elysia has seen much cruelty in the world, but it doesn't make it any easier to watch, especially when it concerns a child. hearing about this is one thing. witnessing it is another. there is no other word for her to describe it other than heartbreaking.
she takes a breath, and there is a small shaky quality to it. ]
If I said I wanted to love you, would you let me? If I said I already do, would you believe me?
which is to say that yves watches the memory with an almost guilty gaze - he's lived through it, he knows his history well. it doesn't occur to him to be upset or angry at the treatment he endured, because that would go against his goal to love everyone.
when elysia speaks, he is the one to cross the distance between them and hold her hand. he smiles gently ]
Yes. And... yes, but I don't think you love me in the way that I want you to.
[ that all-consuming true love that he wants so badly ]
[ you can be angry and upset at the people you love.
at least he can believe she loves him. that's something. she smiles back when he comes to hold her hand, and she reaches up to cup his cheek where his mask is with her other hand. ]
I don't want you to feel guilty for not being able to, or feel obligated into trying. I know that you'll tell me that you won't, and I know that you're in control of yourself enough that it's entirely possible you'd never feel inclined.
Even still... I don't think it's right for me to make such a selfish request.
[ to be without love even now is not for a lack of trying. he has been heartbroken more times than he cares to count, and he hasn't found it worth trying again. not here, not now.
and there is some part of him that asks: if you have to ask, is it truly love? shouldn't it be earned? ]
... you can.
[ but she's asked about his mask before, and if it has anything to do with that, he's worried he'll have to say no ]
[ that's said softly, almost as if she doesn't want him to hear.
she does remember things he's said, and the memories in the mirror are fresh. she does wish he'd try again with someone, but she can't ask for that now. ]
I want to see all of you. Please?
[ his worry isn't unfounded. she is persistent and consistent, straightforward and true when it comes to this particular request, but she is also ready for him to say no. ]
the thing is that he wants to. yves wants to believe that maybe, somehow, someone here could love him. this isn't like the island. people have been so kind. elysia has been so kind. she's been loving and he thinks that maybe, just maybe that if he did remove his mask then... she might not look away.
yves doesn't feel pain—but somehow, it hurts to have this hope in his chest. he holds onto her hands and clearly wrestles with it. he's not sure what makes him feel worse: the idea of disappointing her or the idea of selfishly wanting her love when there's still so much to her that he needs to understand. ]
... on the day that you feel like I can understand you and love you, then I can remove it.
[ softly, because he doesn't want to think only of himself, even if it's her request. it can't be a love that he only wants to receive, when elysia deserves just as much devotion turned to her, too. ]
And on that day, you can tell me if you could fall in love with me, too.
[ surprise flutters across her features like a butterfly landing on a flower petal and taking off again. his answer is both conditional and gives her what she wanted to know. it's almost disarming.
there is no way she could ever look away from him, not when she thinks he's so deserving of love and acceptance, of all the things he's lost, of all the things he's afraid to hope for. with his hands holding onto hers, she cups his face with both of her hands. she looks up at him with a smile. ]
Okay. [ it comes out almost like an incredulous laugh, almost for how it's more like a sigh. ] I'll take that deal.
I may not love you in the way you want, but I don't want to leave it unsaid. [ she wants to leave no doubt, no uncertainty. ]
I love you, Yves. I love your heart that wants to love and wants to be loved. I love the you who does so much to smile even if it's at the expense of so much more. [ how he broke and started feeling less. ]
I love you for saving that poor girl, and I love you even if you're afraid.
Thank you for wanting to understand me the way I want to be.
[ he's a fortunate person, to be in this heaven-adjacent place. so many people have told him that he's loved, even if it's not in the way that he wants. he's agreed that that's truth. adolphe, lucas, and now elysia. people that he can believe without a shadow of a doubt that they love him, through both actions and words.
when she cups his face in her hands, he lets himself sink into it. he closes his eyes, sighing. ]
... you don't need to thank me for that. [ he says softly ] Even though I also want to thank you for loving me.
[ and he has a feeling that she's going to say the same thing to him. all the ways in which they align, even though there are hiccups still. mismatched parts. like trying to solve a puzzle and being so sure of two pieces meant to be together, but they don't click exactly into place.
he doesn't want to force it, but he can still admire the dream. he lets his eyes open and meet hers. ]
I do love you too, Elysia. I love your playfulness and the sound of your teasing laughter. I love your sincerity and dedication to make sure people see the best of themselves, in the way that you see them.
I love you in all your mystery and distance, even though you still drift so close.
[ the contradiction of it all ]
... and if the love you want to receive is understanding, then I want to see every shade of you—in every light and shadow.
