[STOP he is going to not break any bones, and also sit down like he's told, gosh. At least Yasusada doesn't seem to mind the closeness, though (as if he ever would)--he pulls Kashuu against his chest as soon as they're on the floor, probably tucked against a wall somewhere out of sight from everyone else.
He tilts his head slightly, letting Kashuu do as he pleases--mostly because he thinks it's better let him have something to fuss over. Something to concentrate on, no matter how inconsequential Yasusada himself finds it.
When Kashuu finally does speak, his grip tightens, if that's even possible.]
Don't say that. [Even though he gets it.] I'm just glad you're back.
[he collapses to the floor and breaks every bone in his body because i rolled another 1--
No okay, they can just be gay in the corner on the floor, it's fine. Kashuu prefers being sequestered away from the general public when he's like this, anyway. He hates the eyes on him, unless he's in a perfect and pristine state - which is far from the case right now. He's trying to ground himself, and at the very least, every second he spends in Yasusada's presence gives him something more sturdy to hold onto.
It's fine. He'll get through this, like anything and everything else.]
...Yeah. I am, too. [What a shitty, awful dream.] I know I probably made you worried, too, so...
[There's not a second "sorry", but he still looks like he'd deliver one.]
[STOP DESTROYING MY PEANUT ONLY I GET TO DIE THIS GAME. - yams, probably.
And while they've never talked about it, per se, Yasusada knows Kashuu well enough to know how he'd feel about being seen right now. It doesn't matter that he doesn't think Kashuu needs to hide--all that matters is that this is something Kashuu needs right now, and it's something Yasusada can give him.
He can't deny that he was worried, and pretending otherwise doesn't even cross his mind. Instead, he just rests his head against Kashuu's.]
It wasn't real, but that was part of the problem, wasn't it? It wasn't real, and then it wasn't real, and then it wasn't real again.]
...It's hard to tell what is.
[He woke up, and he woke up. He woke up, and he woke up again. What happens if he wakes up from this, too? Is this the end of the dream, at last? Or is this the start? He doesn't meet Yasusada's eyes, but he stays as close as he can, absorbing the constant, precious reminder of his presence.]
But he understands. Or rather--he thinks he does, as much as he can without knowing exactly what Kashuu saw. But he remembers the real sound of Nagasone's pieces hitting the stage floor, the very real press of Kashuu's blade against his skin. Even now, two weeks later, Yasusada worries he'll wake up to find that that was the truth, after all.
He doesn't need to say any of that, though. Instead--]
Just this. [That's probably not helpful, is it? Hm. How about...] Yesterday, Steel-san asked us to go to the museum. They wanted us to do things to honor people from home. We were drinking and dancing with everyone. I slept later than you did, this morning.
[He can keep backtracking, if Kashuu wants. He'll sit and recount every moment of their lives, if it'll help him grasp what has and hasn't happened.]
[He can get what Yasusada's trying to do for him immediately, but... something about it makes him feel even lonelier, somehow. How terrible. Buzen's death isn't that far away from them, and while the grief of it didn't crush him, it's still enough bad things in a row to just tank his mood.
He wants to go back to the day before, and enjoy drinking and dancing again. He wants to wake up this morning and prepare himself better for what would happen next, even if that's a silly impossibility. Instead of saying any of that, though, he hides his face away again, into Yasusada's neck. And perhaps surprisingly, he speaks without having his words dragged out of him for once.]
I'm glad. I don't want this to be the dream. ...The other ones - it's fine if they were. You weren't there anymore. Neither was Itsuki, or Aymeric, or Roxana. Neither was our home.
[It is surprising. Yasusada hadn't even entertained the idea that Kashuu would want to speak about what he'd seen, and the way he stills, if only briefly, is a testament to his surprise.
The shock fades quickly, though. Replaced right away with sympathetic heartbreak, though Kashuu can't see his face like this.
It's probably for the best that he can't, anyway. Because he knows exactly what Kashuu is describing. It's the same sort of crushing loneliness he'd felt, for three hundred years.
Yasusada, though, had time to adjust. He lost them all one by one, and none of them so abruptly, besides Kashuu himself.
He's acutely aware, in this moment, of what usually happens the night of these horrible expeditions. More likely than not, they're going to lose at least one more person tonight. His hold on Kashuu tightens at the thought of it, just for a minute.]
[There's something different about it, this time. Maybe it's Buzen's loss and the things he didn't say, and the weight of failure that bears down on him along with the compound fractures of his dream-in-a-dream-in-a-dream.
Or maybe it's because this isn't a bad thing that happened to him without any say of his own in it, for once. Maybe it's because, to him, in a way, he had chosen what happened - and that makes it just a little bit more bearable. ...When it comes to talking about it, anyway. Holding the weight is certainly not easy.
Yasusada says I won't leave, and part of him knows it's an impossible thing to promise, because no one ever really gets to decide when they'll leave.]
...I know. You wouldn't leave if you had the choice.
[Maybe Kashuu did something horrible when he took that choice away from a Yasusada who never even existed, but. He doesn't regret it. He never would.]
