[the hood comes back, and - it is. it is kashuu, but the eyes are wrong. they're red, bright red. it's the only bit of color he possesses. and he looks frightened.
he doesn't know what's happening.
his hands come up and grasp yasusada, holding either side of his face, clutching, digging his nails in and dragging them down his cheeks, leaving bright red marks. he can't speak.]
[Nothing changes because yams doesn't notice a difference--no I'm kidding.
The color is off-putting--that eerie glow far, far too reminiscent of their enemies, enough so that it sends a shiver through him. But that look of fear on his face strikes Yasusada's heart deeper than anything else could; it reminds him of blood and stars and a shaky, broken Yasusada? when he'd asked, What would you do if I broke?
Kashuu's(?) nails drag down his face, and it hurts--but with the hood back, Yasusada is free to try and grab them, to hold them tightly in his own.]
What is it? Kiyomitsu, I don't know, tell me--
[Why is he afraid? What are they fighting? What does he need to do?]
he tries to grab them, and he does. he can hold on. he can hold on just long enough for kashuu to violently shudder, and try to wrestle his hands away, try to get away, like an animal caught in a trap. he pulls hard enough that if yasusada doesn't let go in time, he yanks his arm out of its socket - but he can't speak. his mouth is closed. glued that way.]
[One of Yasusada's greatest flaws is, perhaps, that he often struggles with knowing when to stop. He loves too much, too fiercely--he remembers too clearly. He holds on too hard, too long.
But then Kashuu's hurting himself to get away, and it's startling enough that he lets go.
He scrambles back to his knees, reaching out again--this time for Kashuu's face.]
Kiyomitsu--! Who-- what happened--?
[Questions that can't be answered, because he doesn't know what else to do.]
Let's go, we can--Aruji can fix it, it'll be okay--
[kashuu hits the floor, pulled back by the force of it.
and when yasusada comes closer, reaches out, he flinches. sucks in a sharp breath through his nose. when he's touched, he freezes. stares... for a long moment, just watching.
around them, the air starts to vibrate, rip and tear. will it be okay? maybe it will.
or maybe it won't. has yasusada ever felt the sensation of water in his lungs before? because he chokes on it, on liquid that fills his throat. he's drowning, literally, as kashuu grabs his wrists with hands that glow blue.]
[Yasusada is not Horikawa, so no, he's never drowned before.
He is, however, intimately familiar with fluid in other people's lungs. He knows what it's like to watch someone choke, and cough, and struggle in vain for air as their body fights against them. It's a brand new sensation, but it's so, so familiar.
(How is he supposed to know this is water, after all? He's a sword--of course his first assumption is blood.)
He wasn't going to fight back anyway, but he certainly can't do it now--not when he's curling into himself, choking and gasping. Kashuu's free to grab his wrists as he pleases; it's hard to focus on him right now, so absorbed is Yasusada in the pressure within his chest.
Is this what Okita felt, every time he'd collapsed?
kashuu skitters away, when yasusada curls in on himself. he nearly breaks his ankle trying to do it, falling, hitting the ground and then pulling himself back up. he doesn't have anything to fight with. he should. where is he? fighting with himself is an extension of his body, and he feels empty without it.
but he can see yasusada, and he watches, from the table, as yasusada starts to drown. he doesn't - want this. he doesn't want this. so he stops the water from bubbling up in yasusada's lungs, and lets him breathe. he stops it, and looks down at his hands.
a sword materializes there. clutched in his fingers.]
[He's drowning, and then he isn't--all at once, he's sucking air into his lungs, and it isn't blocked by water or blood or anything else. He chokes on his own gasp, coughing, but breathing, and eventually he's able to sit back on his heels.
So many sensations. You think he'd be used to this by now, but will they ever truly adjust to these bodies? To these hearts?]
Kiyo... mitsu... [His throat aches, and his voice is small.
Kashuu--is that his vessel? That's a good thing, isn't it? He succeeded in summoning it, finally. They don't need words, if they have their blades. It'll be okay.
