't fit with what you'd envisioned.
"Does it make you want to give up?" she asked.
His gaze was sharp, the answer written on her face.
Kira’s laugh was husky. "Good. I'd think less of you if it did."
A shy smile bloomed at the praise. Kira was glad to see it. Joule and Ziva had managed to burrow their way through her defenses. As much as she wanted to push them out, she didn't have it in her.
They reminded her she hadn't been broken by war and loss, their unwavering faith whispering to the parts of her she'd buried deep. The parts that insisted she had once been more and could be again.
