Page 99 of Gunslinger Girl
“A few months later,” Max continued, “when things had calmed down, I left for good. It wasn’t easy, but I did it, keeping my head down and away from the obvious paths. For months I had no idea where I was going or what I was doing. I just kept moving. Finally, with the last of my money, I bought a ticket on the Trans-Rail and rode it to the very end. After that…”
“Cessation,” Pity finished.
“Yes,” he said. “The end of the world.”
“I’m sorry.” Pity’s voice chased away the grim silence that had descended. Sonya. Finn. Their roads to Cessation both bore grave markers. “But none of that explains why you want to go back. I’d think you’d want to keep as many miles between them and you as possible.”
Max turned onto his side so their faces were only inches apart. “Because Sonya wanted to change things, make them better for everyone. I decided I’d do it for her. I thought sooner or later my parents would find me, no matter where I hid. And when time passed and they didn’t, I decided I’d return one day and use their influence to do everything she—we—had dreamed of.” He took a strand of Pity’s hair between his fingers. Stared at it. “There were times I tried to leave. I always lost my nerve. A little longer, I reasoned. What did it matter? Then, when Santino and Olivia went after Beeks, I volunteered to go along as a helping hand, figuring I’d have them drop me at the Trans-Rail. Save the pain of good-byes, y’know? But then we caught Beeks, and I still hadn’t done it. And then… after that…”
“You found me,” she said.
“Yes.”
And you decided I needed you more than you needed to go home. She sat up. “So I was just a reprieve, an excuse for you to stick around Cessation a little longer.”
“What?” he said. “No!”
Pity twisted toward him. “Really? Because it sounds like you were looking for any excuse you could find to avoid going back.”
“You needed help!” Max protested, looking at her like she was some strange animal he had never seen before.
“I did. Then.” Heat rose in her face. “But that was months ago and you’re still here. What made you decide you had to leave now?”
“Isn’t that obvious?”
“No, it’s not.”
“You and Sheridan!” His eyes smoldered. “I couldn’t stand the thought of you and him, especially with you mooning over how much he cared about fixing CONA and helping the dissidents and…” He stopped. “And because no matter what I do I can’t keep my mind off you. It wasn’t so bad with Garland, but now…”
Pity flushed. Of course he knew about Garland—how couldn’t he? Her voice rose with anger and embarrassment. “Then why have you been keeping away all this time? Acting like I’m hardly anything to you?”
With a noise of exasperation, Max jumped to his feet and strode away. “Haven’t you been paying attention? When I go back east do you think I can take anyone with me? My parents already murdered one person I cared about. Do you believe they’d think twice about another? Dammit, Pity, the closer you are to me, the more danger you’re in!” He stood resolute in the center of the room, fists knotted at his sides.
Well, that’s not fair, she thought. It was hard to stay angry with him when the light and shadows fought their own battle on his naked body. The dark was winning on his lean shoulders but giving way at the angles of his hips. She rose to meet him on the same ground, letting the blankets fall away as she crossed her arms over her chest. “If you haven’t noticed, I can take care of myself.”
His gaze flickered over her.
“And no matter what you say, you don’t really seem to be in a hurry to leave.” She padded over to him.
“I have to go back,” he said. “Sonya…”
“Is dead. Like Finn. But the difference is that I know Finn would want me to be where I’m happy, not where I thought I had to be, out of some stitched-together obligation. And Sheridan wants to be in Columbia. Why not swallow your pride and do what you can to help him from here? You know this world as well as anyone.”
“It’s not enough.”
“What would be enough? Tell me.” She squared her shoulders. “Actually, look me in the eye and tell me that leaving Cessation—leaving me and Casimir and everyone else—is really, truly what you want. Not what you think you should do but what you want to do.”
He stared at her. His lips trembled and parted, as if he was about to speak, and then they closed, as did his eyes.
She wrapped her arms around his neck. A moment later, his hands found her waist.
“Tell the truth,” she said. “If you could ask Sonya what she would want for you, what do you think she’d say?”
“I think…” She could hear the struggle in his voice: affection and longing fighting the years of calcified guilt. “I think she’d tell me to stay right here, with you.” He buried his face in her neck. “I don’t want to go back there.”
She tightened her arms around him. “I know,” she said. “I know.”
He kissed her again. Softly at first, and then with a growing hunger. The chill that had begun to settle on Pity’s skin disappeared. They tumbled back into bed, burying themselves in the blankets and trading kisses back and forth until Max stopped suddenly.
