It's a fact Eichi has known since he's been capable of coming up with his own thoughts. Death surrounded him, expectations weighed him down, and in order to survive, he had to be willing to throw his life way and go all out. That had always been the case. No one else had understood. Not even his childhood best friend who'd finally been driven to abandon him. Not the comrades he'd worked so hard to surround himself, hand-picking and driving one by one to quitting. But he knew that in order to make his life worth something, in order to be anything worth more than a speck of dirt, this is the path he had to take.
So, it's something like karma that must have him in this position now, right? Karma... He actually doesn't believe in it at all. There's no scale measuring how much one person deserves anything, how one's actions might affect them later. There's only the matter of covering your tracks correctly or not. Of having control or not. And here, arms bound to the back of the chair he sat in, he had no power. He had his name, a use, but no control of it.
He'd been missing for three days now, and rumors were spreading that he might already be dead. His parents were spitting out money as ransom, and it was honestly impressive that he hadn't been recovered. It's not the first time this sort of thing has been attempted, but it's the first time the kidnappers haven't been immediately outed and arrested. The Tenshouin zaibatsu had such influence over Japan and the world that most didn't dare try to mess with something so serious, not after the examples that were made. But somehow, this group had managed to keep themselves mysterious.
So mysterious that even Eichi isn't sure why he's being treated so harshly. Some dull question is thrown at him again, asking if he's come to any conclusion about who they might be, if he even has a feeling, but Eichi's reply is simple.]
No; I have no idea who any of you people are.
[His answer is met with rage. A fist meets the side of his face again, and he blacks out too quickly. But as the chair falls to its side and he goes limp, his last thought is incredibly clear: is this how I'm finally going to die?
And, after that, an image.
A beautiful, talented man, like someone touched by the Gods. An angel brought to life. Someone too perfect to exist, moving effortlessly and accidentally creating impressive things in everything that he does. Someone completely, unbearably, unfairly... amazing. And Eichi hasn't moved close enough to him yet. He can't die until that. At the very least, he wants to reach him, to surpass him, to wind his thin and sickly fingers around that delicate looking neck and squeeze, to watch the life drain from such perfection. To feel the rush. But his fingertips can't even brush at the ends of that long, gorgeous hair just yet. He's not far enough. He can't die, he can't...
He's been thinking about Wataru (about Hibiki-kun) a lot these past few days, though he wishes he wouldn't. A target at the top of a large pyramid, someone he's caused absolute misery for and hasn't relented, a worthwhile rival who's entirely out of his league, but still, Eichi doesn't want to consider his feelings on the matter. Here, in a kidnapping that has nothing to do with their voices, their talents, or anything, why is he coming up? Why is it that no matter the situation, his face appears? That he can hear his voice repeating any calm and collected retort, scathing as they may be, no matter where he is?
Eichi doesn't know that Wataru is the only one who happens to have the clues to unlock just who this group is. He doesn't know that he's managed to find the location. Why should he? The number of things he's done to him... Just like everyone else, he must hate Eichi for it. Eichi knows that. And so, he expects to be left here to die.]
[Wataru has always fancied himself more Phantom Thief than hero, just because he's always liked that romanticized image of danger and mystique. He never actually expected to be in a situation like this. But with two men fallen behind him and two ahead, the men and a door the only thing between him and his goal, it's the perfect time to reconsider classmate Morisawa Chiaki's way of life. He might just be cut out for the hero business, after all.
It'd be a nice change from the norm. It started at the beginning of second year, for reasons he still doesn't fully understand. Someone cut a chunk of his hair during class. Someone moved his doves and he couldn't find them for four panicked hours. His hot air balloon was grounded by the authorities.
It escalated. Empty seats for theater performances became unruly crowds that booed him, theater costumes were destroyed, and finally all but one of his club members left for fear of ruining their reputations and getting hurt.
The theater club destroyed, the assailant moved on to Wataru's family, prank calls at odd hours that kept his aging parents awake, rumors spread that jeopardized their jobs. All he could do was apologize. The culprit wasn't clear for the longest time. But he had a suspicion. He would never be able to fully confirm that Eichi Tenshouin was the world's most aggressive, insidious bully, but all signs he could find pointed to it. As his dearest friends were socially picked off one by one, he saw his own end in sight.
