( in the last dream, wearing the blindfold after waking was soothing. this time, his exhaustion remains, his side continues aching, and he feels—far too connected. sunlight and singing. too many messages. every strand of information winds further, creates links upon links, conversations, emphasis that the space beside him is empty.
how very alone he is.
dying pulled him from the last dream; is that his way back home? but he's too tired to move. so he remains connected to the murmur, feels his sense of self dissolve as he pulls himself through it, wanders, wonders: would he be this useless if 'hikaru' were here?
ah, that's strange. he thought of 'hikaru' first. he's threading through this space hands first, hoping to touch something cold, not warm. hoping he's still mixed up. hoping to find something. and if he thinks his name, repeats it like a wish, and keeps searching unto unconsciousness, maybe he can pretend…
they're in his room, 'hikaru' reading master + master on his bed while yoshiki sits on the floor. the memory is a short film on repeat, an unwavering beacon, while yoshiki's presence dissolves into a sigh, simplifying to yearning, searching, right hand first. )
[ If becoming human was like taking a fish out of water, whatever this is like throwing a lobster into a pot of boiling water.
Empty. Lonely. Cold. That's his normal. That's his baseline. It isn't natural for humans to be any of those things — emptiness causes the discomfort of hunger, loneliness the desire to communicate, cold the need for fire. It was easy enough mimicking their behavior as "Hikaru," even if he didn't really understand it.
But this? The Murmur is always there. Thrumming, flowing, vibrating. This isn't like consuming souls: a momentary swell of fullness followed by a satisfying shimmer. This is... well, he can't even describe it, really. There's no corollary he can make a comparison to. It's completely new. Fullness without the satisfaction. Swell without resolve. Minds inside him instead of souls.
Not to mention the very distinct sensations of hunger, thirst, and disorientation, which he recognizes from Hikaru's memories but is experiencing, right now, for the first time in earnest. He hadn't eaten anything at the beach when they talked to Tanaka. Or on the way there... Or earlier that morning, or all of the day before. And his mouth is so dry...
Suffice to say, he's a bit overwhelmed right now. He's trying his hardest to ignore it all, and failing, when he senses the brush of a familiar soul. Soft, warm, beautiful.
He jolts, and without thinking, grabs at it. Tendrils of black and oily iridescence snatch around it, desperately, like grabbing an offered hand. ]
( that desperate hold startles him. he didn't… expect to find anything. (did he?) not anything so unknowable, so recognisable. (but he hoped.) he jolts but holds, confirming that this isn't some comforting memory. it hasn't been that long, not truly, but he missed hearing his name. hearing it in that voice, with that lilt…
it pulls him back into himself. his hand twists, grabs those tendrils before he even realises he's done it. )
'Hikaru'? You, you really... ( the memory cuts, relief taking its place and ebbing into their connection with a private smile. pure, honest.
brief. understanding sinks in. he stammers out different attempts to say—something, struggling to string together thoughts in this unnatural exhaustion. there's a faint sense of wrongness, a trace memory of the Abomination, but what he manages is, )
This ain't... because of the holes? ( overlaying that, louder and more insistent, is yoshiki's own voice, ) You're really here? Yer okay?
( he dislikes the Murmur pouring out what he'd rather keep close and underwhelming but it matters less, right now, than tightening his hold on those tendrils. confirming that this is 'hikaru'. keeping him close if so. )
[ The familiar warmth squeezes back. It really is him. Even though Yoshiki isn't right here in front of him, "Hikaru" can feel the shape of his hand, the smoothness of his palm. The sound of his voice. His calm smile. It doesn't make any sense, except for the fact that it does, somehow.
It brings him relief, too, but the feeling is twinged with the dread that's gripped him since he woke up. ]
N-No, this ain't the holes. Ain't no way. This ain't the Other Side...
[ He's certain of that now. After all, how and why would Yoshiki be here if that were the case? He wonders, worrying, as chunks of his tendrils flatten and squeeze against Yoshiki, clinging protectively. And then he sees it — the silhouette of that horrible thing from the dream. ]
...m'fine.
[ He is so incredibly not fine, but this isn't the time. ]
Are you okay? Where are ya? I'm in... some kinda park. But the signs're all in English... I can't read 'em...