[Even now, after everything he's seen and all the missions he's completed, there's a part of him that wants to remain stubborn and willfully naive. To pretend like he has any power, any choice at all, despite all the evidence to the contrary--especially here, in a place that doesn't even allow them to fight at each other's sides. If he shuts his eyes long enough, can't he pretend he doesn't see how powerless they really are? If he clings tightly enough, then can't he defy any force that might try to pry them apart?
They're old, bad habits, and he knows better than to slip into them. But a sword can't cut away the pain of a heart, and it's so terribly frustrating, knowing he couldn't prevent this--knowing that, now that it's happened, all he can do is hold Kashuu through the aftermath.]
...I'm here. [Again, softly, because he doesn't know what else to say.] We're both here now.
Kashuu still doesn't regret it, though. Even now, after everything, he would choose to keep this heart that allows him to understand Yasusada on a human level. It's just - hard. It's hard to hear that and to know that "I'm here now" is the best that they can manage in this place that's already stolen Buzen away. If one sword could break, why not two? What's stopping the people who lose their proper colors?
He also doesn't know what to say, so he just holds tight, silent for a few long moments.
But eventually, he just says one simple, quiet thing.]
[Sometimes you exist for hundreds and hundreds of years and it's not until your soul is given flesh and bone that you realize you're actually very much filled with pain and loneliness.
He wants to say of course, or I would never leave you behind. He wonders, for one brief, wild moment, if it would truly be so bad to run--to find somewhere safe, to hide away in some resident's archway, until all of this has stopped.
It's not a serious thought; they could never truly turn their backs on everyone like that. But the part of him that puts those he loves most above all else, that tucked a tiny bottle of medicine away into his clothing, taunts him with the impossibility nonetheless.
He unwinds one arm from Kashuu, searching for his hand. When he finds it, he links their pinkies together, squeezing.]
[pixi and i have now signed a contract to doubledie :amen:
Kashuu will squeeze right back, though, as if that alone will be enough to put a binding weight to this promise that means it won't ever shatter. He doesn't know if he could fully forgive Yasusada if it did, even if it wasn't his fault. Even though he was the one who left Yasusada behind first.]
It eases his heart to hear it, though, just a little. Even if it's impossible to enforce... at least it's a sentiment that's been spoken aloud, a promise between them that they never made the first time around. It doesn't make their situation any easier to handle, but it's something to keep close--a balm on the wounds this place has caused, no matter how temporary its effectiveness.]
Good.
[There are a million other things he wants to say, questions he wants to ask, promises he wants to make. But more than any of that, he wants to stay right here, just like this, as if he could shield Kashuu from any further harm so long as they don't move from this spot.
He can't, of course. And Kashuu needs to get healed anyway. But they can pretend for a little longer.]
Just rest, okay? I'll tell you when they're ready.
It does feel a little better now, at least. Even if it's not perfect - nothing could be in this situation - it's something to hold onto. And anything to hold is better than nothing at all. Anything is better than that emptiness he'd felt from before.
He lets his hand slip away from Yasusada's after that, but curls himself back into his side soon after, slipping his arms around him.]
'Kay. Lemme know.
[Until then, he's just going to sit here and keep himself grounded in the arms of his mirror.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
He tilts his head slightly, letting Kashuu do as he pleases--mostly because he thinks it's better let him have something to fuss over. Something to concentrate on, no matter how inconsequential Yasusada himself finds it.
When Kashuu finally does speak, his grip tightens, if that's even possible.]
Don't say that. [Even though he gets it.] I'm just glad you're back.
no subject
No okay, they can just be gay in the corner on the floor, it's fine. Kashuu prefers being sequestered away from the general public when he's like this, anyway. He hates the eyes on him, unless he's in a perfect and pristine state - which is far from the case right now. He's trying to ground himself, and at the very least, every second he spends in Yasusada's presence gives him something more sturdy to hold onto.
It's fine. He'll get through this, like anything and everything else.]
...Yeah. I am, too. [What a shitty, awful dream.] I know I probably made you worried, too, so...
[There's not a second "sorry", but he still looks like he'd deliver one.]
no subject
And while they've never talked about it, per se, Yasusada knows Kashuu well enough to know how he'd feel about being seen right now. It doesn't matter that he doesn't think Kashuu needs to hide--all that matters is that this is something Kashuu needs right now, and it's something Yasusada can give him.
He can't deny that he was worried, and pretending otherwise doesn't even cross his mind. Instead, he just rests his head against Kashuu's.]
It wasn't real. Whatever you saw--it wasn't real.
no subject
It wasn't real, but that was part of the problem, wasn't it? It wasn't real, and then it wasn't real, and then it wasn't real again.]
...It's hard to tell what is.
[He woke up, and he woke up. He woke up, and he woke up again. What happens if he wakes up from this, too? Is this the end of the dream, at last? Or is this the start? He doesn't meet Yasusada's eyes, but he stays as close as he can, absorbing the constant, precious reminder of his presence.]
no subject
But he understands. Or rather--he thinks he does, as much as he can without knowing exactly what Kashuu saw. But he remembers the real sound of Nagasone's pieces hitting the stage floor, the very real press of Kashuu's blade against his skin. Even now, two weeks later, Yasusada worries he'll wake up to find that that was the truth, after all.
