estoria | [CLOSED] I tried-

Entry tags:

[CLOSED] I tried-

Who: A boy and his swords
What: Please get this goober to sit down before he literally busts a lung
When: Before event shenanigans
Where: Swordhaus.
Warnings: Tuberculosis, shitty coping mechanisms, dumbasses.

***

Returning to Cerealia is jarring as always. Thinking back on the time that had passed in between his last stay and now, the time as usual doesn't quite match up, and neither do his memories in themselves. He can remember being there before, but not remembering while he was home. Things that meant a lot to him here... just disappeared back home. And still no sense of loss, no comfort in the existence of another place interfered in any way with his time there.

It's strange, and unsettling, and he's not sure how to cope with it. He tries to put it out of his mind.

Being back in itself is honestly enough of a struggle. Caught between Yamato's overwhelming happiness to have him there, and his lack of memories of his previous stay, and Kashuu's seemingly acute memories of his entire stay, and his conflicted feelings both on Souji's departure and return... Well, it's complicated. Souji has always been good at receiving the complicated and the tangled and the hurting feelings of others, but not always quite as good at understanding them. He tries, he really does, but he knows there are limitations to what he can do.

And so he tries to do something simple instead.

Getting up early in the morning, while both swords are still curled up on their respective futons, he tiptoes into the kitchen. He has already gotten a fairly good grasp on what Kashuu likes - nothing too sweet, or if it is, make it cute - and he's got a feeling that Yamato's tastes won't be too different from his own. Or if they are, he'll still be happy with what Souji makes regardless. And so he sets to work, trying to make as elaborate and varied breakfast as he can manage with his still somewhat limited skills.

It goes well! It really does, honestly. It's not until the tray is set for three, and he's just crossing the kitchen with the teapot in hand, ready to set it down... Of course that's when it hits. That harsh, scraping rattle of his abused lungs, followed by the sharp sting of his throat contracting, and his gasping for air only makes it worse. There goes the teapot, hitting the floor heavily and spraying scalding water all over, causing Souji to stumble backwards and misstep, sinking to the floor while blood fills his mouth with the taste of metal, seeps over his lips, stains the sleeve he presses to his lips.

That could've gone better.

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

Kashuu is first to wake most mornings, since he has an early schedule (because beauty routines eat up so much damn time). That means he's already groggily accepting the fact that He Must Soon Wake by the time Souji drops the teapot, which startles him into a more immediate wakefulness. He sits up in his futon, poised and listening for further sounds that might indicate it's some kind of robbery.

None follow, but he's still on edge - especially since a cursory glance around the room shows that one person is missing. He reaches out to shake Yamato by the shoulder, brow drawn downward. No need to ask if he heard. It wouldn't be surprising if Yamato had already startled awake too, by the time he reached over.

He's on his feet shortly after, still wordless, grabbing his vessel on his way out the door just in case--

On the plus side, no danger is afoot out here! On the downside, Souji sure looks like he's struggling, ah.

"Hey—!"

And over he goes, swift in his concern despite how awkward and generally stilted he's been around Souji since he came back.

In stark contrast to Kashuu, Yamato is last to wake most mornings. He has no need for such an early schedule (he barely can be wrangled into combing his hair most mornings), and the extra bit of sleep just means more energy for the day. This morning; however, is different. The sound of the teapot dropping on the floor startles him awake, but it takes Kashuu's hand on his shoulder to tell him that he hadn't dreamed the commotion.

His own glance around the room tells him there's someone missing, has him on his feet, vessel in hand, immediately after Kashuu, out the door a half-step behind him...

He thinks he'd almost rather there be danger afoot out here, with how Souji's state brings back the sort of memories that have him wanting to go back to bed and forget he ever saw this.

He doesn't. Of course he doesn't, because he's needed, and he's quick to go to his side right along with Kashuu.

"Okita-kun...?"

He feels a dull stab of guilt at first, as he hears Kashuu's voice, quickly followed by swift steps approaching. He'd wanted to do something nice for them both, something that might perhaps make it a little bit easier, especially for Kashuu, to get used to his presence in their lives again. Instead, he'd caused trouble for his sword, and probably just made it harder for him to accept his presence there.