( that means they can leave together, right? if all that information meant people are already working on it–
the tendrils squeeze and those thoughts trail off. this isn't the same as sitting together, where yoshiki can study whatever expression 'hikaru' makes and try piecing together what he isn't saying, yet his answer is so very unconvincing. it would circle back around to being funny if they were anywhere else.
but they're in this terrifying place, so he pats 'hikaru's' cheek. his touch lingers, on cheek and tendrils all, while he considers. )
M'just tired. ( an understatement but not a lie. ) But English, huh? Ya don't need to read any. What's in the park, s'there water?
( something about the water… and there was only one park with it on that map. otherwise, yoshiki doesn't have anything helpful. only broken buildings and roads, the fungus bleeding through them; a sign, sixth—road? showing it would be easier…
it's tricky, consciously sharing the memory of what he last saw, but he offers the view of central park to his left, at the end of the street he's sprawled on. )
[ Once Jayce was also back to his senses, the realization hit— Yoshiki and Hikaru had been out there and through who knows what. The worry had only bled further out after they reunited in the museum. After touching up on ether as a group, getting past the . . . General shock of the new, given Jayce's fully changed body, scales and tail and horns galore. Viktor tended to Yoshiki, kept him company, and Jayce offered to do the same to Hikaru, who was sporting an eye injury and was in need of a clean up and bandaging.
Jayce invites Hikaru to sit with him where the sun shines the brightest; outside, on stairs; he's brought with him the first aid kit and washed his hands, now setting aside exactly what he'll be using, but . . . One look at Hikaru and a pause brings Jayce to shaking his head and sighing. Gods.
His brows pinch, and his scarred lips pull a aggrieved frown as he gently presses his fingers under the boy's chin to lift it to the light and an angle to start wiping at the caked blood around it. A click of his tongue hits his fangs, and he murmurs: ]
[ The last three weeks feel like a blur, but at the same time, 'Hikaru' knows exactly what he did. And perhaps strangest of all to the humans around him, but not really to him, is that he doesn't really feel bad about it. Not even a little conflicted. But he's been human long enough to know he should; he senses the tension in the air, the exhaustion of the others around him, and the subtle disappointment that's been directed in his direction since before One's song ended.
So he's not so much preoccupied with how different Jayce looks as he is with his own bewilderment at how he's supposed to be feeling and acting right now. He blinks at Jayce with his one good eye, the left side too swollen for his other eyelid to move. ]
I wasn't there for you, [ Jayce wipes, gentle, removing the cracks through dried blood and smearing the remains; he's got an awfully feather light hand, despite being a smith. Inventing requires gentle precision, and while he admires Viktor's hands in such tasks even more, he can offer a good amount of something identical. ] to have prevented any of this . . .
[ He breathes through his nose, highly focused within the tunnel of attention the task requires. He'll take nothing less than perfection. ]
[ This sensation is new. He remembers being touched this carefully before, but he's never experienced it for himself. It's the touch of a caring adult — not necessarily a parent, although that's the easiest example — soothing skinned knees and busted elbows.
Hikaru had good memories of his father and mother soothing him like this. To 'Hikaru', it doesn't mean anything, although he understands that the physical touch involved injects an element of vulnerability, trust and reliance. ]
I did it on my own. Wasn't yer fault. I heard One and I followed after 'im.
[ He directs his good eye downward, copying the mannerisms of hesitance and shame. ]
Hey, is... Is Sleep bad, or is she... good? I don't... really get it.
( As pulse-knocks at the great vast door of the collective mind-net go, consider this a modest overture. Tired — but performatively perky. The 5 a.m. special. )
Young master Hikaru. I can only hope you've been... ( 'Well'? ) ...moderately alive.
[ 'Hikaru' knows who it is before he speaks up. It's one of his few tethers aside from 'Hikaru,' and one he's not made any effort to reach out to for a few weeks. ]
Hiya, unc.
[ 'Hikaru's mind is as it usually is, although there's something familiarly warm and metallic about it today. ]
Still kickin'. These hosts just topple over like bowling pins if ya know what to do.