Then Eichi stopped coming to class. That wasn't so unusual, really, as he was sickly and had many issues to deal with. No, something was different about this. He saw a note in Eichi's shoe locker in passing the second day, and curiosity got the better of him. The ransom note read all too familiar for the crime drama addict, and in a matter of hours he had pieced together in idle time his hypothesis for who had Eichi and where he was.
He took it to the Tenshouin family, who largely thought he was a liar, and probably himself involved. Eichi's usual bodyguards would hear none of it at first, no matter how much Wataru begged and lowered his head. The boy was a classmate, nothing more, a threat, a terrible person, but Wataru was sure that if they didn't find him, he would die. And Wataru swore long ago to harm no one as he went through life, unless they really, really deserved it.
The guy whose nose his just broke? And the one whose arm he's twisting back while the bodyguard slams a fist into his gut? They deserve it.
He bursts through the door at the end of the hall, despite the bodyguards' insistence that he wait, and he's greeted with the sight of a most disheveled Eichi, the blonde looking weak and malnourished and beaten to the point that even Wataru's heart aches for the monster he sees in the chair. Other Tenshouin flunkies are elsewhere in the building, neutralizing everyone (he suspects there will be corpses), and Wataru is now left alone. He could call out for help. He could get someone stronger in here. He could walk away, he thinks, but knows he won't.
Striding forward, he checks Eichi's pulse, and in that moment he feels something like electricity shoot up his arm as the most vivid image of Eichi in brightly colored robes comes into his consciousness. As if shocked, he draws his hand back. But Eichi is alive, even if unconscious. That's all he needs to know.
His rope tying skills are superb, so his untying skills leave nothing to be desired, and he has Eichi untied and propped up against the wall before the guards finish their work. It's surreal, knowing he may have just saved the life of his probable tormentor. All he can bring himself to do right now is sit here and stare at that pale hair, that battered face. Eichi almost looks human, like this. Wataru had been convinced he was more devil or demon than anything else.]
[Wataru touches him, and it's like the black void that he'd been swallowed by retreats a bit. There are colors, instead. His own robes, like royalty, and a beautiful man kneeling before him with a sword. He remembers the light of the moon, shining brightly down on the both of them, and the look in that man's— in Wataru's eyes.
It's something of a shock, even barely conscious, and he sucks in a startled breath as he's untied. Now, propped up against the wall, his shirt askew and missing buttons and just falling to the side enough to hint at something like a scar on his chest, to one side. But his eyes open, bleary and tired, and he sees Wataru again.
This time, it isn't a dream, but for the briefest moment, he swears his heart swells.
And then it tightens again, cold and afraid, bitter and jealous, lonely and angry all at once. Even still... he can recognize the situation immediately. He was saved? That bothers him too, he thinks as he blinks slowly. He couldn't do a thing himself. He's indebted to someone now. Someone that he's being trying to stamp out, to figure out these feelings for... Someone so much higher than him, to the point that it's unfair. To the point that putting the two of them in the same room like this must be God laughing at Eichi.
He's too tired for any of his wicked smiles and twisted commentary, though. He's barely alive, confused by the touch, and breathing shallowly, distracted by that hair, as lovely as a starry river.]
Hibiki-kun...?
[Faintly, he speaks, and he sounds so weak that he hates it. His gut twists, and he tries to sit up straighter, wincing at the attempt. There's so much commotion going on in the other rooms, he can hear it, but his ears are ringing. It's muffled.]
[Wataru looks Eichi over with a careful gaze, checking for any obvious severe injuries. His eyes pause on the mark on Eichi's chest, and his world falls away for a moment, so much so that he can only faintly hear the sound of his name on those treacherous lips. It's the same mark Wataru has had on his chest for years. And he knows what that means.
Eichi doesn't have to know about it, though. In fact, it's better that way. They're too incompatible for even fate to intervene, he thinks, and he rearranges Eichi's shirt to cover the mark.]
Yes, it's me. I've led your guards here, so they'll come retrieve you any minute now.