He sags with relief, a little. Holds out his hand again.
they can leave together, yes. that's the only thing that makes sense. kashuu slowly unsheathes the blade, and staggers forward. one step, two steps. and then chokes. tears start to pour down his face, but - it's color. neon, and varied, streaking down his face and staining his coat.
he makes his way to yasusada, and twirls his blade in his hand.
[As soon as Kashuu moves towards him, Yasusada knows something is wrong.
It's not that Kashuu's drawn his blade. It's not that his steps are unsteady--it's not even the vibrant colors streaming down his cheeks, as unnatural as they are to perceive.
Yasusada couldn't pinpoint what, exactly, is wrong, even if he'd been of the mind to try. All he knows is that every instinct forged into him is screaming danger. Corruption.Run.
Run?
No. He could never do that to Kashuu.
He knows all too well what it feels like to be the one left behind.]
Kiyomitsu...?
[Kashuu's approaching him, and Yasusada's torn between the urge to run in two completely different directions. He wants to launch himself forward, to wrap his arms around Kashuu and pull them both out of this horrible place. He wants to scramble backwards, away--to sink into his natural state and find some way, any way, to cross blades with his partner. To speak to him in the truest sense. And it's the indecision, in the end, that keeps him frozen, just a little too long.
He shifts. He's still reaching. He opens his mouth.
And Kashuu's always been faster than he is.
And it hurts, he's sure; some part of him must know that. He'll realize it, perhaps, in the moments before it all goes dark. But first--first, he sees Kashuu turn his blade on himself, and... well.
I'd said it earlier, didn't I? In the end, his world is always, always his family.
He'd scream, but--well. That's not really an option anymore, now is it?]
[kashuu drops. gasps, horribly, agonized, as multicolored, neon blood leaks from his wound. he hits the floor, and yasusada hears the sound of a blade spiderwebbing cracks through the steel.
whispers gather around the edges of the two of them, indecipherable but for a few. familiar voices. yasusada's comrades. his family? but he can't make out what they're saying. they're leaving. leaving him. he's broken, and they're gone. and there was something you were supposed to remember, but even now, you can't reach it. maybe it's safer behind closed doors, anyway. this is nicer. this is better. the people he loves, just once more.
the sword in kashuu's gut cracks, and shatters entirely. the force of it sends shrapnel at yasusada - embeds in his skin. kashuu shrieks, closed mouthed and writhing, and then goes limp entirely. his body vanishes.
yasusada is left alone, slowly bleeding out, until the darkness takes him.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
saturations) wrote2022-02-21 11:38 am
no subject
he doesn't know what's happening.
his hands come up and grasp yasusada, holding either side of his face, clutching, digging his nails in and dragging them down his cheeks, leaving bright red marks. he can't speak.]
no subject
The color is off-putting--that eerie glow far, far too reminiscent of their enemies, enough so that it sends a shiver through him. But that look of fear on his face strikes Yasusada's heart deeper than anything else could; it reminds him of blood and stars and a shaky, broken Yasusada? when he'd asked, What would you do if I broke?
Kashuu's(?) nails drag down his face, and it hurts--but with the hood back, Yasusada is free to try and grab them, to hold them tightly in his own.]
What is it? Kiyomitsu, I don't know, tell me--
[Why is he afraid? What are they fighting? What does he need to do?]
no subject
he tries to grab them, and he does. he can hold on. he can hold on just long enough for kashuu to violently shudder, and try to wrestle his hands away, try to get away, like an animal caught in a trap. he pulls hard enough that if yasusada doesn't let go in time, he yanks his arm out of its socket - but he can't speak. his mouth is closed. glued that way.]
no subject
But then Kashuu's hurting himself to get away, and it's startling enough that he lets go.
He scrambles back to his knees, reaching out again--this time for Kashuu's face.]
Kiyomitsu--! Who-- what happened--?
[Questions that can't be answered, because he doesn't know what else to do.]