[ Maybe that's a reference to his messed up eye, which still hasn't healed from December, or maybe Seishirou is just being cheeky. The injury is pretty apparent through the Murmur, though. 'Hikaru' had almost gouged it out while under Sleep's influence; if it weren't for Jayce's careful medical attention, it probably would have become infected and rotted out of his head.
'Hikaru' turns his attention to their tether, peering at it like a single massive eye in the sky. ]
What's going on with you then, unc? Had a bad dream and need to talk about it? [ It's not like either of them go out of their way to talk to each other - especially after last time. ]
(the biting cold is, no, was a problem when the dream first folded into unfinished rooms, empty and splitting every which way in endless meiosis. it was a problem when the fluorescent lights' buzzing was loud and startling and new.
now that buzzing is a fuzzy hum, cold frosting the water imitating his limbs and stiffening his summer uniform. miserable circumstances in miserable junctions that make it harder to remain focused as he rounds another corner. the lights' foreboding flickering falls short when, in this awful blessed corridor, )
'Hikaru'?
( in return for the hesitation between stepping forward and stopping to squint, confirm it's not another skin-stealer, the incomplete architecture reconstructs itself. this inter-room corridor stretches into a long hallway. a perfect, bland stretch of age-dimmed lights and dull yellow walls bending into sporadic intersections. some lead elsewhere but most loop back into the hallway. the hallway itself is self-looping, its farthest points in either direction displaying them both like perfect mirrors.
but that's all so much less important. )
The hell've ya been? We- ( as in me and you. we as in-
suddenly, he doesn't know what to say. he felt so sure about it a month ago. the lights continue flickering with his approach. )
Woulda thought that eruption gotcha, ( if not for their Tether, unbroken despite it all. )
[ The cold doesn't bother 'Hikaru'. It never does, not when he gets to really be him, here in Sleep's playground. And yet, a chill goes down his back when a particular voice floats through the chilly air and reaches his ears. And he turns around, and — there he is. Yoshiki. His raison d'etre, his one true friend, his forbidden fruit.
His soul looks as pretty as ever. ]
Yoshiki — ...
[ After spending weeks rehearsing this conversation in his head, he suddenly doesn't know what to say, either.
I'm sorry? Stay away? I missed you?
He swallows and takes a step back as their Tether seems to pull them closer. ]
...it — it almost did...
[ He mumbles distantly, simply responding to what Yoshiki said. His heart swells, his left eye wobbles. ]
It almost did. Are you okay? Is — are Jayce and Viktor okay?
Almost? But that'd mean... ( he was in the blast zone while yoshiki was nowhere near it.
they really… couldn't have been farther apart.
even now, knowing the distance between them was (is) intentional, watching him back away is different. a hit would have been less stunning, would have spared him the panic that doesn't take solely because 'hikaru' is still in front of him. )
You... could come see instead of asking.
( he's really avoiding him. even though they—they're supposed to have something special, right? this place couldn't change that.
so why the hell aren't they beside each other? )
It's not like—nothing'll happen, y'know?
( walking slowly, avoiding that cold splintering up his legs, was so, so important until 'hikaru' backed away. yoshiki moves hastily, makes up for that one step and keeps going. he'll close this distance. he will. )
No one's mad or nothin', y'can just come back. I can meet ya when we wake up and we can, we can just go back together.
[ Yoshiki doesn't stop. He's getting closer, rapidly. 'Hikaru' takes one more step away, but only one. Yoshiki has no idea how difficult it's been for 'Hikaru' to stay away from him. He's supposed to be making sure he isn't alone. That's the whole reason he exists in the first place. But why — ]
We can't just go back, Yoshiki!
[ The outburst seems to come out of nowhere — one second, he's looking at the other boy with anxious adoration, and the next he's getting his teeth and glaring at him. ]
What the hell are ya saying? Yer not mad at me? Are ya for real right now? Is it only bad if I kill other people, but no biggie if I kill you?
[ He can still picture in his mind the way Yoshiki looked at him after he nearly killed Asako. Disgust. Shock. Anger. ]
Would ya stop and think about this for one freakin' second? If Sleep can make me lose it like that, then it ain't safe. It ain't safe for me to be around nobody!