[He bites at his lower lip, considering. If Eichi wanted to, he could ruin Wataru with this, he realizes. All it would take was one convincing enough argument to make people believe Wataru set this up to play hero. And for the very few people in the know, that he did it as revenge. Wataru, of course, would never do something so petty and dangerous, but...]
I had nothing to do with this. I just found a note and followed the clues.
[Eichi has the same thought, as his shirt is fixed and he feels nothing but shame wash over him. Wataru is... perfect, it seems. Talented, beautiful, blessed. He's effortlessly perfect, and still he works, achieves things even higher, leaves Eichi trailing behind. That's how he feels. It's a harsh reminder of how pathetic he is himself. Of how much he's hated, even by God.
It's not that he wants Wataru to suffer, exactly. It's that he wants to see that he can struggle, too. That he also can have hardships that are difficult to overcome. He wants to feel that he can step ahead of him, no matter the cost... Even if he has to ignore a sickening twist in his chest every time he does.
As much as he tries to shove it away, he admires this man more than anyone else. He's an inspiration as much as he is a source of frustration, a horrible reminder.]
Why?
[The same thought crossed his mind, that's true, but he brushes it aside instantly. None of his acts are ever meant to push Wataru away entirely. Never meant to swallow him completely and impossibly like his influential family would. Besides, right now, he's in debt to him... He can't possibly ignore that. Sparing him may be like repaying it, but he has to know first.
Daringly, his pale fingers reach to try and touch at Wataru, wherever is closest enough.]
My face is bruised, and so is my neck. I have marks from where I've fallen all over my body... It would be easy to be rid of me finally. My body is so close to it now... And even before that, to even come here... Why?
When I had vanished and left only those with obligations to me searching, those without any real care, why did you go out of your way to help someone like me? I've caused you quite a bit of trouble, you know.
[The sincere truth is that he felt a compulsion to check Eichi's locker that day. He didn't know what brought it on. A curiosity that he couldn't shake off. But he won't say that. Eichi doesn't need to ever know how the pieces are falling together. Wataru will be far happier if he merely survives this year and moves on with life, far away from Eichi.
Then Eichi's fingers brush his hair, then his chin, and he sees nothing of the broken young man that should be there, but rather a regal lord, done up in myriad colors, resplendent before Wataru, who feels... awestruck. Elated. Home.
Eichi feels like home.
He shakes that thought off, and he's back to the moment, frowning and pulling the half bruised hand away from his skin.]
Aren't you lucky I'm more of a detective than usual this week? You'll recover and come back to class in no time, and people will be overjoyed to see you return! Keep that in mind. Forgive us for taking so long to arrive~!
[He addresses... nothing. Not Eichi's question, not his messed up state, not the implication that Wataru could kill him right now and never bear his torment again.]
[Nothing. It stings... but at the same time, Eichi isn't blind. He's not being killed, or even left to die. Wataru could have been blameless, innocent, separated, and yet he put himself into danger like this? Why? His hand is pulled away and he stares at where they touch, wondering if he's just imagining that the warmth is nice because it's been three days without anyone else.
How infuriating. Is it that he's sounding too pathetic? Is he pitying him, and that's all? Then he'll have to be harsher. To keep up his image, to become the "villain" behind the scenes, doing a "hero's" job.]
You must have debated leaving me, then. [It only makes sense. There's no anger behind that comment.]
So this is an attempt to gain back face? Saving the heir to the Tenshouin family, even a fool can become a hero. You should enjoy that fame while you can... Hibiki-kun.
In these changing times, everyone can be hurt so easily. [A threat, to push, to see what he does next, and even in an empty room, he makes himself sound so vague and innocent about it. His hand pulls back the rest of the way and drops against his own chest as he struggles to focus on breathing.]
[Emotions that would resemble fear and rage in anyone else stir up in Wataru, but he bites them back with practiced ease. Is Eichi really trying to make this look selfish? Why is he like this? What can Wataru even say? The truth? Eichi will only twist it. Another dodge? More twisting. A lie? He'll see through it and use it as a weapon.
