The voices of a few children in her clinic in addition to a little girl’s talking to someone drifted in through the half-opened privacy curtains; that was nothing new, as Natasha had been listening to the little girl sing a lullaby to JunJun that she had given her as she sat just outside of the half-opened privacy curtains next to the clinical doctor’s ministrations — or, at least, now her time to study her notes — for the past half an hour. In between lullabies, the little girl would have a rather engaging conversation with JunJun about all and sundry, and resume singing once more, alternating between the two.

It came as a massive relief though, when a familiar, smoother voice joined in the conversation. Her heart in her mouth, Natasha stiffened in her wooden seat and peered out of the half-opened privacy curtains, instantly recognising the voice as yours — you were sat cross-legged opposite the young girl, possibly joining in the tea party — your hood over your head. And you were smiling. Oh, after over a week of sadness, torment and worry from witnessing Cocolia’s death, you were smiling.

Natasha felt her lips curl too, remembering how much you loved children and thanking whatever Aeon was listening that the love had not been destroyed in the way you witnessed a death, when the memories of who you were in the Stellaron Hunters and the memories of you in the Astral Express merged together. Nosy, and almost desperate to eavesdrop, Natasha opened the curtains just a tiny margin.

“JunJun likes to ride horses and swim in the cold water,” the little girl declared. Natasha heard a chuckle from you. Swimming? Oh, that's cool, you said, and then picked up JunJun, What else does JunJun like?

“JunJun likes baking and trying on dresses. They’re open like that.” the little girl happily explained, and you laughed. “Is that weird?” she asked worriedly, and you shook your head.

Nope, you said, handing JunJun back to her, not at all, JunJun would bake good food and look pretty in any type of dress.

“Okay!” the little girl said brightly, which then turned to nonchalance as she said with the tact only a small child could offer, “you’re nice, stranger.”

Oh? Why’d you say that? you asked, but there was a humour in your voice that meant her calling you a stranger was not taken personally.

The little girl shrugged, and rearranged the positioning of you and JunJun. Apparently JunJun preferred being opposite you, and liked to sit at her right. “You’re polite, and you don’t judge me. You’re like Hook. I have to go to bed now. Thank you for playing with me!”

Hey, I liked playing with you too, you said, smiling as you shifted to kneel on one knee, and can I tell you something special?

Natasha watched the little girl nod affirmatively. You gently tapped her nose, and said, Hard work needs—

“hard rest…” Natasha murmured to herself as she smiled and looked away, letting the words flow as easily as it was to breathe.

It was her phrase, something she would tell the children in her clinic back in Rivet Town before she moved to the current located orphanage now in Boulder Town — Natasha hoped if the children had the confidence and drive to change the Underworld, then surely they would need adequate amount of rest lest they end up joining a troublesome gang and inheriting a vastly diminished life expectancy. Hearing that phrase...brought it all back. Helped everything fall into place, and removed all doubt.

“You’re quite good with her…I don’t think I’ve ever seen her this relaxed around someone she just met,” Natasha commented quietly enough for you to hear. You whirled your head around and looked at her for a moment longer before closing the front door behind the little girl, and then pulled off your hood. “It’s like you know exactly how to speak to her, how to make her feel safe. That’s not something everyone can do, you know. There’s an ease in your presence — an openness that draws her in. I think that’s why you’d make an amazing parent. It’s not about being perfect, but about being present. Kids need that.”