[With his tendency to stalk, eavesdrop, spy, and gladly stick his nose anywhere he could, the idea of Mukuro-sama not knowing the answer before he asked was slim. Chikusa knew him. Despite that, he still answered fairly quickly. Almost defensively.]
I've only left for supplies and... meeting Minato.
[It feels odd to call them dates, even though Mukuro-sama had already labeled them as such himself.]
[That small hint of defensiveness in Chikusa's voice, easily missed by anyone else, was plain to Mukuro, who shot the other boy an amused smile. He headed up the crumbling stair case to the upper floor that they inhabited, skipping a few steps as he climbed.]
How are these... meetings progressing?
[Said flippantly, with just the right undertone of mockery.]
[If not for his loyalty to Mukuro-sama, Chikusa would be tempted into thinking long and hard the positives of using his own Rain flame to simply sleep forever and avoid this mess. As it was, instead it was simply a flickering thought, and his shoulders hunched as he followed after at a slower pace.]
They're uneventful, Mukuro-sama. I'm sure you'd find them dull.
[He was sure of that, just from what he knew of him. They were mundane trivialities exchanged over simple food. Nothing particularly interesting to someone like him.]
[Chikusa was sadly incorrect if he believed that Mukuro didn't find these meetings absolutely fascinating. He had seen people who went through traumatic situations who had come out almost unscathed while different people had gone through similar situations and had been utterly destroyed. If Mukuro was honestly, his past had left him no better than the ruins of the buildings they inhabited. Chikusa, however, was showing signs of rebuilding, of growing.
He canted his head to the side, his gaze sliding up to Chikusa's face, expression subdued.]
You know I have an interest in anything you do, Chikusa.
[Said softly, almost intimately, but as with most of Mukuro's words, it carried the hint of a threat.]
[Like most things, however, he kept that to himself. He was loyal to Mukuro-sama, and would tell him all the important things... But some things were best kept to himself. As this situation had shown, however, that only really worked with his thoughts.]
I listen, Mukuro-sama. That's all. He seems content enough for me to do that.
[It was part of the draw, honestly. It was understood that he wouldn't talk much and didn't have a lot to contribute, and it wasn't a problem.]
[Well, even if Mukuro didn't have a high opinion of clerk-chan, he could appreciate someone who could find and utilize one of Chikusa's best traits.
He stopped at the top of the stairs, turning to face Chikusa fully, chin tilted upwards arrogantly.]
My, my, you're putting a fair bit of effort for trivialities.
[Still, he had made his point, and there was still Ken to greet after all this time he had been away and to make sure Fran was actually practicing like he had told him to.
He turned on a heel, waving a hand dismissively.]
I won't interfere any longer. [A lie, perhaps, but a truth maybe as well.] So do what you must.
[It was good that Mukuro turned around, because those words caused something in Chikusa's carefully blank expression to shift. Not quite his eyes lighting up, but something near it.]
["You can continue to see him."]
["So do what you must."]
[Slumping up to the top of the stairs and leaving Mukuro-sama be, Chikusa slowly made his way to a private area of the building where he could gather his racing thoughts. He wasn't foolish. He knew that, the way his mind was going, he'd be following the letter of Mukuro-sama's orders, but not the spirit he knew damned well was present. Was it for the best? He had no idea. It may very well earn that look again, a show of Mukuro-sama's fangs leveled to him of all people.]
[But he was doing what he must.]
[Chikusa stayed quiet the rest of the day, a not particularly unusual event, but spurred himself into action early the next morning. It wasn't something he wanted to do, honestly, but he was determined now to clean up this whole mess. It kept him going, a straight line as always when he has an objective. He was glad he'd done so much listening on the excursions of the past few weeks. It let him know Minato's schedule.]
[If only he was a better liar outside of omission. It'd make this easier if he were.]
[But Chikusa wasn't, so he made due with half truths spoken to the concerned clerk quietly in the back during a lull in the morning. Yes, everything was fine. (It could be worse.) It was just a misunderstanding. (In that he wasn't understanding what Mukuro-sama wanted out of this.) It was cleared up now. (He made his decision.) A family emergency had come up, so he wouldn't be in contact for a while.]
[...It wasn't untrue, but the last one wasn't what he meant to say. He meant to... finish this. Whatever it was. But looking up into that concerned stare threw him off guard, and that lie happened instead. It was frustrating, and he didn't understand it.]