[ it makes her glad when he sinks into her touch, to see acceptance instead of fear. she has never liked it when people pulled away from her even if she understands it. in this, she knows a similar ache.
it's always a pleasant surprise when someone points out her distance, her contradiction, even in passing. ]
I won't let us get caught in a circle of thanks, hm?
[ even if she would say thank you again. ]
In every light and shadow.... I wonder what kind of painting I'll be to you.
[ the mirrors being to reflect a different memory, a different childhood.
it reflects almost like a story, a fairy tale.
there was a village called vladivostok 51. a gardener found a little girl with pink hair sleeping under the tallest ash and brought her to an orphanage. there, she grew, learned how to speak, learned how to read, and picked out her own name after reading it from a storybook (8:53 to 10:52).
the people around her loved her, and she loved them back, but one day, visitors from outside the village, visitors elysia would later in the future work with, came and detained every villager, as if investigating and searching for something or someone. they did not find what they were looking for and came back twice more until elysia couldn't bear it anymore.
even as young as she was, a part of her knew they were looking for her. she didn't know why back then, but she knew it was because of her.
fear never came easily to her, but leaving the people she cared about so deeply may have been the first time she grew a little afraid. she could not stay afraid for long because her next desire was to travel the world.
[ traveling the world was always out of reach. their island was surrounded by choppy waters, and they were isolated and shunned by all other people. yves never held it against anyone—he understood the ways in which people did what they could to protect their own.
he can't say that he's surprised to see the way in which the rest of the world still has its aches and growing pains, and yet so much beauty at the same time. even still, he believes that elysia is right. there was no true sanctuary. ]
... sometimes people ask me what I think heaven would've been like. And I get to tell them that to me... it's just being in the same place as the people that I love. Seeing my friends again.
[ there's a moment's hesitation where it can be seen that elysia wants to deflect, in how she glances at her own reflection instead of looking at yves. ]
Not usually. We have an unwanted visitor who has the ability to corrupt anything, so she made it possible.
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elysia has seen much cruelty in the world, but it doesn't make it any easier to watch, especially when it concerns a child. hearing about this is one thing. witnessing it is another. there is no other word for her to describe it other than heartbreaking.
she takes a breath, and there is a small shaky quality to it. ]
If I said I wanted to love you, would you let me? If I said I already do, would you believe me?
no subject
which is to say that yves watches the memory with an almost guilty gaze - he's lived through it, he knows his history well. it doesn't occur to him to be upset or angry at the treatment he endured, because that would go against his goal to love everyone.
when elysia speaks, he is the one to cross the distance between them and hold her hand. he smiles gently ]
Yes. And... yes, but I don't think you love me in the way that I want you to.
[ that all-consuming true love that he wants so badly ]
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at least he can believe she loves him. that's something. she smiles back when he comes to hold her hand, and she reaches up to cup his cheek where his mask is with her other hand. ]
How do you want me to love you?
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yves can't. ]
I don't want to answer.
[ he says so plainly, so honestly ]
I don't want you to feel guilty for not being able to, or feel obligated into trying. I know that you'll tell me that you won't, and I know that you're in control of yourself enough that it's entirely possible you'd never feel inclined.
Even still... I don't think it's right for me to make such a selfish request.
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[ there's no reproach to her questions or even a hint of wanting to persuade, only a light and gentle wondering. ]
All right.
[ she isn't going to push for this answer. she will push for something else. ]
If you won't make a selfish request, can I?
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[ to be without love even now is not for a lack of trying. he has been heartbroken more times than he cares to count, and he hasn't found it worth trying again. not here, not now.
and there is some part of him that asks: if you have to ask, is it truly love? shouldn't it be earned? ]
... you can.
[ but she's asked about his mask before, and if it has anything to do with that, he's worried he'll have to say no ]
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[ that's said softly, almost as if she doesn't want him to hear.
she does remember things he's said, and the memories in the mirror are fresh. she does wish he'd try again with someone, but she can't ask for that now. ]
I want to see all of you. Please?
[ his worry isn't unfounded. she is persistent and consistent, straightforward and true when it comes to this particular request, but she is also ready for him to say no. ]
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the thing is that he wants to. yves wants to believe that maybe, somehow, someone here could love him. this isn't like the island. people have been so kind. elysia has been so kind. she's been loving and he thinks that maybe, just maybe that if he did remove his mask then... she might not look away.
yves doesn't feel pain—but somehow, it hurts to have this hope in his chest. he holds onto her hands and clearly wrestles with it. he's not sure what makes him feel worse: the idea of disappointing her or the idea of selfishly wanting her love when there's still so much to her that he needs to understand. ]
... on the day that you feel like I can understand you and love you, then I can remove it.