[ 'Hikaru' is laying back on his bed at the Devil's Nest when he feels Yoshiki's familiar presence in the Murmur. He turns towards it and smiles, like enjoying a warm breeze. ]
Ahah... I was wonderin' when ya might ask about that...
[ ... ]
I remember a lot. I dunno if I understand it all, but I remember it. Why d'ya ask?
( not because he's unwilling, though he doesn't really want traces of that in the Murmur. even privately. )
I was wondering how ya felt about it though. You getting to... y'know, that normal life. If maybe ya liked it better than that ol' place. If ya liked it at all.
[ 'Hikaru' mulls it over. He isn't hesitating, he just doesn't know where to start. ]
I don't think I liked it. Lookin' back, it wasn't me. Doesn't feel like me at all, when I think back on it. S'more like how I feel when I think about Hikaru than myself, y'know?
But... it was interesting, too. I was feelin' a lot of things I don't recognize. Stuff Hikaru never felt, so I don't remember anything like it. I was real scared of you, deep down, for example. Somethin' about ya made me feel really weird, even though I still cared about ya a lot.
(I can work with that he'd said as if wounds don't still hurt like hell. like a fool. it would be embarrassing if it hadn't sunk in, on his way here, that he is well and truly desperate- )
Nice room.
( though he hasn't really looked. he wants to, but that would mean getting closer to 'hikaru'. he shouldn't do that. yoshiki searches his sling pack for his knife, closer to the door than he should be for this kind of test. )
Don't really wanna bleed all over it... Do I need a big wound?
[ Yoshiki is on his way. 'Hikaru' waits, half-heartedly flipping through a book, his eyes staring straight through the page as memories of Yoshiki's warm body struggling inside him flash through his mind.
It's fine. It'll be fine. He can't hurt Yoshiki that way anymore. Not while he's like this, forced into a human body for real, with his own flesh and blood and beating heart.
When the door opens, and he hears Yoshiki's voice, he jumps out of his chair and spins around. The pain in his feet doesn't even register. ]
Yoshiki!
[ All smiles. It's so good to see him. Something instantly feels right again, like a key turning perfectly inside a lock.
But he keeps his distance. They had a deal, after all. ]
Nah. Nah, just need enough blood for me to grab it. [ bites his lip and stares. ]
Hey, ( no threat of eat or be eaten could dim the pleasure 'hikaru's' reaction brings (every single time)—but their Tether is a tattletale, ) off yer feet.
( yoshiki smiles anyway, expression dimming when he drops his bag to unwrap his knife. )
Enough to grab... ( which means more than a nick or bite's worth, maybe? nothing is ever easy. he kneels to roll a pant leg up to his knee with the same queasy dread he felt the first few times he stuck his hand into 'hikaru's' chest. then he presses the flat of the knife against his calf. )
You starin' makes it way harder, y'know?
( he cuts easily anyway. a long, neat slice up his calf. blood leaks out. pain sets in. he hisses, pressing the knife tightly against the cut so his leg can't stitch itself back together.
he means to say okay, how's that? but what comes out is a long, plaintive version of, ) Ugh, ow.
[ 'Hikaru' watches the knife eagerly. A thin border of blood collects around the blade as it cuts through the top layer of skin, until it begins to spill over and drip down Yoshiki's leg. There's something mesmerizing about watching that blood leak out... ]
Yeah... perfect. Just a lil more...
[ The blood flows down the curves of his knee and calf. It's pouring down quickly enough that instead of dripping further to Yoshiki's ankle, it dribbles onto his shoe — and a few droplets splash further into the floor.
