“Was this worth your life?” The unnaturally deep murmur from under his mask sounded softer than before. Sincerity defied the mechanical voice.
When he leaned against his knees, the collar of his shirt slid enough to show a slit of skin, like a smile he tried to hold back. Black covered him from head to toe, intertwining him with the night. But the darkness which dawn failed to vanquish ate into the vulnerable skin at the nape of his neck, creeping into his uniform.
What did he look like beneath all that darkness?
“Was saving me worth yours?” she asked instead of answering, sitting back against the oak tree towering behind her.
“I'm not a good man. The rare chance to do good—that's worth everything.”
Seemed about right for a soldier in the heart of Ciondo, and yet Kira didn't believe him. “Maybe you aren't as bad as you think.”
He let out a chuckle that sounded terrifying through the voice changer.
“It was worth mine,” Kira answered finally. “I did what I had the power to do.”
His faceless mask turned her direction, and she glimpsed her own morphed image in the lens of his goggles. The glow of the Pixi Dust set her red hair aflame in the reflection. “Why not tell people to fight?”
“Revolution is won in our spirit.” Her heart quickened beneath his unshifting stare, especially because she couldn't see his eyes. “We all grew up in war. We know fighting and survival. We need to learn to live.”
Beats of quiet pulsed between them. Then came a low noise that could have been a groan or an affirmation. “What if you can't live?”
Such straight shoulders. Did he ever allow himself to relax? “Find someone to learn from. Train for life like you do war.”
Now she easily parsed the next noise. A chuckle that burned heat into her cheeks.
“It's true,” she whispered.
“You did this.” His head lifted to her words again. “No one has ever done this. You could be right.”
Sorrow emanated from him with the same strength as that attraction she felt. The heaviness of it tied a knot in her stomach. “You seem sad.”
He didn't speak for several seconds, and she didn't expect him to answer. He didn't strike her as the type to reveal anything personal. But maybe that mask of his and the fact that they'd never see each other again lent him honesty, because after a few seconds, he spoke in a flat tone. “I lost someone… You seem happy.”
“I fight for my joy.” Kira stared at the word 'life', etching it into her memory forever. “I'm sorry for whoever you lost.”
“We all lose people.”
“You can't accept sympathy.”
A hesitation. “Not really. No.”
“And you're a bad man. Bad men deserve no sympathy. No life.”
He twisted her way, and she needed to rip the helmet free to see his expression. To know him.
“You can't help trying to save people, can you?” he asked.
“You can't either. You're the one who came for me tonight when you don't know me. Why?”
“You were brave enough to steal uranium fifteen minutes from the Phaedra's tower. You seemed worth saving.”
She bit her cheek and stopped herself before saying he did as well, not wanting to antagonize him when he resisted her care.
“You need to leave soon,” he said. “You shouldn't be late for the market, or it'll raise suspicion.”
He knew where she worked?
Pushing to his feet, he extended his hand to her, and she accepted, if only to stay near him a little longer.
