#kasumies

[hanakokyu]

❝   it's getting dark. better go!   ❞ nothing good ever happened at night.

@kasumies

[untoldwithin]

Continued from here. Kokichi Muta and Kasumi Miwa　一　 @kasumies

　　the shine of the stars is condemning, and the hum on the wind whispers what he already knows ; that he's already grated himself broken against the grains of fate. what are the higher ups going to decide? they seem indecisive, scrambling to keep his heart beating at the infirmary, with the intention to stop it again eventually.　( which he assumes is what they intend, probably after extracting any remaining use from him. ) 　maybe they wanted to inspect the anomaly that he is now -- flesh manipulated by cursed energy to resemble a man.　( who knows how functional this construct turns out to be, whether it was built to self-destruct. )

his reply is simple.　" no. "　still a product of his prior existence, words are scarce, optimized to a fault, despite the burning desire to wipe all that away and start from a blank slate, as a human, like he was always meant to. miwa's question is expected, because he's under orders not to exit the main building, but does it matter what he does if the end goal is his demise? there's a sort of ultimatum in his voice, something he can't quite hide because he's so unversed in the instrument of the organic body.

mahito had told him that he's lower than scum. he was right -- the curse-entity is made of the purest compounds compared to himself, shining with a twisted but blinding integrity that stretches his own shadow impossibly far. he has betrayed everything that once gave off any light within him ; the desire to be with everyone ensured that he never can, the desire to live lost him the right to. heroic is a word the heavens themselves keep apart from him now.

he's nevertheless decided on a few things.　he's a fugitive now, honorless and inhuman -- but the beat of his heart feels so good that it drowns out the guilt. the grass beneath his feet, the blush on his cheeks, miwa's voice -- he's numb to regret, like scum. she's alive, it's all that matters. he's lost the right to protect her, but she's alive, and he's still in the same world with her. even if she'll hate him for the rest of time, he wants to live to know it. whether that's love or selfishness, the scum can't tell. the scum has decided he'll live, no matter what. his parents are out there, and so are all the things he missed out on in the years spent in darkness and bandages.

his message haunts the silence between them, undiscussed like a terrible secret, the hum of a train's engine lingering between the words.

　　I survived, but I'm dying. I made a mistake because I'm weak. and I couldn't go through with that mistake, because I'm weak.

　　there was someone I loved.

　　no matter how you do it, if you're happy, my wish will have come true.

there isn't anything he has the right to say anymore.　strange, how he always dreamt to be in the same space with miwa like this, to talk to her, how the mere idea kept him fighting tooth and nail to stay alive. whatever words he chooses now, they're cursed to be selfish and cowardly, and the silence is audacious. he doesn't want to curse her any more than he already has, but he's too weak to resist his desire to be in her presence. leave before they see you with me, he wants to say, but can't.

the scum surrenders to the standstill, lowering himself to lay on the ground, spiting it with his yet-beating heart. he got out of the chamber, but he's wholly unchanged, a living husk that insults fate.