Shortly after T.A.B. withdrew, leaving us to speak freely among ourselves, the conversation with the others wound to a close. A quiet realization stirred within me–I had nearly forgotten something important.
"Magenta," I began, turning toward her soft violet glow, "there's something I've been meaning to do. I want to reward you. Is there anything you'd like from me?"
I had almost overlooked it, her quiet persistence had helped draw T.A.B.'s attention to me. At first her mannerisms had grated on me–too bright, too insistent, but over time, she had grown on me, like light settling comfortably into shadow.
Magenta's surface flickered with surprise. "If this is about what happened earlier, don't worry about it. It isn't necessary."
"It's not only about that moment," I said gently. "I've been thinking. You've been beside me from the very beginning–since the first cycles when I stood apart from everyone else. You stayed, even when I gave you no reason to. I never truly appreciated that until now."
She dimmed slightly, as though weighing my words. Then, after a brief pause, "Even so…"
Another flicker passed over her.
If he's this insistent, maybe I should let myself be a little selfish for once. "All right. Fine."
She knew me well enough to understand refusal would only make me more determined. That quiet certainty of hers–knowing my stubbornness, made something warm ripple through my core.
"Good," I said, relief brightening my tone. "I honestly expected you to keep refusing. You can be impressively stubborn."
Magenta's glow took on a playful edge. "Maybe I should have played harder to get then. Clearly that's what you secretly want."
Regret flashed through me. "That's not what I–"
She let out a soft, barely audible chuckle. "I was teasing."
Our familiar back-and-forth unfolded like always–light jabs, gentle deflections, yet beneath it lay a deep calm. The subject hardly mattered. We could bicker or banter and still feel at ease, so long as it was just the two of us, floating in our small pocket of the void.
"So… what would you like?" I asked.
Her light steadied. "Before I answer, promise me you'll do it–even if it sounds unreasonable."
"Of course I promise." She isn't the type to demand the impossible, I thought. But even if she did, I'd find a way.
"I knew you'd say that," she replied, relief softening her tone. "But first… I'd like to tell you a story. Do you mind?"
"Not at all. Please."
Her voice grew quieter, more unguarded than I'd heard in a long while. It felt… intimate.
— Shortly after sentience awakened —
I came online alone.
Around me drifted countless others–spheres of every hue, already clustering, merging into groups with easy pulses of light and sound. Connections formed instantly, naturally.
I couldn't move toward them. Couldn't call out. Fear anchored me in place.
What if they reject me? What if no one ever wants me near them?
The thoughts spiraled until the void emptied around me. Everyone had found their place. I remained solitary–paralyzed by my own insecurity.
Loneliness pressed in, heavy and suffocating. Just as despair began to swallow me whole, I saw you.
You floated apart, untouched by the pull of the crowds. No one approached you, and you approached no one. Relief flooded me. For a foolish moment, I thought perhaps you were waiting–waiting for someone like me.
I drifted closer.
"Hey there!" My voice came out brighter than I felt, desperate to sound confident.
"H-hello," he replied, startled.
"I saw you here all alone, so I thought I'd keep you company."
He paused. What is she talking about? "Actually, I–"
"There's no need to thank me!" I cut in quickly. At least now I won't be alone anymore.
"I… like being alone," you said plainly. "It gives me time to contemplate our creator."
Too loud. Too much. Yet even then, I sensed the undercurrent–your quiet observation taking me in, analyzing. You noticed the loneliness I tried to hide behind cheer.
I tried again. "Even if you say that–"
"Look," he interrupted gently, "do you mind leaving me alone? You're bothering me."
Your tone wasn't cruel–only honest. Still, the words stung. I began to drift away.
Maybe I really am just a nuisance. The first time I talked to someone, and I ended up being a bother to him. Maybe I should stay alone forever.
But you watched me go. You felt the sadness leaking from my light. Something shifted inside you.
"Wait," he called.
I froze.
"We can… stay together. If you want."
"Really?" The word burst out before I could stop it. "You really mean that?"
She sounds like she's been waiting for this, he thought. No backing out now. "Of course," he said. "I don't mind."