When those droplets hit the ground, the spell 'Hikaru' placed around the door activates instantly. Lines and circles painted in his own blood go from dry stains to wet, wobbling, colorless light, not unlike what the inside of his true form looks like. A spider web-like net is thrown around Yoshiki's body, anchored by the marks on the ground and doorframe, and it tightens, yanking his arms up. The knife clatters to the floor, flinging an arc of blood drops into the room.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sundowning—daylight
how very alone he is.
dying pulled him from the last dream; is that his way back home? but he's too tired to move. so he remains connected to the murmur, feels his sense of self dissolve as he pulls himself through it, wanders, wonders: would he be this useless if 'hikaru' were here?
ah, that's strange. he thought of 'hikaru' first. he's threading through this space hands first, hoping to touch something cold, not warm. hoping he's still mixed up. hoping to find something. and if he thinks his name, repeats it like a wish, and keeps searching unto unconsciousness, maybe he can pretend…
they're in his room, 'hikaru' reading master + master on his bed while yoshiki sits on the floor. the memory is a short film on repeat, an unwavering beacon, while yoshiki's presence dissolves into a sigh, simplifying to yearning, searching, right hand first. )
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Empty. Lonely. Cold. That's his normal. That's his baseline. It isn't natural for humans to be any of those things — emptiness causes the discomfort of hunger, loneliness the desire to communicate, cold the need for fire. It was easy enough mimicking their behavior as "Hikaru," even if he didn't really understand it.
But this? The Murmur is always there. Thrumming, flowing, vibrating. This isn't like consuming souls: a momentary swell of fullness followed by a satisfying shimmer. This is... well, he can't even describe it, really. There's no corollary he can make a comparison to. It's completely new. Fullness without the satisfaction. Swell without resolve. Minds inside him instead of souls.
Not to mention the very distinct sensations of hunger, thirst, and disorientation, which he recognizes from Hikaru's memories but is experiencing, right now, for the first time in earnest. He hadn't eaten anything at the beach when they talked to Tanaka. Or on the way there... Or earlier that morning, or all of the day before. And his mouth is so dry...
Suffice to say, he's a bit overwhelmed right now. He's trying his hardest to ignore it all, and failing, when he senses the brush of a familiar soul. Soft, warm, beautiful.
He jolts, and without thinking, grabs at it. Tendrils of black and oily iridescence snatch around it, desperately, like grabbing an offered hand. ]
Yoshiki...?
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it pulls him back into himself. his hand twists, grabs those tendrils before he even realises he's done it. )
'Hikaru'? You, you really... ( the memory cuts, relief taking its place and ebbing into their connection with a private smile. pure, honest.
brief. understanding sinks in. he stammers out different attempts to say—something, struggling to string together thoughts in this unnatural exhaustion. there's a faint sense of wrongness, a trace memory of the Abomination, but what he manages is, )
This ain't... because of the holes? ( overlaying that, louder and more insistent, is yoshiki's own voice, ) You're really here? Yer okay?
( he dislikes the Murmur pouring out what he'd rather keep close and underwhelming but it matters less, right now, than tightening his hold on those tendrils. confirming that this is 'hikaru'. keeping him close if so. )
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It brings him relief, too, but the feeling is twinged with the dread that's gripped him since he woke up. ]
N-No, this ain't the holes. Ain't no way. This ain't the Other Side...
[ He's certain of that now. After all, how and why would Yoshiki be here if that were the case? He wonders, worrying, as chunks of his tendrils flatten and squeeze against Yoshiki, clinging protectively. And then he sees it — the silhouette of that horrible thing from the dream. ]
...m'fine.
[ He is so incredibly not fine, but this isn't the time. ]
Are you okay? Where are ya? I'm in... some kinda park. But the signs're all in English... I can't read 'em...
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( that means they can leave together, right? if all that information meant people are already working on it–
the tendrils squeeze and those thoughts trail off. this isn't the same as sitting together, where yoshiki can study whatever expression 'hikaru' makes and try piecing together what he isn't saying, yet his answer is so very unconvincing. it would circle back around to being funny if they were anywhere else.
but they're in this terrifying place, so he pats 'hikaru's' cheek. his touch lingers, on cheek and tendrils all, while he considers. )
M'just tired. ( an understatement but not a lie. ) But English, huh? Ya don't need to read any. What's in the park, s'there water?
( something about the water… and there was only one park with it on that map. otherwise, yoshiki doesn't have anything helpful. only broken buildings and roads, the fungus bleeding through them; a sign, sixth—road? showing it would be easier…
it's tricky, consciously sharing the memory of what he last saw, but he offers the view of central park to his left, at the end of the street he's sprawled on. )
Like this?
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post november event!