Let's go, we can--Aruji can fix it, it'll be okay--
no subject
and when yasusada comes closer, reaches out, he flinches. sucks in a sharp breath through his nose. when he's touched, he freezes. stares... for a long moment, just watching.
around them, the air starts to vibrate, rip and tear. will it be okay? maybe it will.
or maybe it won't. has yasusada ever felt the sensation of water in his lungs before? because he chokes on it, on liquid that fills his throat. he's drowning, literally, as kashuu grabs his wrists with hands that glow blue.]
no subject
He is, however, intimately familiar with fluid in other people's lungs. He knows what it's like to watch someone choke, and cough, and struggle in vain for air as their body fights against them. It's a brand new sensation, but it's so, so familiar.
(How is he supposed to know this is water, after all? He's a sword--of course his first assumption is blood.)
He wasn't going to fight back anyway, but he certainly can't do it now--not when he's curling into himself, choking and gasping. Kashuu's free to grab his wrists as he pleases; it's hard to focus on him right now, so absorbed is Yasusada in the pressure within his chest.
Is this what Okita felt, every time he'd collapsed?
It hurts. It hurts.]
no subject
kashuu skitters away, when yasusada curls in on himself. he nearly breaks his ankle trying to do it, falling, hitting the ground and then pulling himself back up. he doesn't have anything to fight with. he should. where is he? fighting with himself is an extension of his body, and he feels empty without it.
but he can see yasusada, and he watches, from the table, as yasusada starts to drown. he doesn't - want this. he doesn't want this. so he stops the water from bubbling up in yasusada's lungs, and lets him breathe. he stops it, and looks down at his hands.
a sword materializes there. clutched in his fingers.]
no subject
So many sensations. You think he'd be used to this by now, but will they ever truly adjust to these bodies? To these hearts?]
Kiyo... mitsu... [His throat aches, and his voice is small.
Kashuu--is that his vessel? That's a good thing, isn't it? He succeeded in summoning it, finally. They don't need words, if they have their blades. It'll be okay.
He sags with relief, a little. Holds out his hand again.
They're leaving, right? Together?]
no subject
they can leave together, yes. that's the only thing that makes sense. kashuu slowly unsheathes the blade, and staggers forward. one step, two steps. and then chokes. tears start to pour down his face, but - it's color. neon, and varied, streaking down his face and staining his coat.
he makes his way to yasusada, and twirls his blade in his hand.
they can leave together.
kashuu slices forward - cuts yasusada's throat. ear to ear, deep.
and then he twirls the blade again and stabs it through his own stomach.]
no subject
It's not that Kashuu's drawn his blade. It's not that his steps are unsteady--it's not even the vibrant colors streaming down his cheeks, as unnatural as they are to perceive.
Yasusada couldn't pinpoint what, exactly, is wrong, even if he'd been of the mind to try. All he knows is that every instinct forged into him is screaming danger. Corruption. Run.
Run?
No. He could never do that to Kashuu.
He knows all too well what it feels like to be the one left behind.]
Kiyomitsu...?
[Kashuu's approaching him, and Yasusada's torn between the urge to run in two completely different directions. He wants to launch himself forward, to wrap his arms around Kashuu and pull them both out of this horrible place. He wants to scramble backwards, away--to sink into his natural state and find some way, any way, to cross blades with his partner. To speak to him in the truest sense. And it's the indecision, in the end, that keeps him frozen, just a little too long.
He shifts. He's still reaching. He opens his mouth.
And Kashuu's always been faster than he is.
And it hurts, he's sure; some part of him must know that. He'll realize it, perhaps, in the moments before it all goes dark. But first--first, he sees Kashuu turn his blade on himself, and... well.
I'd said it earlier, didn't I? In the end, his world is always, always his family.
He'd scream, but--well. That's not really an option anymore, now is it?]
no subject
whispers gather around the edges of the two of them, indecipherable but for a few. familiar voices. yasusada's comrades. his family? but he can't make out what they're saying. they're leaving. leaving him. he's broken, and they're gone. and there was something you were supposed to remember, but even now, you can't reach it. maybe it's safer behind closed doors, anyway. this is nicer. this is better. the people he loves, just once more.
the sword in kashuu's gut cracks, and shatters entirely. the force of it sends shrapnel at yasusada - embeds in his skin. kashuu shrieks, closed mouthed and writhing, and then goes limp entirely. his body vanishes.
yasusada is left alone, slowly bleeding out, until the darkness takes him.]