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43rd Teddy Bear [Video/Action]
[Nami went home. It's another tally on her list of people she dearly misses now—she marks them down and can count them off on her fingers. Mom... dad... Mr. Luffy... Nami left... Archie... J-Jilly.... Pao-Lin and Miss Lightning... Noel and Mr. Ling... Ace.... Lots of people are gone. She's been so afraid of being left alone, but she never considered maybe it wouldn't just stop at her mama and papa. She never considered that she herself were capable of leaving, either.
Maybe—someday... she'll be all alone.
And every time it hurts. It hurts! She counts off the names and it still makes her want to hide in her covers and cry. She's too young to appreciate that they're in their own worlds, where they belong. Lucky for her, not to know some were going to their deaths. Did she even have any pictures of some of them? She's got a few, but—they're not enough. Some people don't have any at all to hang up. It's awful, to sit there and see blank places on your wall where you could have so easily had more images... of loved ones you might not see again.
She spends the next few days collecting up as much as she can from the item shop, whenever Winry or Ed is willing to take her (well, one more willing than the other, all things considered). She has her pink camera, and if she can just get even more film for photos, she can get lots and lots of pictures. This is what her father did, right? He's the reason she has a picture of her and Nami together.
Thank you, papa. Thank you for giving her pictures to remember.
While she's at school, she'll call out to familiar faces, surprisingly eager.]
Let's take a picture together!!
[Out in her front yard, she excuses herself from her play time with her action figures and dolls to usher her friends over, if they visit, if they happen by. There are some she knows who take the trail often; she may or may not be betting on that.]
Can you take a picture with me??
[She's out of breath, just having caught someone she knows in the corner of her eye; what if they vanish in the next few moments, and she never catches them, and she grows up and forgets their faces? She calls out down the road, close to the smithy where Winry works (she likes to visit, sometimes; it's nice to stay there):]
Wait! Can we have a picture? Just one!
[Sometimes she just calls out to two people out on a stroll, friends, clearly friends or relatives or lovers, people who probably love each other like she loved her friends. She smiles and looks hopeful, and holds up her camera that hangs off her neck.]
Do you want a picture of you two??
[Eventually, a click. No flash. No film. She's all out.]
[Video]
[The feed is just of her laying on her bed sideways, holding her camera close to her. With all her thoughts circling her head, she's been trading out the camera for her stuffed plushies when bed time comes around. She turns on video, because it's also a good way to see people sometimes. Even if it gets harder and harder to find their... pages... She can't find some of her papa's old pages. She was sure she could remember where they were.
Her lips are pursed, and her camera is held against her heart.]
People go away... How do you make it stop hurting? ... I wish my memories were so good, I could remember like a movie. I wanna remember every little thing, but it's hard to remember so many little things... [Her eyes well up with tears. They drip into the small crease between her eye and nose, pools there as her voice goes low.] I don't wanna grow up and forget.
I don't wanna forget. What should I do?
[.....]
.... I need more film... for pictures.
Maybe—someday... she'll be all alone.
And every time it hurts. It hurts! She counts off the names and it still makes her want to hide in her covers and cry. She's too young to appreciate that they're in their own worlds, where they belong. Lucky for her, not to know some were going to their deaths. Did she even have any pictures of some of them? She's got a few, but—they're not enough. Some people don't have any at all to hang up. It's awful, to sit there and see blank places on your wall where you could have so easily had more images... of loved ones you might not see again.
She spends the next few days collecting up as much as she can from the item shop, whenever Winry or Ed is willing to take her (well, one more willing than the other, all things considered). She has her pink camera, and if she can just get even more film for photos, she can get lots and lots of pictures. This is what her father did, right? He's the reason she has a picture of her and Nami together.
Thank you, papa. Thank you for giving her pictures to remember.
While she's at school, she'll call out to familiar faces, surprisingly eager.]
Let's take a picture together!!
[Out in her front yard, she excuses herself from her play time with her action figures and dolls to usher her friends over, if they visit, if they happen by. There are some she knows who take the trail often; she may or may not be betting on that.]
Can you take a picture with me??
[She's out of breath, just having caught someone she knows in the corner of her eye; what if they vanish in the next few moments, and she never catches them, and she grows up and forgets their faces? She calls out down the road, close to the smithy where Winry works (she likes to visit, sometimes; it's nice to stay there):]
Wait! Can we have a picture? Just one!
[Sometimes she just calls out to two people out on a stroll, friends, clearly friends or relatives or lovers, people who probably love each other like she loved her friends. She smiles and looks hopeful, and holds up her camera that hangs off her neck.]
Do you want a picture of you two??
[Eventually, a click. No flash. No film. She's all out.]
[Video]
[The feed is just of her laying on her bed sideways, holding her camera close to her. With all her thoughts circling her head, she's been trading out the camera for her stuffed plushies when bed time comes around. She turns on video, because it's also a good way to see people sometimes. Even if it gets harder and harder to find their... pages... She can't find some of her papa's old pages. She was sure she could remember where they were.
Her lips are pursed, and her camera is held against her heart.]
People go away... How do you make it stop hurting? ... I wish my memories were so good, I could remember like a movie. I wanna remember every little thing, but it's hard to remember so many little things... [Her eyes well up with tears. They drip into the small crease between her eye and nose, pools there as her voice goes low.] I don't wanna grow up and forget.
I don't wanna forget. What should I do?
[.....]
.... I need more film... for pictures.
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