Jayce invites Hikaru to sit with him where the sun shines the brightest; outside, on stairs; he's brought with him the first aid kit and washed his hands, now setting aside exactly what he'll be using, but . . . One look at Hikaru and a pause brings Jayce to shaking his head and sighing. Gods.
His brows pinch, and his scarred lips pull a aggrieved frown as he gently presses his fingers under the boy's chin to lift it to the light and an angle to start wiping at the caked blood around it. A click of his tongue hits his fangs, and he murmurs: ]
. . . I'm sorry, Bud.
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So he's not so much preoccupied with how different Jayce looks as he is with his own bewilderment at how he's supposed to be feeling and acting right now. He blinks at Jayce with his one good eye, the left side too swollen for his other eyelid to move. ]
About what? [ pause. ] I don't understand.
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[ He breathes through his nose, highly focused within the tunnel of attention the task requires. He'll take nothing less than perfection. ]
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Hikaru had good memories of his father and mother soothing him like this. To 'Hikaru', it doesn't mean anything, although he understands that the physical touch involved injects an element of vulnerability, trust and reliance. ]
I did it on my own. Wasn't yer fault. I heard One and I followed after 'im.
[ He directs his good eye downward, copying the mannerisms of hesitance and shame. ]
Hey, is... Is Sleep bad, or is she... good? I don't... really get it.
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january | week 4
Young master Hikaru. I can only hope you've been... ( 'Well'? ) ...moderately alive.
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Hiya, unc.
[ 'Hikaru's mind is as it usually is, although there's something familiarly warm and metallic about it today. ]
Still kickin'. These hosts just topple over like bowling pins if ya know what to do.
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I do. But a young man shouldn't. ( Sympathy, or correction. ) You should take care of your health.
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[ Maybe that's a reference to his messed up eye, which still hasn't healed from December, or maybe Seishirou is just being cheeky. The injury is pretty apparent through the Murmur, though. 'Hikaru' had almost gouged it out while under Sleep's influence; if it weren't for Jayce's careful medical attention, it probably would have become infected and rotted out of his head.
'Hikaru' turns his attention to their tether, peering at it like a single massive eye in the sky. ]
What's going on with you then, unc? Had a bad dream and need to talk about it? [ It's not like either of them go out of their way to talk to each other - especially after last time. ]
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1/2
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june / sugar (say that you will)
now that buzzing is a fuzzy hum, cold frosting the water imitating his limbs and stiffening his summer uniform. miserable circumstances in miserable junctions that make it harder to remain focused as he rounds another corner. the lights' foreboding flickering falls short when, in this awful blessed corridor, )
'Hikaru'?
( in return for the hesitation between stepping forward and stopping to squint, confirm it's not another skin-stealer, the incomplete architecture reconstructs itself. this inter-room corridor stretches into a long hallway. a perfect, bland stretch of age-dimmed lights and dull yellow walls bending into sporadic intersections. some lead elsewhere but most loop back into the hallway. the hallway itself is self-looping, its farthest points in either direction displaying them both like perfect mirrors.
but that's all so much less important. )
The hell've ya been? We- ( as in me and you. we as in-
suddenly, he doesn't know what to say. he felt so sure about it a month ago. the lights continue flickering with his approach. )
Woulda thought that eruption gotcha, ( if not for their Tether, unbroken despite it all. )
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His soul looks as pretty as ever. ]
Yoshiki — ...
[ After spending weeks rehearsing this conversation in his head, he suddenly doesn't know what to say, either.
I'm sorry? Stay away? I missed you?
He swallows and takes a step back as their Tether seems to pull them closer. ]
...it — it almost did...
[ He mumbles distantly, simply responding to what Yoshiki said. His heart swells, his left eye wobbles. ]
It almost did. Are you okay? Is — are Jayce and Viktor okay?
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they really… couldn't have been farther apart.
even now, knowing the distance between them was (is) intentional, watching him back away is different. a hit would have been less stunning, would have spared him the panic that doesn't take solely because 'hikaru' is still in front of him. )
You... could come see instead of asking.
( he's really avoiding him. even though they—they're supposed to have something special, right? this place couldn't change that.
so why the hell aren't they beside each other? )
It's not like—nothing'll happen, y'know?