He doesn't need to say any of that, though. Instead--]
Just this. [That's probably not helpful, is it? Hm. How about...] Yesterday, Steel-san asked us to go to the museum. They wanted us to do things to honor people from home. We were drinking and dancing with everyone. I slept later than you did, this morning.
[He can keep backtracking, if Kashuu wants. He'll sit and recount every moment of their lives, if it'll help him grasp what has and hasn't happened.]
no subject
He wants to go back to the day before, and enjoy drinking and dancing again. He wants to wake up this morning and prepare himself better for what would happen next, even if that's a silly impossibility. Instead of saying any of that, though, he hides his face away again, into Yasusada's neck. And perhaps surprisingly, he speaks without having his words dragged out of him for once.]
I'm glad. I don't want this to be the dream. ...The other ones - it's fine if they were. You weren't there anymore. Neither was Itsuki, or Aymeric, or Roxana. Neither was our home.
[And then, nobody was, and he'd woken up again.]
no subject
The shock fades quickly, though. Replaced right away with sympathetic heartbreak, though Kashuu can't see his face like this.
It's probably for the best that he can't, anyway. Because he knows exactly what Kashuu is describing. It's the same sort of crushing loneliness he'd felt, for three hundred years.
Yasusada, though, had time to adjust. He lost them all one by one, and none of them so abruptly, besides Kashuu himself.
He's acutely aware, in this moment, of what usually happens the night of these horrible expeditions. More likely than not, they're going to lose at least one more person tonight. His hold on Kashuu tightens at the thought of it, just for a minute.]
They're here. I'm right here. I won't leave.
no subject
Or maybe it's because this isn't a bad thing that happened to him without any say of his own in it, for once. Maybe it's because, to him, in a way, he had chosen what happened - and that makes it just a little bit more bearable. ...When it comes to talking about it, anyway. Holding the weight is certainly not easy.
Yasusada says I won't leave, and part of him knows it's an impossible thing to promise, because no one ever really gets to decide when they'll leave.]
...I know. You wouldn't leave if you had the choice.
[Maybe Kashuu did something horrible when he took that choice away from a Yasusada who never even existed, but. He doesn't regret it. He never would.]
no subject
They're old, bad habits, and he knows better than to slip into them. But a sword can't cut away the pain of a heart, and it's so terribly frustrating, knowing he couldn't prevent this--knowing that, now that it's happened, all he can do is hold Kashuu through the aftermath.]
...I'm here. [Again, softly, because he doesn't know what else to say.] We're both here now.
no subject
Kashuu still doesn't regret it, though. Even now, after everything, he would choose to keep this heart that allows him to understand Yasusada on a human level. It's just - hard. It's hard to hear that and to know that "I'm here now" is the best that they can manage in this place that's already stolen Buzen away. If one sword could break, why not two? What's stopping the people who lose their proper colors?
He also doesn't know what to say, so he just holds tight, silent for a few long moments.
But eventually, he just says one simple, quiet thing.]
...If you go, don't leave without me.
no subject
He wants to say of course, or I would never leave you behind. He wonders, for one brief, wild moment, if it would truly be so bad to run--to find somewhere safe, to hide away in some resident's archway, until all of this has stopped.
It's not a serious thought; they could never truly turn their backs on everyone like that. But the part of him that puts those he loves most above all else, that tucked a tiny bottle of medicine away into his clothing, taunts him with the impossibility nonetheless.
He unwinds one arm from Kashuu, searching for his hand. When he finds it, he links their pinkies together, squeezing.]
I won't.
no subject
Kashuu will squeeze right back, though, as if that alone will be enough to put a binding weight to this promise that means it won't ever shatter. He doesn't know if he could fully forgive Yasusada if it did, even if it wasn't his fault. Even though he was the one who left Yasusada behind first.]
...Good.
[He's always been pretty selfish, though.]
I won't, either.
no subject
It eases his heart to hear it, though, just a little. Even if it's impossible to enforce... at least it's a sentiment that's been spoken aloud, a promise between them that they never made the first time around. It doesn't make their situation any easier to handle, but it's something to keep close--a balm on the wounds this place has caused, no matter how temporary its effectiveness.]
Good.
[There are a million other things he wants to say, questions he wants to ask, promises he wants to make. But more than any of that, he wants to stay right here, just like this, as if he could shield Kashuu from any further harm so long as they don't move from this spot.
He can't, of course. And Kashuu needs to get healed anyway. But they can pretend for a little longer.]
Just rest, okay? I'll tell you when they're ready.
no subject
It does feel a little better now, at least. Even if it's not perfect - nothing could be in this situation - it's something to hold onto. And anything to hold is better than nothing at all. Anything is better than that emptiness he'd felt from before.
He lets his hand slip away from Yasusada's after that, but curls himself back into his side soon after, slipping his arms around him.]
'Kay. Lemme know.
[Until then, he's just going to sit here and keep himself grounded in the arms of his mirror.]