Her hands shook, so she writhed them together and pressed to prevent him from seeing. Reflexes had been pinned down by the ache that accompanied lethargy. Across her clouded field of thoughts, the one thing that translated quite clearly that he was discomposed by her. Choking back his shouts, nose crinkling and eyebrows pinching together in anger. Each word he used seemed to strike her in the abdomen, upsetting it, making it twist in knots. Awkward and unprepared, breaking apart and falling to hysteria was almost unescapable when he spoke to her like this. It was the last thing she ever wanted, to make him feel this way. However, she’d never seen herself worthy of such concern. Nor did she ever expect him to press and pry— ‘twas usually her standing at his door, asking if he wanted to eat or if he was feeling all right. The change in him made her shiver, no longer did reason resonate.
He asks her for the truth. Therefore, she o b e y s.
”Fuyuhiko— I-It’s… just that…
I feel I need to stay strong for you.
To become a burden when you are
clearly suffering as well… I would…
—I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself.”
Honesty laid bare, tumbling out from her lips so clumsily. The lingering concerns that resided within her mind whilst trapped pon the island. Peaceful days away from the Kuzuryuu Clan made her want to try and change, made her want to try and get closer to him. Her king fought a lonely battle with himself, she knew it well, and she needn’t become a problem to him. No, she couldn’t allow it.
—and she had f a i l e d.
”Back then I… did so little to console you and
thought even if I lied and said everything’s all
right… that maybe you would feel better and s m i l e.”
Upon her visage was a weary, almost overwhelmed grin. Her heart felt heavy with emotion and a sudden dizzying spell forced her to press her fingers to her forehead and bow her head. ‘Nnn' everything around her is spinning, like those dreamscape carousels—
”I’m a f o o l… I should have known…
t-that I wouldn’t be able to accomplish even that.
I haven’t changed at all since then.”
It took all of her strength to lift her head and look at him again— folding arms around herself for much needed prosperity. She had told him; those things that she had been much too afraid to admit aloud. In response, her tired heart thundered. How long had it been since she last saw him smile…? Twas a grim thought.
A humorless, knowing laugh escapes her lips and she aims her gaze at the floor, as though ashamed of herself. Her next words are spoken, little more than a whisper.
”I apologize… it is just as you say..
I haven’t slept for weeks.”
Sleepless nights weren't foreign to either; her voice was always so soothing, yet the truth pouring from a fake grin was more of poison. ( And that was unfamiliar to he. ) The facades were nary so unusual, howsoever--although pallid complexion and silver shadowing eyen gave way to the reality of her well-being. He differed no less, though was pale prior to the insomnia. It helped however slight to deny days without sleep--that said he was positive she'd known, natheless. Then her silence is cut short and sole word catches attention:
A word she'd seemingly replaced tool for--------
and still was dismissed as untrue. Albeit twas a LIE, no matter how often he'd say it wasn't; they were each other's obstructions, causing grief from the pain they were damned to bear. Yet they also were the only hope either had left. Other survivors had their own demons and nightmares, and if recovery with the carmine hued wasn't attainable, it was hopeless with any other. They were still flying; teetering 'pon a line so easily crossed. ( Ductile, were they, that they'd so easily fallen from mere w o r d s ) And he--both--had, subsequent to the rehabilitation and the once proclaimed "field trip". They'd flown past the line & to the s u n ( and they had BURNED. )
She wished for a s m i l e...? Twas a feat he'd yet to conquer since afore Peko's revival. Each attempt was for naught: even as she awoke, anything resembling such fell from visage, and relief or remorse took it's place. And still he wanted the same from her: genuine and without rue. However this taints his expression; regret. To have pushed her at all, or mayhaps of letting her leave and burn. He could hardly remember the last true smile to grace features, let alone anything more: since caesious crowns were donned beneanth both oculi, any thoughts of SMILING wilted as though a dying bloom.
He wished to console, perhaps only to halt such a tragic grin--a hopeless grin. Albeit he'd never been programmed to act as such: his only means of helping were far from a solace ( to either ). & so his words are lacking sympathy or the like. Twas the greatest one would dream of receiving. As brought up in a world of constant WAR amidst both reality and home, tact was hardly a common teaching.
Hopeless, was he, to hold on so dearly to life. HOPELESS, he was. To hold onto a life naught but d e s p a i r.
Hopeless it was: to cling to a soul forevermore untouchable.
❝ Idiot. Get some damn rest sometime;
you can't keep goin' like this.
And I've already told you.
You're not you've
never been a
burden. ❞
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