But it's not until he hears Yamato's voice that he really feels like his heart plunges in his chest - even through the ache that currently seems to be crowding it. Yamato, who must have memories of hours and days and months like this; of listening to his master gasping for every next breath, and feeling his grip grow weaker and weaker until he couldn't lift him at all.

He lifts his head, tries to smile, forces out, "I'm... I'm f-" But instead of more words there's a muffled sound somewhere between a cough and retching, and more blood dripping between his fingers as he hurriedly presses his hand to his lips. So much for calming anyone at all. Defeated, he slumps against Kashuu's side, allows his sword to support him while he fights to breathe again.

Kashuu is worried, too - for Souji and his weak body, for Yamato having to experience this all over again. It's difficult enough for him to watch it here and now, and he has his forced distance to protect him somewhat. He can't even imagine how this must feel for the other two, who have and will live through this.

The weight against his side is so slight that it's inconsequential. Kashuu reaches out briefly to smooth Souji's hair down in a reflexive gesture, and then he's slipping an arm under his shoulder and looking over toward Yamato.

"Help me get him back to the room, okay?"

Even though he knows he doesn't need to say anything - that the physical cues will be all Yamato needs. It's as much for Souji's sake as anything, really; a warning that he's about to be moved soon.

He hasn't even noticed the breakfast spread yet.

Somehow, some way, Yamato is the only one without too much worry. He remembers this, remembers the pain and stress and worry of watching days and weeks and months like this, of course he does, but he also knows that this isn't Souji's time. Not yet.

Mitsu isn't here to scold him for trying to prepare tea - much less the full breakfast left unnoticed behind them. That damned cat isn't here to mock them. Souji can still attempt to force a smile, can still try to reassure him he's fine... but then he always did try and keep up those particular lies until the end.

"Of course you're fine, Okita-kun."

And yet... he feels guilty that he's so sure of that fact, even as he's smudging blood away from Souji's fingers with his own sleeve, tidying him just enough that the insistence that he's fine can at least have some kind of plausible deniability. He's less fine than he should be. Yamato knows that. He knows they all know that. So then why is he the one that can stare this down with cold acceptance?

"But! You need to go back to bed. You put Kashuu Kiyomitsu to shame this morning, and you don't have a stupid beauty routine." Hollow teasing as he slips an arm around Souji's waist, aimed at the both of them, and with his voice not quite as sure as he'd like it to be, but it's better than silence, it's better than leaving the rattling in Souji's chest to be the only thing filling the silence.

A glance to Kashuu. A physical cue of his own that he's ready to help him, will follow his lead, this morning, without complaint. This is more important than their petty non-communication, anyway.

His first response, despite everything, is still to protest. Just because a lot has changed doesn't make it feel any better to readily accept his own helplessness, and to admit it to those who care so deeply about him. But at first, he is simply unable to do so, still choking on blood and frantically trying to pull more air into his lungs. Then, as a painful breath finally makes it down with a sound like tearing cloth, he has simultaneously managed to gather his thoughts enough as well. He inclines his head slightly in compliance with being taken back to bed, shifting a bit in an attempt to make it more convenient for the swords to lift him.

But as he does so, his eyes fall on the breakfast tray he'd so painstakingly prepared, and an involuntary little noise of protest leaves his throat. At the very least, he doesn't just want to leave it there, however ill thought out this plan had proven to be.

So he tugs gently at both swords' hair, and then nods slightly in the direction of the tray, smiling faintly. "That was supposed to be... for you." A small sigh, harsh and weak all at once. "'m sorry... 'bout this."

Well, it's impossible not to notice the tray now that it's actually been pointed out. Kashuu's gaze snaps over to where Souji is nodding, and his brow creases reflexively in an expression of - something a little more upset than he'd have liked, honestly, even if it only takes him a half-second to get it back under control. All of this just because he wanted to do something nice for them...

There's no way he's stopping to pick it up just yet though, so he'll only nod first to indicate that he's heard.

"All right, I'll come back and get it in a sec."