Wataru is trapped, even though he's the rescuer, the "hero". This game Eichi always plays will be cruel to the last. God, how he can't wait to be rid of him after graduation.]
I was in the right place at the right time! I'm fortune's fool, even now, and no one else's! Not even yours, Eichi Tenshouin. You fell me again and again, but I get back up.
[Bitterness slips out, though he tries to check it.]
If you want me dead, then be done with it. It's just us, and your personal guards. You could have them kill me, couldn't you~? Wouldn't that be right up your alley? And then you never have to suffer seeing my face again. My face, my very visage you abhor so much!
[He stands.]
Even you can be hurt, you know~. And that's what makes you interesting.
[He turns his face toward the open door.]
He's in here! I found him! He's hurt, come quickly!
[It's a worse hit than any of the physical ones he's taken over the past few days. He's too weak to stand, to do much more than sit here where he was put, fingers curling into his lap. But he stares hard at Wataru, listens to those words, and... admits them to himself.
Even he can be hurt. Wataru will come back again and again... That's right. No matter how he might be able to pass him even for a second, would it ever really last? He had to try for it. Even if he was ending up more hated by the day, by the people he admired the most, they were inspirations. A meaning for life...
A life that didn't necessarily have to continue. But he's glad, all the same, to be able to have another chance to get to his goals.]
Mm. At the very least, you should be rewarded for your efforts.
[There are people rushing this way, more shouts, more noises.]
So then, allow me to reveal something to you, Wataru Hibiki-kun. [He lifts his chin, and despite looking inches from death, his eyes have an intense life to them. Bright, sharp, narrowed and focused. Like gems, but hard enough to be carved into knives. Something that would unsettle Wataru, then. Make him question everything.
Why not the truth?]
You see, I don't hate you at all.
[No matter how much he hates about this situation... It's never been that he hates Wataru. That much is true.
He just hates that he can't be like him, too. Something along those lines... Men are already rushing into the room, though, expressing shock at Eichi's condition, shoving past Wataru to get to him, helping him to his feed, calling out commands. Eichi keeps his gaze on Wataru for another few seconds before he turns and speaks to one of the guards, expressing that he was too tired to speak about what happened right now.
He's being ushered out of the room, and at least one servant stops by Wataru long enough to explain that he better get going on his own before he's dragged into things too much more. At the same time, Eichi and another servant seem to discuss Wataru, glancing his way...
But after something Eichi says quietly, the servant stares hard at Wataru and then looks back away, completely disregarding him. It seems that he doesn't intend to have them kill him, or even to drag him into this as a culprit. He's spared.]
[Even Wataru has the ability to pierce a soul every once in a while. He just... doesn't. He prefers being kind, being generous, being loved and loving. Even now, hearing all of this, he wonders why Eichi of all people wants to see him suffer, and takes such things from him with obvious ease.
His words strike Wataru more than the magician lets on, smiling broadly for a moment, then bowing theatrically as Eichi's servants come to take him away. But his heart is pounding, the blood rushing to his ears. Eichi doesn't hate him? It shakes him a bit, just as Eichi intended, and he knows this means worse for him than hatred. Hating someone, you might stop when they reach their lowest. You might not bother with them after a while. But being interested, or invested? It's practically a life sentence.
And Wataru, unbeknownst to all, is reaching the end of his tolerance. His deductions saving Eichi was almost a total coincidence. He had no motive, no reason beyond altruism that he would extend to anyone. This is a cruel twist of fate, and as Eichi perhaps intended, it's enough to make him question everything.
So he watches them leave, and knows he ought to leave, too, but instead takes his time combing through the building, slowly trying to find meaning and reason in he act of freeing his tormentor. He should be the bigger person, shouldn't he? Let Eichi have what he wants. Let him win. Roll over and... what? What does he expect?
The frustration lasts for days, slowly burning through Wataru, distracting him at rehearsal and driving him out of the classroom. He spends his time in seclusion, reading, watching the odd movie, everything to avoid Eichi. And then Eichi returns.
The day Eichi returns, Wataru finds himself on the rooftop of the school, having climbed past the fence and perched himself on the edge, legs dangling out dangerously. He's well aware of the length of the fall, but he can see the ocean from here, and his sense of balance is impeccable. Still, a small crowd gathers on the ground below him during lunch, a few of them occasionally taking photos as though encouraging him to give them a show.
He speaks aloud to no one in particular, thinking himself alone.]
Not today, I think... I'm sure I have something to live for. I wonder... the next season of that show I like? My lifelong dream of performing in Hamlet? Perhaps the dinner I was promised for tonight, cream stew and carrots...
[His words sound immediately after Wataru's wandering thoughts spoken aloud, just barely delayed enough to not be an interruption. The blonde looks considerably better than he did before, with all of the medical care he'd received, but he still doesn't look in the best shape. All of this running around and making things right, the torment on others, everything— it's all to achieve goals he views as important. To not give up. But it's also draining him of his life.
But this? He steps out onto the roof just a step or two.]
I want to believe that you're not the type to consider escapes like this, Hibiki-kun. If you were, I'd have to reconsider my view of you. [A view he still hasn't properly expressed. One he hasn't fully understood, really.
He stops where he is, since he doesn't want to let the crowd below see him up here. If they did, rumors would spread, so the fact that he's here at all— it says a lot. His arms fold over his chest.]
Not just that, but those thoughts you've spoken aloud are also something I have a problem with. You have much more on your mind than those things, don't you? You should, at least. A man of your talent wasting away without direction is something that brings tears to my eyes.
[Eichi's presence really would cause quite the stir, so Wataru politely doesn't turn his head back as he addresses him in return.]
I may be, or I may not be. It's not your concern, is it? Oh, but I've forgotten! You made me your concern, didn't you? Because you don't hate me!
[He carefully gets up and stands on the edge, back pressed against the fencing.]
Is it so hard to believe that a person like me would be so mundane, at the end of the day? I spend my weekends in solitude, you know! I prefer films to going out. Usually I have tea with the grandmas down the street once or twice a week, when I don't have rehearsals. The acting course thinks I'm in high demand, so it keeps me quite busy.
[He sways a bit, fingers twisting in the fencing, looking up to the sky. No, he's not really thinking of falling or jumping or anything of the sort. But he certainly wishes he could fly.]
Then again, your concerns aren't my concerns at all, and I'm not concerned with them in the least! What cause do I have to try to please you, when you lack the fundamental quality of Amazing?
[Wataru's words are like knives, and he refuses to show that at all. He's been exceptionally vicious, of course, to reach his goals... and he's manipulated, done all that he could to craft his image to the public in one way, and he must seem like a demon to those who can see it. So not only does he have to sit through the pain of people pelting Wataru with insults and cruel words, but he has to endure his most admired person completely hating him.
It's enough that he feels they should be on opposite sides of the fence, here. In a way, they might be. Wataru isn't planning to jump. Eichi is throwing his life away with every action, prepared to die at the end like a tragic hero.
He dares another step forward, smiling sickeningly sweet, none of his insecure feelings on his face.]
A God among men can never be just a man, Hibiki-kun. No matter how you may try to live your life normal and mundane, it can never be so. You and I both know that much. [He does everything too well. He can either be loved... or hated. There's no in between. And similarly, it can switch so immediately.]
You must hate me by now, so it's not that I expect you to please me. Rather, I wonder why you haven't acted out on it a little more... It's not as hopeless as anyone might think. I could be flipped over and ruined. I've made mistakes that you must have been aware of, and yet those opportunities were left alone.
I've been wondering something since you saved me, you know? Though there's a gap so large between us I still haven't been able to cross, I feel drawn to you. This is a powerful feeling that goes beyond words. Fated rivals, enemies, lovers, those figures spoken of in tales and stories world wide... It's the scale of that, nothing so normal, so can this sort of thing truly be one way?
[Yes, he calls him by his given name, with all the vitriol he can muster, and all the love he has in his heart for humanity at the same time. He can tell, somehow, that Eichi is calling Wataru the God, and not himself. That he's so elevated that he's something Eichi reaches toward and falls short of. He deduces this from those elaborate words, from obfuscating filler.]