[ softly, because he doesn't want to think only of himself, even if it's her request. it can't be a love that he only wants to receive, when elysia deserves just as much devotion turned to her, too. ]
And on that day, you can tell me if you could fall in love with me, too.
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there is no way she could ever look away from him, not when she thinks he's so deserving of love and acceptance, of all the things he's lost, of all the things he's afraid to hope for. with his hands holding onto hers, she cups his face with both of her hands. she looks up at him with a smile. ]
Okay. [ it comes out almost like an incredulous laugh, almost for how it's more like a sigh. ] I'll take that deal.
I may not love you in the way you want, but I don't want to leave it unsaid. [ she wants to leave no doubt, no uncertainty. ]
I love you, Yves. I love your heart that wants to love and wants to be loved. I love the you who does so much to smile even if it's at the expense of so much more. [ how he broke and started feeling less. ]
I love you for saving that poor girl, and I love you even if you're afraid.
Thank you for wanting to understand me the way I want to be.
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when she cups his face in her hands, he lets himself sink into it. he closes his eyes, sighing. ]
... you don't need to thank me for that. [ he says softly ] Even though I also want to thank you for loving me.
[ and he has a feeling that she's going to say the same thing to him. all the ways in which they align, even though there are hiccups still. mismatched parts. like trying to solve a puzzle and being so sure of two pieces meant to be together, but they don't click exactly into place.
he doesn't want to force it, but he can still admire the dream. he lets his eyes open and meet hers. ]
I do love you too, Elysia. I love your playfulness and the sound of your teasing laughter. I love your sincerity and dedication to make sure people see the best of themselves, in the way that you see them.
I love you in all your mystery and distance, even though you still drift so close.
[ the contradiction of it all ]
... and if the love you want to receive is understanding, then I want to see every shade of you—in every light and shadow.
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it's always a pleasant surprise when someone points out her distance, her contradiction, even in passing. ]
I won't let us get caught in a circle of thanks, hm?
[ even if she would say thank you again. ]
In every light and shadow.... I wonder what kind of painting I'll be to you.
[ the mirrors being to reflect a different memory, a different childhood.
there was a village called vladivostok 51. a gardener found a little girl with pink hair sleeping under the tallest ash and brought her to an orphanage. there, she grew, learned how to speak, learned how to read, and picked out her own name after reading it from a storybook (8:53 to 10:52).
the people around her loved her, and she loved them back, but one day, visitors from outside the village, visitors elysia would later in the future work with, came and detained every villager, as if investigating and searching for something or someone. they did not find what they were looking for and came back twice more until elysia couldn't bear it anymore.
even as young as she was, a part of her knew they were looking for her. she didn't know why back then, but she knew it was because of her.
fear never came easily to her, but leaving the people she cared about so deeply may have been the first time she grew a little afraid. she could not stay afraid for long because her next desire was to travel the world.
she wanted to look for her paradise, just like the protagonist in a story. (19:36 - 26:55)
her childhood, at least, was filled with lights. ]
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he can't say that he's surprised to see the way in which the rest of the world still has its aches and growing pains, and yet so much beauty at the same time. even still, he believes that elysia is right. there was no true sanctuary. ]
Were you able to create it?
Your paradise?
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she smiles, but there is almost enigmatic quality to it. ]
... When I was still living on Earth, I died before I could.
[ there's a beat, and her smile becomes more genuine. ]
But there is a space in the Elysian Realm, where I reside now, that you could call my paradise. It's where I remember everyone I have ever loved.
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... sometimes people ask me what I think heaven would've been like. And I get to tell them that to me... it's just being in the same place as the people that I love. Seeing my friends again.
[ he understands ]
I'm happy for your paradise, Elysia.
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[ this, at least, she knows they're alike on and what makes it so easy to talk to him. ]
I'd add you to my Elysium Everlasting.
[ if only she could be a little embarrassed naming things after herself or her namesake. ]
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I'd be happy to be there, if only I could just get a bit more time with you.
... that's the sentiment behind creating it, isn't it?
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[ she hates being alone. ]
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... do you get to create new memories in your paradise?
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[ her smile is as sure as ever. ]
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[ and he smiles back, tucking her hair behind her ear ]
... but before coming here, I mean.
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[ she and her friends are gatekept. ]
But my Elysium Everlasting has only seen one new visitor in these last 50,000 years. You have to get the approval of all my friends first.
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Does... it ever get lonely?
[ even if she's able to keep her memories of everyone she's ever loved with her ]
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[ ... ]
But if they were to ever be wiped from the Realm and I'd be without them in any way.... I would be lonely.
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[ to just be WIPED from the REALM? ]
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Not usually. We have an unwanted visitor who has the ability to corrupt anything, so she made it possible.
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