For now, he'll help Yamato maneuver Souji back into their room, helping him down onto the futon as carefully as possible. It's hard to ignore just how fragile humans are like this, and that's... painful. It would be nice if he could do more, but he shoves those feelings aside quickly, too.

With the trays pointed out, there's a swell of... something in Yamato. Guilt, for not noticing earlier, pride, because Souji still managed so much, despite everything, sadness, that it couldn't have been enjoyed as intended... happiness at the thought.

So, something.

But if Kashuu isn't setting Souji down gingerly, or handing him off, or holding him tighter to shoo Yamato off to retrieve the tray, there's no way he's about to, either, and he just offers an almost-smile for acknowledgement and thanks.

And so he'll help Kashuu settle Souji back onto the futon and... pointedly not ignore how fragile humans are like this, draping his blanket around Souji's shoulders (and noting how small he looks under it), all at once being excited at finally, finally being able to help and guilty for feeling even the slightest twinge of happiness about it.

"We'll be back in a moment..."

Because even if it only took Kashuu to carry the tray back, someone still had to make tea, right? And clean up the teapot and water left on the floor.

It's strange how sensitive his own fragile state makes him to the shifting emotions of those around him. Or... maybe not so strange, after all. Because as much as he's based most of his value on his abilities as a fighter, there's something else he's always been very good at, right? To soothe, to understand; to take in and not judge; to listen and to forgive. In the end, it had turned out to be the most important thing, hadn't it? He'd allowed himself to selectively forget, to shut down in self-defense, and had almost allowed himself to miss the thing which was more valuable than his sword arm, his talent, his ruthlessness.

It's an embarrassingly earnest thought, even in the privacy of his own heart, but the truth is that the most important thing has always been his ability to love. It's... It's something to be proud of, even. Too bad it had to take tears, far too many tears, to make him see that.

So yes, he notices that hurt in Kashuu's flickering expressions, and as he's lifted into the room he allows one hand to gently smooth down his hair in as much of a soothing gesture as he can manage like this. He notices, too, Yamato's conflicting emotions, and it's not hard to manage an encouraging smile even with his lips flecked in blood.

Once he's seated on the futon, pulling the blanket around himself, he even manages a playful shooing motion at them both, his smile bright and lively for at least a moment. "I probably can't get myself in trouble like this, at least. I'll be fine on my own, I promise."

Edited 2016-06-21 09:36 (UTC)

It's a little painful - that soothing gesture. Feeling Souji's hand against his head is like a bitter reminder or some sort of unwanted weight, even if he'll always accept the affection and love that's given to him through these little gestures. It's enough to make him feel both at ease and discomforted, so he's quick to rise and nod in response to both Souji and Yamato.

"Stay put, got it?"

Punk... He knows how Soujis work!! But since he doesn't think Souji will actually do anything to get himself in trouble, he'll turn on his heels and head for the kitchen.

Surprisingly, he's the one who grabs the towel and the fallen tea pot, not hesitating at all to do the cleaning here. He'll distract himself all he needs with as many different chores as he can complain about, okay. He'll go over to fetch the tray after he's done mopping up, quiet as he works.

Just as the soothing gesture is painful for Kashuu, so too is the encouraging smile for Yamato. He appreciates it, he does, and isn't about to dismiss the thought, but the fact he couldn't be strong enough in the face of... everything... the fact that it's needed in the first place stings, and for once he's quick to run away right along with Kashuu.

And yet...

"Don't try to find some way to get in trouble while we're gone!"

Because he knows if anyone could find a way it would be Souji!! But he'll still follow along right on Kashuu's heels back to the kitchen and... is beaten to the tidying, and left to put on a new pot of tea and wait with nothing to busy his hands with except knotting and unknotting them in his sleeves. Kashuu owed him for that one, the punk, and was less allowed than usual to complain about chores for at least three days!!

Not that he'll tell him as much. The kitchen is almost eerily quiet as they work, with the exception of clinking dishware and light scuffing of shoes on the floor. There's not even a break to the silence once the tea is remade and put on it's own tray for Yamato to carry off to their room. Just a nudge to Kashuu's side with his elbow.

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

[CLOSED] I tried-

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject