Please imagine him and Tsuyu playing cat's cradle but him not being able to fit his giant sausage fingers in the web.
<☽ > ‘TWAS SUCH A SIMPLE THING & yet it meant the world, to her at least. Activities such as games seemed to distract from the grim scenery all around; men with dead eyes & saddened hearts, women with features oh so lined. Sometimes one had to wonder … what had happened to turn a cheerful folk into such a broken crowd? Flinching / FEARING even the most tranquil of winds... Mayhap others knew answers but either way, were they not lost on her? Ah, ‘twas such a depressing thought there to do naught but add up to the sensation of emptiness looming within.
❝ no! You are doing it wrong. ❝ – hers was a genuine chuckle; lithe fingers plucking at the ribbon to reestablish striking ‘cradle’ with a single fluid motion. Whenever she started, he failed to take the cord, ripping the delicate constellation apart with rather clumsy attempts to pinch the ribbon. Whenever he started … alas, his fingers were too thick to even spin the correct form. Aye, one was supposed to DELICATELY tread instead of trying to stab the tiny spots between spread fingers. Own voice lowered a bit, lips curling into a mellow smile. ❝you have to be more careful. ❝
Cue a huff on his end, hands & arms falling in slight resignation. “By the Kami, ‘tis is impossible, Tsuyu!”
❝ well then. ❝ it was perhaps a tad bit too endearing to watch. An all-mighty samurai struggling with a simple child’s game, his lack of physical sensitivity perhaps ruining more than one might have guessed. Thus, she swiftly dropped the cord, tying the ends together whilst allowing own chin to dip thus breaking eye contact. ❝ – don’t worry. We will find some other game. I know plenty! ❝
Aye, ‘twas a hasty attempt to quench his frustration; she could almost feel his disappointment; rather the blame he again vehemently put on himself. Brows lowered for a moment, samurai’s saddened hum in acknowledgement stinging in own chest. How could someone oh so stubbornly see failure in every little misstep? Berating oneself out of impulse, out of the eager will to strive for perfection. – why would he? Fingers stopped working the knots, dimmed glare starring at idle hands. What was it that plagued him so? This kindhearted man, who had not left her side for a mere second; pity / DESPAIR overcame her, a feeling of sorrow rising & nestling in her throat, building a lump.
Lids fluttered close. – what if … what if both had history? A past, entwined by whatever these hands had done? There must have been a turbulent fore-time, there must have been some kind of struggle evident in the way this body’s skin seemed so maltreated & worn. Oh so soft to the touch but littered with marks & dents & memories that lingered beneath the surface, fading in & out making it sheerly impossible to grasp them. –
Chin jolted up, piercing hues wandering to meet his. Again, observe how worry spreads & festers, how it taints these weathered features, ruining the benevolence found within. – teeth grind, head canting down.
❝ I am sorry, Gosetsu I … – ❝ lost myself again.
Cue a laugh; loud chuckle followed by gruff arms carefully wrapping around own fragile figurine. It took her by surprise if only for a second; ‘til unbearable tension in limbs & muscles abated, ‘til transient nausea dwindled. “Don’t be sorry, child. You suddenly fell silent! I thought MY FAILURE was the sole reason for this. Let us play something else then, aye?”
Akin to daughter & father; mayhap that was it? This strange sentiment dwelling within one’s chest, memories blurred out by lacking remembrance. – aye, what of THIS CONNECTION was what had once tied their pasts together? Mayhap … they were family. Tsuyu gave a quick nod, mind however blank. – one remained silent, forehead resting against his broad chest.
Family… somehow, deep down she dared to doubt it.
areudirty
theartofmadeline