[He wouldn't have to understand it, he told himself as he hastily left the store, heading deeper into the town. He was done with this. And to help him deal with a frankly exhausting affair, he slipped into a store and absconded with a book. Unpaid for, of course. The rest of his allowance was to be used for supplies.]
[He just wanted something to take his mind off of everything when he returned back to Kokuyo Land, determined to ignore everything except Mukuro-sama's orders and his reading for as long as he could get away with.]
[Unfortunately, Chikusa wouldn't be able to get away with it for long. For once, Mukuro had been preoccupied with other matters while Chikusa had went to visit clerk-chan, and so he hadn't been witness to the actual event. If he could get reliable information out of Fran, he might have sent him instead, or if Ken knew how to be subtle and had bathed recently, he would have let him be his eyes.
Fortunately, Mukuro knew both clerk-chan and Chikusa enough to know Chikusa hadn't exactly broken off their dates, considering clerk-chan didn't look devastated, merely worried. Well, he hadn't expected Chikusa to ruthlessly and efficiently dump someone, not in the state the other boy was in.
He let Chikusa have a few hours of quiet before he went to find him, settling down next to him, peering at the cover of the book thoughtfully. Then, leaning back he canted his gaze to Chikusa's face, expression carefully neutral ( read: still a bit mocking, but there was some fondness there as well ).]
[When you lived your life as an escaped human experiment with one boy who could transform his body with the attributes of various animals and another who was the best illusionist in the world, fiction seemed trite. Chikusa preferred making himself more useful. That's why the book in his hands was one of the human body, recent for the year. As Mukuro came besides him, he shifted as if wanting to be absorbed into the book itself.]
[Not even a day. He wasn't surprised.]
...I never wanted to date anyone in the first place, Mukuro-sama.
[Except when he did, but it was a mix of contradictory emotions Chikusa didn't like.]
You'll have to convince yourself of that before you can even try with me.
[It was said somewhere between flippant and fond, Mukuro's mouth curved in an indulgent smile. For a boy who was so set on being as emotionless as possible, he was the exact opposite. The fact that he had sought out solitude and silence was a testament to how turbulent his emotions might be, and Mukuro had left Chikusa alone with this long enough. He would guide him as best he could, whether for Chikusa's own well-being or his own selfish desires, it was hard to say.
He leaned back, propping his feet up in Chikusa's lap to get his gaze out of the book and where it belonged.]
Should I help you sort out your emotions and put you at peace, Chikusa?
[If he wanted to be stubborn, Chikusa could stubbornly keep reading. However, he knew how Mukuro was. Ignoring him would just get him aggravated, and, on days like this where he was trying to take the easy way where he didn't have to expend effort, it'd be better for Chikusa.]
[...And, as the other no doubt knew, he couldn't fight the way his gaze slid from the book to Mukuro with reluctant interest.]
...How?
[You didn't make a deal with the devil until you go the details and the fine print, and with Mukuro-sama.... Well. Chikusa was fairly certain Mukuro could chase the Devil out of his own home with more than necessary glee if given the chance.]
[Some days, Chikusa was easier to manipulate than Ken, his trust and belief in Mukuro unwavering to the point where Mukuro, who questioned everything, didn't question that. He had seen even in that ruined future how loyal Chikusa and the others had been, how they had tried desperately to fulfill his wishes, even if that other Mukuro had been a blind fool. Was he following in those same footsteps? It was hard to say, but at least if he failed he would do so in a new way.
Mukuro smirked, poisonous and vicious, the coils of an illusion at his fingertips, restless and writhing like a snake.]
I could show you what would have happened if you continued. Every single outcome.
[Because why leave any questions when Mukuro had already seen these sorts of situations play out over and over again, through lifetimes and parallel universes.]
[Chikusa's first thought: That is a disastrous idea.]
[He knew better than to give Mukuro-sama free reign like that. Honestly, the other boy's sadistic sense of humor could be tiring sometimes. (Although Chikusa thought that of many things.) It'd be asking for trouble. Besides, how did it make sense? How would that help his emotions?]
[Then again... Chikusa's eyes had gone dark as he'd withdrawn into his own mind, lost in thought. Nothing from the start had made sense ever since his emotions had turned on him in this new way. How could he accurately say what they would or wouldn't do?]
