The Doll found herself before the door to Malina's room for reasons she herself didn't understand. The Doll told herself it was to check on her well-being after what Father said, but this was something that was far from required from The Doll.
Sighing The Doll looked out the window, gazing upon the crescent moon lying in the endless sea of black that was the sky. The Doll had stayed by Lukaz’s bedside until nightfall, a time that was more than appropriate. It appeared as though The Doll was being a good fiancée who was worried for her partner's well-being, but truthfully The Doll had only stayed so long because she was unsure of where she should go on her last day off before class started back off.
The Doll could have gone to her own room to work on some schoolwork, but The Dolls mind was wandering far too much to produce acceptable work. This constant wandering of The Dolls mind also shut down the prospect of working towards fixing the gaps in knowledge she held. As for fixing the problem of the duel, the headmaster claimed that he was already setting something up to deal with it, so The Doll shouldn't impede upon that.
So rather than do something The Doll instead chose to waste the day away doing nothing.
After The Doll had finished wasting the day away and got up to leave, she noticed the headmaster sitting outside the curtain as if waiting for The Doll to leave. He didn't acknowledge her; he didn't say a word to her. Instead, he simply walked past The Doll into where Lukaz lay. The Doll wanted to question him to ask what he had planned for the duel or how he was able to use his old magic.
The Doll wanted to ask how Malina was doing after he left. But she couldn't; the words weren't able to leave The Doll's lips. She couldn't question someone above her like the headmaster.
The Doll truly was useless.
Looking away from the window The Doll steeled her gaze on Malina's door, preparing herself to face Malina in her current state. If Malina was still in the same state Father had left her in, The Doll wondered what she would do to remedy this. Why did The Doll even feel as though she would have to help Malina? She was dealing with the consequences of her own foolish decision to speak back to Father.
No Malina was only dealing with this because she didn't understand; she was just trying to help The Doll. It was really The Dolls' fault Malina had to face Father's wrath, so showing up to comfort her would only be polite even if it was unnecessary.
The Doll could also use this as a chance to tell Malina to stay away from her to avoid something like this happening again.
No.
The Doll was sure that Malina wouldn't go for that; there wasn't even a point in bringing such a solution up. Yes The Doll was certain that bringing such an idea up would be pointless. The Doll's mind was merely wandering again.
With a deep breath The Doll decided to stop delaying and pushed open the door to Malina's room. When The Doll took her first steps into the room, her eyes immediately landed on Malina, who still sat against the wall with her head in her lap as if no time had passed since The Doll left.
The Doll walked over to Malina and sat down on the bed next to her.
For a moment she simply stayed there in silence, staring at Malina, who did nothing to acknowledge her presence. Using this moment of silence The Doll examined Malina, who looked the same as she had this morning. She still wore the same pajamas, and her hair was still undone, showing its natural waves. Yet despite physically looking the same as when The Doll left her, Malina lacked the usual energy The Doll had grown accustomed to seeing from her.
Without a word, Malina finally acknowledged The Doll's presence. She lifted her head from her knees and leaned it against The Doll's shoulder. The Doll stiffened at the sudden contact but made no moves to stop Malina.
Unsure of what to do The Doll felt an arm move up over Malina's shoulder, pulling her in a half hug. It was as if there was this instinct that was insistent The Doll do whatever she could to comfort Malina in this situation. But The Doll didn't know why she wanted to comfort her. All The Doll did know was that this instinct came from this foreign feeling The Doll always felt around Malina.
The Doll chose to embrace this silence for a moment before breaking it with the necessary question, “Are you okay?” The Doll had so many other questions she wanted to ask Malina, but this was the only one she could bring herself to ask.
It made no sense that The Doll ask this when she had so many other things that could be talked about. But it felt like the right answer to ask that question. The Doll didn't have any explanation to support this conclusion; it just simply felt right.
The Doll felt Malina's head sink into her shoulder as she said, “Yeah.” Her voice was far quieter than The Doll was used to hearing from Malina. Malina's usual high and energetic voice now simply sounded defeated.
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The next question rolled naturally off The Doll’s tongue yet again, this time with more logic behind it. “Do you want to talk about it?” The Doll knew Malina wasn't actually okay; she'd heard people speak like this before. Asking this was simply a good way to get somebody who was sad to talk about why.
But why couldn’t The Doll simply ask Malina what she wished to know directly? She was sure Malina would be likely to tell her.
The Doll felt Malina's head nod against her shoulders, confirming that she wanted to talk about it without speaking. Rather than push Malina to speak, The Doll simply waited until she chose to talk, yet another action that made little sense.
After a moment Malina spoke again, “I-I-Its n-not.” The Doll felt the tears that stopped Malina from speaking begin to wet her shoulder.
For reasons The Doll once again could understand began rubbing Malina's shoulders. "It's okay.” This situation felt oddly familiar to The Doll as if she'd been in Malina's shoes before.
Malina, seemingly reassured by The Dolls' comforting, slowly subsided her tears. “It wasn't my fault what happened to her.” This declaration confused The Doll, as Father seemed to imply what happened to this mystery girl was entirely Malina's fault.
Wanting Malina to elaborate further but not wanting to upset her The Doll simply asked, “What happened to her?” The simple question caused Malina to bury her head deeper into The Doll’s shoulder. The Doll began to worry she may have pushed Malina too far as she continued to silently rub Malina's shoulders, urging her to be okay.
Fortunately Malina decided to answer The Doll’s question, “Father took her away sh-she was mine, and Father took her away from me.” Malina's voice began to get ladened with tears again as she spoke more about this girl.
Despite herself The Doll felt a slight twinge from a different foreign emotion The Doll had never felt as Malina spoke about this girl. The way Malina referred to this girl as hers intensified this feeling that The Doll had never once felt before this moment.
With great effort The Doll managed to push this feeling away, it being outweighed by The Doll’s want to comfort Malina. The Doll shifted from rubbing Malina's shoulder to stroking her hair, allowing her fingers to run along its curly texture. The Doll really did find herself liking this curly hair for reasons she couldn’t explain.
In a quiet, comforting voice The Doll said, "You're right; it's not your fault.” The Doll knew saying this didn't make sense. The Doll couldn't claim it wasn't Malina's fault without knowing any details. The Dolll didn't know what happened to this girl; she didn't even know her name, but she also knew she didn't want what happened to be Malina's fault.
The Doll waited for Malina to respond, but the response would never come. Instead The Doll felt Malina's head slacken against her shoulders as a quiet snoring filled the room. The Doll didn't know that Malina snored when she slept; it was kind of—
The Doll didn't finish her thought as she realized where she remembered this feeling from. As she sat there with Malina sleeping against her shoulder The Doll felt a wave of remembrance fall upon her. It reminded her of back when she was a child, back before she was The Doll, back when Mother was still alive; this was how she would comfort her.
Tears began to well up in The Dolls eyes as she recalled this memory. In this moment The Doll found herself stuck in the past, stuck in the memory where Mother would do this for her. The Doll preferred not to think of the past she lived by the words Father drilled into her.
Repress.
Ignore.
Move.
Thinking about the past was pointless for The Doll there was no going back to when she still had a name. There was no bringing Mother back; she couldn't undo the incident that occurred all those years ago.
Yet despite the uselessness in dwelling on the past The Doll felt the tears freely run down her cheeks. It was a ridiculous thing to be crying about; Mother had died twelve years ago. Beyond that The Doll was the last person who deserved to shed tears over Mother's death. If The Doll had been more competent, she could have stopped Mother from dying in the first place. The Doll could have stopped the incident from occurring.
What would Mother think of how The Doll was acting?
The question crept into The Doll’s mind before she could stop it; she couldn't help but wonder how Mother would feel knowing The Doll was crying over her death. But it wasn't just Mother's death The Doll was crying about telling herself that would be a lie.
The Strings.
The duel.
These feelings about Malina.
All of it made The Doll feel so overwhelmed in this moment. Ever since waking up this morning, she hadn't truly attempted to find the right solution; she kept allowing herself to be distracted. The Doll kept acting as though these emotions that distracted her were a reasonable excuse to do nothing to fix these issues.
Had The Doll actually made an attempt to fix anything since this morning?
No.
The Doll hadn't truly attempted to find the right answer; she just made excuses for her own incompetence. Mother would be disappointed to see her daughter act like this; it was a disgrace to the Ashencroft legacy she was certain Mother would be disappointed in her.
Bringing her hand up to her face The Doll wiped the last of her tears from her face and gently laid Malina on the bed, careful not to disturb her sleep. As quiet as she possibly could The Doll slid off the bed and began tiptoeing across the floor.
The act would likely look ridiculous if Malina were to wake up, but The Doll found herself not wanting to wake Malina right now. What The Doll was doing, she would need to do alone at least for now.
The Doll crept along the floor towards Malina's bathroom, memories of what happened in there yesterday filling her head. She knew what she needed to do first to take a step towards finding the right answer for one of her problems.
It was time for The Doll to talk to The Strings of her own accord.