Don't you know? You're exactly my type of person, with one great flaw that drives a wedge between us. I'd love to have fun with you! I'd like to feel your hand in mine. The wind blowing past us now even carries the scent of your cologne to me, and it's familiar. Brilliant. Something that makes me nostalgic. Yet there are people like you, who hold on too tightly, then strangle the very neck you wanted to embrace.
I haven't hurt you because I don't have a real reason. My instinct says I should vault right over this fence and throw you from this ledge instead, but where's the fun in that? What's the use? It makes no one happy, save me, and even then I would wonder if I'd done the right thing. Have you ever met someone so self-sacrificing?
[He knows where he stands in the world. Lonely, atop a pedestal that's been chipped away at. He is nothing, yet he is everything. No one can touch him, but no one will save him. Alone, despairing, he turns inward and inward, over and over, when the thing he wants most is to reach out and grasp an offered hand. But no one is there. If he leapt, people would take pictures, rather than try to help. That's what his life has become: a novelty.]
There's one thing you understand about me perfectly, isn't there? Do you know what that is?
[Wataru speaks his name, and he feels his heart stop. Spoken like that, but still spoken, and he doesn't know how it can affect him so much, but it does. He thinks he'd be happy to hear his name spoken like that as the last thing he hears. It all fits into this mindset... This self-destructive mindset.]
W-what? [But he's stunned, too, by what Wataru is trying to say. It's rare that they're able to speak like this, and so he doesn't know what to make of it. He doesn't understand Wataru talking about hand holding and cologne, and in holding his breath, his cheeks turn a little pink for it. He's glad that Wataru isn't looking back at him.]
I've given you reason for just that, haven't I? It's not only you who would be happy. Perhaps... some people might even be freed.
[Keito.
But he pauses, considers those last words of Wataru's and drops the rest of his thoughts, his arguing that he should be thrown, the background implications of do it, do it!]
...One thing that I understand? I may have a few ideas... but I'd rather hear you simply confirm it yourself. What is it?
[He laughs, short but clear, full of the joy of liberating his deepest, darkest secret. Who else could he admit that to, but someone just as miserable as himself?
He sways forward, fingers gripping the fence, the only thing between him and oblivion. The wind picks up, whipping his hair wildly, and he closes his eyes and loosens his grip slightly, precarious. Like flying. If only, if only.]
Couldn't we reach an agreement? I'll give you what it is you so desperately want to take from me, and you'll give me your time. Together, couldn't we find a way for you to learn Amazing? I'd ask you what it is you want, but if it's intangible, or if it's impossible, why not believe that I'll deliver anyway? Haven't I always?
[He swings around so he's facing Eichi now, and begins to work his way up and up, back over the fencing, much to the dismay of the bloodthirsty crowd below. Another day, they shall have his blood. Not today. Today, it's Eichi's.]
What do you think of that? Of this lowest common denominator between us?
[He's been nothing but determination, fiery and intense, from the start, but it's Wataru's words that make him waver. He watches the man he admires loosen his grip slightly, and Eichi outstretches a hand like he means to move forward— but just as soon, he's hearing those shocking words and watching him climb the fence.
I... What are you suggesting, exactly? [He was so blunt, and still Eichi seems confused by it.] It's a lonely place, on top of the world, so of course I'd have to agree with that. It's not surprising that you might be lonely, and I've made myself lonely like this, as well...
But it's what's necessary, isn't it? To change things, to make a difference. I...
[He lifts a hand over his chest, blinking a few times as his next sentence wavers and trails off. He felt something strange just now, a warmth, a familiarity like those scenes from the night of the rescue. It's dizzying.]
I have to wonder what sort of agreement you must mean. To you, my time must be worth nothing. To me... there was never a chance that you wouldn't deliver what I hoped for.
[Reaching the top of the fence, he drops down on Eichi's side, gracefully landing in a crouch. With a grin up at the blonde, and trying to steady his own nerves from the self-inflicted brush with eternity, he rocks back onto his backside and sits, leaning against the fence.]
I don't think you really want to be alone. I think you want someone who understands you to reach out a hand and tell you it's fine. That you've done well, and you can rest. That everything you've done, for every unselfish reason, makes sense.