[A long quiet, and then he slowly closed the book.]
Will that stop me from feeling anything more about it?
[About the sole person throwing his entire life into disarray.]
[Mukuro let Chikusa mull the idea over, already sure the other boy would give in. For better or for worse, Chikusa trusted him without fail even when he lied, stole, and killed. It was admirable, in a way, or blind in another.
When Chikusa closed his book, he let his gaze flicker up to his face, smile slow in unfurling.]
Your emotions are your own. [So Mukuro made no promises then, but that shouldn't be surprising.] But it will give you clarity, and in time, peace.
[Peace, but in time... Could he be that patient? There was an itch under his skin, scrambled emotions sticking up through his veins. Yet it wasn't as though he had any other better options.]
[His fingers curled against the book before he set it to the side. He did just buy it. Whatever Mukuro-sama had planned, he didn't want it ruined, at least.]
[What a good, obedient boy, that Chikusa. Mukuro's mouth curved up into a victorious smirk, somewhere between sweetness and poison, and to jumpstart the illusion, he reached over, viciously pressing his fingers into the softness of Chikusa's eye as if to pluck it out.
Before the ( illusionary ) pain could fully kick in, Chikusa would be seated across the table from clerk-chan, listening to him speak. There would be more and more dates, until they started becoming more elaborate and involved. First the movies, walks in the park, then, once, a high class restaurant. Clerk-chan would ask him to move in.
Then, Chikusa would be in a nondescript kitchen watching clerk-chan humming as he cooked, a delightfully domestic scene. Mukuro wove together the illusion of their every day life, clerk-chan having gotten into a good university and was aiming to become a simple salary man while Chikusa studied to become a doctor. There were dinner dates, classmates who dragged them out to do karaoke, exams. Every once in a while one of the Kokuyo Gang would be on the fringes of his life, but their absence was unstated but apparent.
They grew old together and lived a normal life, and Mukuro kept cycling through different pieces of normalcy, gently easing bits and pieces of reality back in. There would be the universe where someone would break into their apartment and Chikusa would have to kill someone before clerk-chan's very eyes. There would be meeting Chrome, battered and bruised from a battle and barely breathing. There would be meeting Fran, who would have nothing but smart ass remarks. There would be meeting Ken, who would probably stick around longer than anyone else. Chikusa might catch M.M. leaning against an expensive sports car one afternoon outside of his house. Mukuro kept himself absent. Clerk-chan would take these meetings like a normal, sane person, namely his reactions ran the gambit between fainting, disbelief, shock, and horror.
Mukuro let the rest of their reality bleed in. Their enemies finding clerk-chan and disposing of him in several, messy ways. There was clerk-chan finding out Chikusa was a wanted criminal and wanting to do nothing with him, and in the next illusion as a jarring juxtaposition, tried to convince him it didn't matter even when it did.
He went through every scenario he had envisioned then a few more, and once he was satisfied that he had Chikusa live through every possibility, he withdrew his hand and the illusion, his feet still in Chikusa's lap, expression searching Chikusa's face. Only half an hour had elapsed, but it had been lifetimes for the other boy.]
[He certainly takes a breath like one, at any rate, sharp and guttural as though his head has been yanked out roughly from water. It goes straight into him, a contrast to the short shallow versions which follow after as if trying to fill his lungs as quickly as possible. His eyes flick around the room, surveying it with practiced speed, but there's no real thought behind it. Escape routes, hiding spots- it's all information he absorbs on a basic level. When you run long enough, certain things become ingrained in you. No thought is needed.]
[Soon enough, however, his gaze finally returns to Mukuro- less from his welcome or even voice, and simply because that's where it always returns to. Movement catches his attention, but when Chikusa looks, to his bewilderment, it's just one of his own trembling hands. Granted, he can't see the way his normally stoic facade is clearly under threat of crumbling.]
[It'd been too much.]
[Feeling tension he's had all his life ease away, replaced by a strange and cautious curiosity at every mundane event that seeps into his life. The hollowness, aching in his chest and rattling in his jaw. Paranoia being proved wrong time and time again, worn down patiently by softness- ]
[(Except when it isn't, a weapon in his hand, blood on his shoes, a strangled noise behind him, and he is so blissfully detached)]
[Frustration- a grating sandpaper against his nerves, because he doesn't know how to make everything work, and panic because he doesn't know, and if Dokuro is like this, what of- Fond exasperation and wariness and I want this to work with his fingers curled along blond hair as a restraint, only now his fingers are curled around a yoyo and he is unsurprised, he is telling himself he is unsurprised, yet there's something acidic on the back of his tongue as blood sinks into the soles of his shoes and it could be bile or hatred and...]
