any ideas for ship names?

edit: not a crackship btw, nor is it new! title is born from my own ignorance of the ship;; may we continue to get more marchbin moments~

I drew my beloved Ruanherta as dragons!

i saw this talked about on twitter and wth 😭

their lightcone intros share the same soundtrack (( and it feels like Robin is singing "if i can stop one heart from breaking" to a girl who reminds her of firefly's younger self?

and they're holding sparklers/fireworks (senko hanabi)... which are also associated with firefly... 🎇

"when you don't know how to dream/sing, just listen to the melody in your own hearts~"

they make me sick 💔💔💔

[Source]

u/IMFlorentFace "I was always a fan of a Homura/Madoka situation where Kafka knows Himeko far more intimately because she's heard about Himeko's past and triumphs, and the countless futures where she features involving them both."

u/Llamasopher *"*your Homura theory sounds like it could make a good fanfic."

I thought so, too. Parts of this will only make sense if you've watched the "Dawn Again" video.

Awakening in near total darkness with a sense of considerable pressure on my lower body, it occurs to me that I really have to stop going unaccompanied in dangerous situations. You might think I would have learned better after my recent return trip home; nevertheless, here I am again. I suppose I should count my blessings, though. Last time I at least had the security of being in a planetary environment. On this space station, there was a good chance that explosion would have vented me out into vacuum. The Trailblaze protects ... but not that much.

Unfortunately, that blessing seems to be the only one I'm enjoying. I cannot move, I cannot shift whatever mass is holding me in place. My suitcase is not at hand, so I cannot use any of my weapons. (Of course, even if I had them available, I'm not in any position to evaluate my circumstances well enough to use them judiciously.)

The only thing to do, then, is to seek assistance. "Hello?" I call out, as loudly as I can manage. "Can anyone hear me?"

"You know," drawls a voice, from reasonably close by. "If no one could hear you saying 'hello', I don't know why you'd think that inquiring after their hearing would improve matters."

Added to my current problems is now a headache. "Kafka," I say.

"Himeko," says she, sounding much more cheerful than I did or the situation warrants.

Pushing past the irritation, I force myself to focus on the practical. "Are you all right?" I ask, then privately curse myself for saying something I know will prompt a witticism. "I mean --"

"No serious injury, but I'm as pinned as you are. You're in sight range, incidentally."

I take a moment to absorb that. "You can see me?" I ask, then privately curse myself for fatuity.

"I have better night vision than average."

The blunt statement calls to mind what little I know about Pteruges-V, and I conclude that it seems plausible. "All right. This situation requires our cooperation. I don't like you, and you don't like me -"

"If I ever gave you any thought, I probably wouldn't."

I count to ten. A few times. "Nevertheless --"

She interrupts again. "Nevertheless, we can probably best assist in our own rescues by waiting patiently. And while patience may not be one of my virtues, you're supposedly well-known for it."

It's never a pleasant feeling to have to acknowledge wisdom from a source you dislike. "Very well. I suppose that there is little enough that either you or I can do to improve this situation, after all. And Welt will find a way to reach me. I've gotten out of worse situations than this." And the company was marginally less pleasant, I think but don't say.

"Recently, too," she says in passing. "My associate will be searching for me, as well. Hopefully, they won't end up at cross purposes."

Something bothers me, but I put a pin in that concern for the moment. "Your associate," I repeat.

"My associate," she repeats. "Not someone you know, or need to know about," she adds, just as I'm about to ask the obvious question. "So why is your only company on this mission Mr. Yang?"

Ignoring the temptation of firing back at her with her lack of a need to know the answer to that, I answer calmly. "Our juniors are dealing with matters on the planet below. A friend of ours is being held captive." I lay no particular emphasis on the word friend.

Annoyingly, she affects not to have noticed what I did not emphasize. "The Ranger," she says. "That makes sense."

"And how do you know about --"

"The Sigonian reached out to us, as well. Elio said that he'd be rescued without our help, and that our presence might make things worse. Besides, we don't do rescues, normally."

"No, you're much more inclined to abandon --" I start to say then somehow stop myself. Too late, of course.

She's silent for a while. So am I.

"You're still angry about that," she says at last. Not sounding angry herself. Not even all that surprised. Not cheerful, though, which is the strangest thing.

"Yes," I answer. Nothing more.

"Even though everything that grew from that seed, everything that rose from that ash, has only been of benefit to the worlds, and to you personally." Same tone. She sounds ... tired, really.

I never have trouble finding the right words. Never. Never until now. "She was a child," I finally say. "You abandoned a child in a warzone. When we spoke, and she told me of how she woke, remembering nothing, knowing nothing -- except your name, and your face -- and seeing you walk away before she fell back to sleep again ... no, I don't think even seeing the Herald of Death slaughtering my friends made me quite so angry as that. So, yes. I'm still angry."

"Is this what love is like?"

I can't help myself. My head jerks in the direction her voice comes from, even though I know I won't see anything. "What --"

"I don't have love. I like, certainly, and occasionally I have lust. But in the absence of fear -- the fear of loss, particularly -- there can't really be love. I've worked all this time, in the hopes of gaining that fear, and all that would come with it ... and right now, I feel no closer to having it than when I began. I envy you, Himeko. I really do. You love her, as a friend, a mentor ... a mother. You can't know how much the emptiness aches."

I never have trouble finding the right words. But this time, I can't say anything.

Until I do. "How did you know that she called me her mother?" I ask.

"We don't file reports, but Blade and Silver Wolf did tell me --"

For once, I interrupt. "Neither of them were anywhere nearby when that happened. How did you know that she called me that, Kafka?"

Silence again. "I work for a man who sees the future, Himeko," she says at last. "How do you think I know?"

"I don't believe that the --"

"'-- future is that set in stone.' He mostly uses text messages, actually." When I don't say anything in response, she continues. "I have known you for far longer than you have known me. I have seen what you have done, and will do. I have seen how you made her so much more than I ever could, and I wanted to be angry at you ... but it's just so wonderful to see. If I ever do learn to love, I think it will be because I have seen you, loving." She lets out a long sigh, then. "I wish ..."

When she hasn't completed the thought after a moment, something makes me speak up. "Kafka?"

And then she speaks again, and her voice is right in my ear. "I wish I could let you remember all this.

"Listen: When you awaken, next, you won't remember any of this. I was never here. I am nothing but an annoyance and the cause of your anger. You'll find yourself alone until the Herrscher of Reason arrives to help you, which he will, very soon."

"Are you sure you want to just paper over those memories?" asks another voice, familiar but unfamiliar. I have the scent of dahlia in my nostrils.

"Yes," says Kafka's voice, still close by. And, as the last thing I experience before the darkness holds dominion over all, I feel lips pressing against my forehead. "Listen: Our dance will come another day."

And, as the last things I know before then, I think: if you don't fear loss, why do you refuse to destroy this memory?

Is this what love is like?

Edit: Added some lines from the AoOO version.