[He shrugs, eyes fixed on Eichi.]
But I don't like lying about that kind of thing, so I won't. I'll simply tell you that you're doing things in a way that's going to be worse for you than for anyone else. Don't become like me, you silly man. Lift yourself up and surround yourself with love while you still can. Before someone closes every door save the one that leads to them.
[He doesn't want to be here, in this place, in this time, in this way. He wants to love freely, live loudly and brightly.
But there's only one path open to him now.
Standing, he brushes off his trousers and dusts his hands as well, then offers a hand, palm up, to the Emperor before him.]
I won't concede defeat. Instead, I'll ask to be your jester.
[ Frustration and anger sparks at Wataru’s correct analysis of Eichi’s desires. To have someone who understands, who’s there... He hates that it’s pointed out. He hates that it’s a clear weakness. That’s what it is, isn’t it? That’s what he’s learned about this cruel world: feelings like that are most certainly a weakness.
Wataru’s hand looks so soft, so tempting, and his fingers twitch at his side before he lifts his own palm. ]
Do you really believe that someone like me could be loved?
[ His hand stretches forward, eyes set firm on taking Wataru’s— but he stops short. The desire is so strong, his own desire, but that’s why he wants to fight it. Is this what Wataru wants? Is this some sort of elaborate set up? He doesn’t understand how he could give up now. Is this really it? Did he really successfully point Wataru straight at him? But... ]
Only a fool would, right?
[ His fingers stretch to open his palm, but he doesn’t grab at Wataru yet. He’s lost in thought. ]
[His voice drops low, and Wataru, uncaring for Eichi's hesitation, takes matters up himself. He seizes Eichi's hand, and the contact sends a warmth through him like the rays of the spring sun. He looks at Eichi, really looks at him, and sees so many things. Not a fearful, broken boy in a school uniform, but a powerful political figure, a daimyo, a man of little consequence, all these mantles but with one common thread. He's holding Wataru's hand. Gently sometimes, passionately at others, first meetings, final partings, all in this grasp.
He can't breathe. He's too thrilled, but he's also terrified to see his suspicions confirmed. He could never have escaped Eichi's talons because he was never meant to. What did he do wrong in a previous life, that his eternal love would damage him so? That they would both hurt so much, for so long... Even Eichi, in all his cruelty, deserves better than the twisted claws of fate sinking in.
His voice is hardly above a whisper.]
Eichi. You see it, don't you? I won't ask you to believe it, but the truth is there. I've known you for lifetimes before this one, long and short. And in this one, once again, you have the power to choose.
[He releases Eichi's hand slowly, lowering his own to his side, then steps past the blonde to head back into the school. If Eichi thinks fast enough, he might even be able to answer now.
Will they both be fortune's fools? Wataru is resigned to his fate.]
[It's electric. Wataru grasps his hand before he can even process what's happening, and Eichi gasps audibly at the powerful sensation that he's not ready for. Memories, spilling into him, just barely the tip of an iceberg. But those eyes, the ones he's meeting now with his own wide ones, were always the same. They were always the most beautiful things.
His hand is released and words are being spoken before he can even register it. Slowly, he takes in a breath, and his free hand lifts to his chest to try and regulate his breathing after that. What? It was... He'd never listened deeply to any of Keito's rambling about reincarnation, but this was—]
Wataru!
[He calls out the name before his mind can even catch up. Eichi has turned, reaching to brush delicate fingertips at the edge of Wataru's fingers, not catching them so much as hinting at it, grazing by. But his eyes are wide and he exhales shakily.
When he realizes that he's called him something like that without thought, the hand from his chest lifts to cover his lips, briefly, and he looks startled. But slowly, that hand drops a little lower, and he dares a step forward again.]
Just now... that powerful feeling was something that we shared? This isn't a trick. Emotions can't be forced on someone, even if I can't understand them... but this one is quite clear.
"Stay by my side, whatever it takes." I'll continue to close the distance between us if I have to, but if you becoming my "jester" means that you'll stay there without that, then... Please. Hibiki-kun.