[It's not betrayal. It's common sense. That meant it wasn't supposed to ache, like a knife in his gut, the way it did. And then whiplash, wounds smoothed over like mud over a hole, but he's so goddamn tired-]
[Chikusa stares. This is nothing like the mess he'd thought his emotions before. It's worse.]
[It takes a few tries before his voice works, low and a little hoarse.]
Mukuro-sama?
[Not an illusion this time, he's fairly sure. And if it is, well, he guesses he'll find out. The state his head is in, he can't bother to think much past that.]
[Perhaps it had been too much to do all at once, but Mukuro was one to test the limits of everything and everyone, even the minds of his precious subordinates. Having a few lifetimes shoved into one's mind was painful, disorienting, maddening. Yet Chikusa had handled it well, and like an owner pleased with the trick a pet had performed, Mukuro ran a hand along the back of Chikusa's neck, soothing and soft.]
It's me.
[Which he had said before, countless times as an illusion, but for now it was the truth, his fingers solid as he ran them through Chikusa's hair.]
Rest. You've seen much.
[Mukuro might even offer his lap, picking up Chikusa's discarded book to have something to occupy himself.]
[It could very well not be Mukuro. Chikusa was aware of how illusions worked, even before he'd been jerked about through imaginary lives like a puppet on strings.]
[Yet something about the touch at his neck seemed to be enough to help settle at least something in his rattling mess of a being. In the absence of all else, he still followed Mukuro's voice, leaning into the fingers that slid through his hair and nudged at his hat. His shaking limbs made movement a bit tricky as he slowly curled along the rotten sofa, legs still half under Mukuro's.]
[Sleep wouldn't come easily after that, however. Too much energy, wrought by emotions that wouldn't stop despite his best efforts. His mutter sunk into Mukuro's thigh.]
I don't want any of it, Mukuro-sama.
[Emotions. His aggressive longing for apathy had, if anything, only worsened with Mukuro's help.]
[The whole purpose of this exercise ( other than to see how much a mind could take ) was for Chikusa to sort through his emotions himself, to find what truths he needed to find and come to a conclusion. Still, Mukuro supposed that was too much to ask for someone who spent their every waking moment trying to suppress their feelings, and who had just undergone several lifetimes.
So, Mukuro continued to stroke his hair, looking at the book open in his lap, but gaze unseeing.]
Each outcome came only with something sacrificed. What do you want and what are you willing to give up? Nothing, especially happiness or normality, comes for free. Yet in our world, happiness and normality are next to nonexistent.
[For once, Chikusa would have been relieved if Mukuro-sama had gone on one of his usual melodramatic speeches. Just listening to him, timing the inhale-exhale of his lungs to match, was helping his sense of self come back to where it was supposed to be. No more tidal wave of emotions and experiences to overwhelm him, just the aftershocks.]
[That he was being given an answer was even better, and Chikusa looked up into that mismatched stare, still curled up against the other. A nod, more felt than seen against Mukuro's leg.]
It's not worth it. That life.
[Even in the best case scenario, the one most devoid of bloodshed but also devoid of the others, there'd been that hollowness. It had disrupted every bit of peace and normalcy in that life, always lurking.]
[At that admission, Mukuro made a small, pleased noise. He had known all along that would be the conclusion, but he was content all the same. He did enjoy being right.]
Are you feeling better?
[It might have been concern if his hands weren't possessively on him, his smirk self-satisfied.]
[The shaking had lessened, but by no means had it completely stopped. Who knew how long it would take for him to get over the many images that had flooded his perception, and if they would leave his sleep free of nightmares. At least he could breathe again. That was something.]
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badliifechoiice22016-01-08 10:36 am
no subject
[With his tendency to stalk, eavesdrop, spy, and gladly stick his nose anywhere he could, the idea of Mukuro-sama not knowing the answer before he asked was slim. Chikusa knew him. Despite that, he still answered fairly quickly. Almost defensively.]
I've only left for supplies and... meeting Minato.
[It feels odd to call them dates, even though Mukuro-sama had already labeled them as such himself.]
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How are these... meetings progressing?
[Said flippantly, with just the right undertone of mockery.]
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They're uneventful, Mukuro-sama. I'm sure you'd find them dull.
[He was sure of that, just from what he knew of him. They were mundane trivialities exchanged over simple food. Nothing particularly interesting to someone like him.]
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He canted his head to the side, his gaze sliding up to Chikusa's face, expression subdued.]
You know I have an interest in anything you do, Chikusa.
[Said softly, almost intimately, but as with most of Mukuro's words, it carried the hint of a threat.]
no subject
[Like most things, however, he kept that to himself. He was loyal to Mukuro-sama, and would tell him all the important things... But some things were best kept to himself. As this situation had shown, however, that only really worked with his thoughts.]
I listen, Mukuro-sama. That's all. He seems content enough for me to do that.
[It was part of the draw, honestly. It was understood that he wouldn't talk much and didn't have a lot to contribute, and it wasn't a problem.]
...It's mainly mundane things. Trivialities.
no subject
He stopped at the top of the stairs, turning to face Chikusa fully, chin tilted upwards arrogantly.]
My, my, you're putting a fair bit of effort for trivialities.
[Still, he had made his point, and there was still Ken to greet after all this time he had been away and to make sure Fran was actually practicing like he had told him to.
He turned on a heel, waving a hand dismissively.]
I won't interfere any longer. [A lie, perhaps, but a truth maybe as well.] So do what you must.
no subject
["You can continue to see him."]
["So do what you must."]
[Slumping up to the top of the stairs and leaving Mukuro-sama be, Chikusa slowly made his way to a private area of the building where he could gather his racing thoughts. He wasn't foolish. He knew that, the way his mind was going, he'd be following the letter of Mukuro-sama's orders, but not the spirit he knew damned well was present. Was it for the best? He had no idea. It may very well earn that look again, a show of Mukuro-sama's fangs leveled to him of all people.]
[But he was doing what he must.]
[Chikusa stayed quiet the rest of the day, a not particularly unusual event, but spurred himself into action early the next morning. It wasn't something he wanted to do, honestly, but he was determined now to clean up this whole mess. It kept him going, a straight line as always when he has an objective. He was glad he'd done so much listening on the excursions of the past few weeks. It let him know Minato's schedule.]
[If only he was a better liar outside of omission. It'd make this easier if he were.]
[But Chikusa wasn't, so he made due with half truths spoken to the concerned clerk quietly in the back during a lull in the morning. Yes, everything was fine. (It could be worse.) It was just a misunderstanding. (In that he wasn't understanding what Mukuro-sama wanted out of this.) It was cleared up now. (He made his decision.) A family emergency had come up, so he wouldn't be in contact for a while.]
[...It wasn't untrue, but the last one wasn't what he meant to say. He meant to... finish this. Whatever it was. But looking up into that concerned stare threw him off guard, and that lie happened instead. It was frustrating, and he didn't understand it.]
[He wouldn't have to understand it, he told himself as he hastily left the store, heading deeper into the town. He was done with this. And to help him deal with a frankly exhausting affair, he slipped into a store and absconded with a book. Unpaid for, of course. The rest of his allowance was to be used for supplies.]
[He just wanted something to take his mind off of everything when he returned back to Kokuyo Land, determined to ignore everything except Mukuro-sama's orders and his reading for as long as he could get away with.]
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Fortunately, Mukuro knew both clerk-chan and Chikusa enough to know Chikusa hadn't exactly broken off their dates, considering clerk-chan didn't look devastated, merely worried. Well, he hadn't expected Chikusa to ruthlessly and efficiently dump someone, not in the state the other boy was in.
He let Chikusa have a few hours of quiet before he went to find him, settling down next to him, peering at the cover of the book thoughtfully. Then, leaning back he canted his gaze to Chikusa's face, expression carefully neutral ( read: still a bit mocking, but there was some fondness there as well ).]
Having doubts?
no subject
[Not even a day. He wasn't surprised.]
...I never wanted to date anyone in the first place, Mukuro-sama.
[Except when he did, but it was a mix of contradictory emotions Chikusa didn't like.]
no subject
[It was said somewhere between flippant and fond, Mukuro's mouth curved in an indulgent smile. For a boy who was so set on being as emotionless as possible, he was the exact opposite. The fact that he had sought out solitude and silence was a testament to how turbulent his emotions might be, and Mukuro had left Chikusa alone with this long enough. He would guide him as best he could, whether for Chikusa's own well-being or his own selfish desires, it was hard to say.
He leaned back, propping his feet up in Chikusa's lap to get his gaze out of the book and where it belonged.]
Should I help you sort out your emotions and put you at peace, Chikusa?
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[...And, as the other no doubt knew, he couldn't fight the way his gaze slid from the book to Mukuro with reluctant interest.]
...How?
[You didn't make a deal with the devil until you go the details and the fine print, and with Mukuro-sama.... Well. Chikusa was fairly certain Mukuro could chase the Devil out of his own home with more than necessary glee if given the chance.]
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Mukuro smirked, poisonous and vicious, the coils of an illusion at his fingertips, restless and writhing like a snake.]
I could show you what would have happened if you continued. Every single outcome.
[Because why leave any questions when Mukuro had already seen these sorts of situations play out over and over again, through lifetimes and parallel universes.]
no subject
[He knew better than to give Mukuro-sama free reign like that. Honestly, the other boy's sadistic sense of humor could be tiring sometimes. (Although Chikusa thought that of many things.) It'd be asking for trouble. Besides, how did it make sense? How would that help his emotions?]
[Then again... Chikusa's eyes had gone dark as he'd withdrawn into his own mind, lost in thought. Nothing from the start had made sense ever since his emotions had turned on him in this new way. How could he accurately say what they would or wouldn't do?]
[A long quiet, and then he slowly closed the book.]
Will that stop me from feeling anything more about it?
[About the sole person throwing his entire life into disarray.]
no subject
When Chikusa closed his book, he let his gaze flicker up to his face, smile slow in unfurling.]
Your emotions are your own. [So Mukuro made no promises then, but that shouldn't be surprising.] But it will give you clarity, and in time, peace.
no subject
[His fingers curled against the book before he set it to the side. He did just buy it. Whatever Mukuro-sama had planned, he didn't want it ruined, at least.]
[A single nod was all he gave.]
tl;dr
Before the ( illusionary ) pain could fully kick in, Chikusa would be seated across the table from clerk-chan, listening to him speak. There would be more and more dates, until they started becoming more elaborate and involved. First the movies, walks in the park, then, once, a high class restaurant. Clerk-chan would ask him to move in.
Then, Chikusa would be in a nondescript kitchen watching clerk-chan humming as he cooked, a delightfully domestic scene. Mukuro wove together the illusion of their every day life, clerk-chan having gotten into a good university and was aiming to become a simple salary man while Chikusa studied to become a doctor. There were dinner dates, classmates who dragged them out to do karaoke, exams. Every once in a while one of the Kokuyo Gang would be on the fringes of his life, but their absence was unstated but apparent.
They grew old together and lived a normal life, and Mukuro kept cycling through different pieces of normalcy, gently easing bits and pieces of reality back in. There would be the universe where someone would break into their apartment and Chikusa would have to kill someone before clerk-chan's very eyes. There would be meeting Chrome, battered and bruised from a battle and barely breathing. There would be meeting Fran, who would have nothing but smart ass remarks. There would be meeting Ken, who would probably stick around longer than anyone else. Chikusa might catch M.M. leaning against an expensive sports car one afternoon outside of his house. Mukuro kept himself absent. Clerk-chan would take these meetings like a normal, sane person, namely his reactions ran the gambit between fainting, disbelief, shock, and horror.
Mukuro let the rest of their reality bleed in. Their enemies finding clerk-chan and disposing of him in several, messy ways. There was clerk-chan finding out Chikusa was a wanted criminal and wanting to do nothing with him, and in the next illusion as a jarring juxtaposition, tried to convince him it didn't matter even when it did.
He went through every scenario he had envisioned then a few more, and once he was satisfied that he had Chikusa live through every possibility, he withdrew his hand and the illusion, his feet still in Chikusa's lap, expression searching Chikusa's face. Only half an hour had elapsed, but it had been lifetimes for the other boy.]