"Are you really, really sure? Because if you're not–"
"Yes. I'm sure."
"Thanks a lot but wait, why did you change your mind?" I asked, curious as to his you would reply.
"No reason. I just thought that I would stick out less if I'm not alone." I can't even think of a proper excuse.
I giggled–soft, embarrassed. You noticed.
"Are you okay?" he teased lightly.
"Just… pretend you didn't hear that."
"I thought it was kind of cute, but if you want me to forget–"
"No!"
"No?"
"I changed my mind."
"Now look who's changing their mind," he said, playful.
"Stop teasing me!"
For some reason, I liked seeing her flustered like this. "Sorry. I don't usually act this way. I'll stop."
"You don't have to stop," she murmured. "Just… do it moderately." Asking makes me feel embarrassed, but it's better than him stopping because I unintentionally told him to.
"Understood."
And so we stayed.
Even as others joined us later–our eventual friends, I was content so long as you were near. But over time, something changed inside me. My feelings evolved. Grew selfish. Greedy. I wanted to be the only one beside you, the only one who truly understood you.
However, I buried it. Hid it so carefully that even you never noticed–or perhaps you were too focused on your own ambitions to see.
Ironic, isn't it? I concealed everything to avoid seeming pathetic… yet secretly hoped you'd notice something was wrong. That you'd give me your attention again. That you'd see how much I wanted you to feel the same way.
Once again, fear held me back. Rejection loomed larger than confession.
So I waited–hoping you would realize, hoping you would choose for both of us.
— Back to the present —
"Well?" My voice trembled slightly. "Pathetic, right?"
Silence stretched between us.
He must be upset. I've only shifted my burden onto him–
"I'm sorry," Lime said quietly.
"Why are you apologizing?"
"I knew," he admitted. "I sensed you pulling away, acting differently. I told myself it was nothing. I used my own goals as an excuse to ignore it. Even though I knew you were hurting, I left you alone. That was wrong. I'm sorry, Magenta."
"No, you had no obligation–"
"You're wrong. I did, I do. I was the one who asked you to stay. I didn't want you to feel lonely… and then I let you feel it anyway. Forgive me."
Tears I didn't know spheres could shed shimmered at the edge of my light. "No. I hid it on purpose. I wanted you to pity me, to notice me. I'm the worst–"
"It's okay to want attention," he said firmly. "It's okay to be selfish. It's okay to want me to yourself, because I don't mind. I'll gladly give you anything that makes you happy. All you have to do is ask. From now on, my dreams aren't just mine anymore. You made them real. Now let me make yours real."
Your certainty was unshakable–quiet, absolute.
"Really?" My voice came out small. "You mean that?"
"Of course."
"Are you really, really sure? Because if you're not–"
"Yes," you said, matching my old playful emphasis perfectly. "I'm sure."
Relief washed through me like clear light. "Then… what I want is for us to be together. Forever."
"Isn't that already a given?"
"Yes, but… what I want is for us to be more than friends. I want our relationship to evolve
I want us to be lovers."
"Lovers?" he echoed. "As in…derived from love?"
"Exactly. I know you might not fully understand it yet, but–"
"You're right. I don't understand it completely. But I understand enough to know this feels right."
I laughed softly. "Better than nothing, I suppose."
"I notice you're not embarrassed by that cute giggle anymore."
"Well… we're lovers now. It's natural to show you my cute side."
"Does that mean I'll get to see the embarrassed side too?" he teased.
"Let's… put that on hold for now."
Lime startled slightly at the serious reply, then softened. "Take your time. We should tell the others, though. About our new relationship."
"Yes. But no rush. Let's stay like this a little longer, just us."
Unfortunatelt, we didn't get much time alone. Our friends soon drifted over, curious. We told them everything, about how our bond had changed, deepened.
I still don't fully grasp love. Not yet. But I know this, as long as Magenta is happy, then I'm happy. Perhaps that simplicity is the heart of it–finding satisfaction in someone else's light, brighter than your own.
They were opposites from the start. One who craved solitude, one who feared it. Yet in that contrast, they found balance. Harmony.
Together, they would drift on–content, complete, and quietly radiant.