( walking slowly, avoiding that cold splintering up his legs, was so, so important until 'hikaru' backed away. yoshiki moves hastily, makes up for that one step and keeps going. he'll close this distance. he will. )
No one's mad or nothin', y'can just come back. I can meet ya when we wake up and we can, we can just go back together.
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We can't just go back, Yoshiki!
[ The outburst seems to come out of nowhere — one second, he's looking at the other boy with anxious adoration, and the next he's getting his teeth and glaring at him. ]
What the hell are ya saying? Yer not mad at me? Are ya for real right now? Is it only bad if I kill other people, but no biggie if I kill you?
[ He can still picture in his mind the way Yoshiki looked at him after he nearly killed Asako. Disgust. Shock. Anger. ]
Would ya stop and think about this for one freakin' second? If Sleep can make me lose it like that, then it ain't safe. It ain't safe for me to be around nobody!
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murmur (post july event)
this time, instead of risking it, )
Hey, how much do you remember about—about, you know. Our, uh, other lives?
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Ahah... I was wonderin' when ya might ask about that...
[ ... ]
I remember a lot. I dunno if I understand it all, but I remember it. Why d'ya ask?
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( not because he's unwilling, though he doesn't really want traces of that in the Murmur. even privately. )
I was wondering how ya felt about it though. You getting to... y'know, that normal life. If maybe ya liked it better than that ol' place. If ya liked it at all.
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[ 'Hikaru' mulls it over. He isn't hesitating, he just doesn't know where to start. ]
I don't think I liked it. Lookin' back, it wasn't me. Doesn't feel like me at all, when I think back on it. S'more like how I feel when I think about Hikaru than myself, y'know?
But... it was interesting, too. I was feelin' a lot of things I don't recognize. Stuff Hikaru never felt, so I don't remember anything like it. I was real scared of you, deep down, for example. Somethin' about ya made me feel really weird, even though I still cared about ya a lot.
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august / blood sport
Nice room.
( though he hasn't really looked. he wants to, but that would mean getting closer to 'hikaru'. he shouldn't do that. yoshiki searches his sling pack for his knife, closer to the door than he should be for this kind of test. )
Don't really wanna bleed all over it... Do I need a big wound?
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It's fine. It'll be fine. He can't hurt Yoshiki that way anymore. Not while he's like this, forced into a human body for real, with his own flesh and blood and beating heart.
When the door opens, and he hears Yoshiki's voice, he jumps out of his chair and spins around. The pain in his feet doesn't even register. ]
Yoshiki!
[ All smiles. It's so good to see him. Something instantly feels right again, like a key turning perfectly inside a lock.
But he keeps his distance. They had a deal, after all. ]
Nah. Nah, just need enough blood for me to grab it. [ bites his lip and stares. ]
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( yoshiki smiles anyway, expression dimming when he drops his bag to unwrap his knife. )
Enough to grab... ( which means more than a nick or bite's worth, maybe? nothing is ever easy. he kneels to roll a pant leg up to his knee with the same queasy dread he felt the first few times he stuck his hand into 'hikaru's' chest. then he presses the flat of the knife against his calf. )
You starin' makes it way harder, y'know?
( he cuts easily anyway. a long, neat slice up his calf. blood leaks out. pain sets in. he hisses, pressing the knife tightly against the cut so his leg can't stitch itself back together.
he means to say okay, how's that? but what comes out is a long, plaintive version of, ) Ugh, ow.
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Yeah... perfect. Just a lil more...
[ The blood flows down the curves of his knee and calf. It's pouring down quickly enough that instead of dripping further to Yoshiki's ankle, it dribbles onto his shoe — and a few droplets splash further into the floor.
When those droplets hit the ground, the spell 'Hikaru' placed around the door activates instantly. Lines and circles painted in his own blood go from dry stains to wet, wobbling, colorless light, not unlike what the inside of his true form looks like. A spider web-like net is thrown around Yoshiki's body, anchored by the marks on the ground and doorframe, and it tightens, yanking his arms up. The knife clatters to the floor, flinging an arc of blood drops into the room.
He's trapped. 'Hikaru' grins at him. ]
Gotcha.
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