Welcome back, Chikusa.
no subject
[He certainly takes a breath like one, at any rate, sharp and guttural as though his head has been yanked out roughly from water. It goes straight into him, a contrast to the short shallow versions which follow after as if trying to fill his lungs as quickly as possible. His eyes flick around the room, surveying it with practiced speed, but there's no real thought behind it. Escape routes, hiding spots- it's all information he absorbs on a basic level. When you run long enough, certain things become ingrained in you. No thought is needed.]
[Soon enough, however, his gaze finally returns to Mukuro- less from his welcome or even voice, and simply because that's where it always returns to. Movement catches his attention, but when Chikusa looks, to his bewilderment, it's just one of his own trembling hands. Granted, he can't see the way his normally stoic facade is clearly under threat of crumbling.]
[It'd been too much.]
[Feeling tension he's had all his life ease away, replaced by a strange and cautious curiosity at every mundane event that seeps into his life. The hollowness, aching in his chest and rattling in his jaw. Paranoia being proved wrong time and time again, worn down patiently by softness- ]
[(Except when it isn't, a weapon in his hand, blood on his shoes, a strangled noise behind him, and he is so blissfully detached)]
[Frustration- a grating sandpaper against his nerves, because he doesn't know how to make everything work, and panic because he doesn't know, and if Dokuro is like this, what of- Fond exasperation and wariness and I want this to work with his fingers curled along blond hair as a restraint, only now his fingers are curled around a yoyo and he is unsurprised, he is telling himself he is unsurprised, yet there's something acidic on the back of his tongue as blood sinks into the soles of his shoes and it could be bile or hatred and...]
[It's not betrayal. It's common sense. That meant it wasn't supposed to ache, like a knife in his gut, the way it did. And then whiplash, wounds smoothed over like mud over a hole, but he's so goddamn tired-]
[Chikusa stares. This is nothing like the mess he'd thought his emotions before. It's worse.]
[It takes a few tries before his voice works, low and a little hoarse.]
Mukuro-sama?
[Not an illusion this time, he's fairly sure. And if it is, well, he guesses he'll find out. The state his head is in, he can't bother to think much past that.]
no subject
It's me.
[Which he had said before, countless times as an illusion, but for now it was the truth, his fingers solid as he ran them through Chikusa's hair.]
Rest. You've seen much.
[Mukuro might even offer his lap, picking up Chikusa's discarded book to have something to occupy himself.]
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[Yet something about the touch at his neck seemed to be enough to help settle at least something in his rattling mess of a being. In the absence of all else, he still followed Mukuro's voice, leaning into the fingers that slid through his hair and nudged at his hat. His shaking limbs made movement a bit tricky as he slowly curled along the rotten sofa, legs still half under Mukuro's.]
[Sleep wouldn't come easily after that, however. Too much energy, wrought by emotions that wouldn't stop despite his best efforts. His mutter sunk into Mukuro's thigh.]
I don't want any of it, Mukuro-sama.
[Emotions. His aggressive longing for apathy had, if anything, only worsened with Mukuro's help.]
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[Said almost sympathetically as he ran his fingers gently through Chikusa's hair, opening the book with the other hand.]
If you didn't have them, you would be dead. You're far too important to me for that.
[The words might be a bit rich considering he had almost tore his mind apart as easily as breathing, but there was truth there.]
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How will it help?
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So, Mukuro continued to stroke his hair, looking at the book open in his lap, but gaze unseeing.]
Each outcome came only with something sacrificed. What do you want and what are you willing to give up? Nothing, especially happiness or normality, comes for free. Yet in our world, happiness and normality are next to nonexistent.
[He turned to look at Chikusa, red eye ominous.]
It should put everything into prospective.
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[That he was being given an answer was even better, and Chikusa looked up into that mismatched stare, still curled up against the other. A nod, more felt than seen against Mukuro's leg.]
It's not worth it. That life.
[Even in the best case scenario, the one most devoid of bloodshed but also devoid of the others, there'd been that hollowness. It had disrupted every bit of peace and normalcy in that life, always lurking.]
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Are you feeling better?
[It might have been concern if his hands weren't possessively on him, his smirk self-satisfied.]
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[The shaking had lessened, but by no means had it completely stopped. Who knew how long it would take for him to get over the many images that had flooded his perception, and if they would leave his sleep free of nightmares. At least he could breathe again. That was something.]
...Was all of that necessary, Mukuro-sama?
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