[He hears his name, and he knows. He's been captured by Eichi, captivated somehow, not through desperate actions but through a moment of understanding. Eichi finally met Wataru on his terms, and he chases this fleeting happiness he's so missed for a few moments, basking in it as Eichi soliloquizes behind him.
That brush of fingers, soft, gentle, and he breathes Eichi in like the sea breeze, like something welcome and life-giving. The opposite of their previous interactions. Wataru's own breathing steadies, and the tension he's been holding in slowly, slowly melts away. Eichi is... powerless, now. He can't hurt him anymore. Even if Wataru were to walk away now, this would be a flawless victory.
If there's anything Wataru wants to do more than anyone, it's love. To love others, to love his craft, to love himself. It's the only thing that can neutralize Eichi's aggression and render him incapable of forward motion. That's all Wataru needs to do. He needs to make the blonde stop, think, and most importantly feel.]
I believe what we just felt was the truth. Take some time to search yourself for the answer you seek in it, as to what it is, as to what it entails. What you'll have to give up to attain it.
[He turns back to Eichi with a shrug, then a usual theatrical bow.]
Meet me in the third practice room, two days from today. Lunchtime. Come prepared to bare your soul. In turn, I'll give you what you want.
[He straightens.]
The inimitable, unstoppable, invincible, inscrutable: your Wataru Hibiki.
Why does it seem as though you're so comfortable with this knowledge, I wonder...
[He recognizes it in a way Eichi can't grasp, in other words, and it troubles him a little. Is this a trap after all? Is he falling into something he shouldn't? But his heart aches at the thought of pulling back. He's long learned to shut others out and press past that feeling, but can he continue to do that with Wataru?
He watches him and his bow, his hair blowing gently in the wind on the rooftop.]
So long as nothing stops me, then I'll meet you there. [He wants to make it clear he won't be ditching, but this feels like such a heavy thing. There's something tight in his chest telling him he needs to make sure he doesn't lose this. That it's not stolen away.]
Unlike you, Eichi, I have nothing to lose anymore. I can even call you by your name just this easily, without a single care in the world. I'm already dead. But will the great Emperor of Yumenosaki revive me? Ah, this modern-day Frankenstein tale intrigues me!
[And he turns, hair billowing behind him, and enters the school once more. He feels his body start to relax again, his heart rate to slow, his breathing to even out. He was almost terrified of Eichi, terrified of the truth and of their connection, perhaps even their inevitability. Now, he's at some strange kind of peace. He signs away his life tomorrow, in exchange for his happiness, and he hopes that like Beauty and the Beast, he'll find the sweetness within the savagery.
He'll act normal for the rest of the day, go about his lonely business, and bide his time until they meet two days hence.
Two days later, Wataru dresses in his nicest rehearsal warmups, and heads to the third practice room just before the end of their last pre-lunch class period. He wants to feel the oppressive, crushing weight of fear. He wants to revel in uncertainty as he waits for Eichi. In part, he wants to prove that this isn't really fate, and he has an overactive imagination. Magic like this doesn't and can't exist. A bond between two people, impossible to sever, through life and death? Impossible. But he saw the mark on Eichi's chest, and he's seen a representation of Eichi in his dreams for so long that this does feel wholly inevitable.
Still, he wrings his hands a bit, before deciding to stretch and do some yoga as he awaits Eichi.]
[That meeting was Wataru's win, in the end. It left Eichi anxious, trying to think through it. Keito would normally be someone that he'd talk to about this, but lately even he had turned his back on Eichi, leaving him completely alone. There was no one to ask, nothing to do. He could only stew on it himself, and it left him restless, unable to sleep. Exhausted, health dipping. He had to increase his medication, and for some reason, the mark on his chest had been aching. He didn't understand anything.
But he arrives, in his normal Yumenosaki uniform, since he's not the sort of person who can attend practices normally, anyway. Shutting the door behind him to make sure Wataru knows he's there, he stares at his stretching form and finds himself feeling warm, wanting to reach out and touch him, to hold him tight and never let go. Something tells him that it's been lifetimes of this longing. The faint memories, the images when he tried to sleep...
He swallows hard and steps forward. As a defense mechanism, he's still holding himself tall, smiling calmly, but... As Wataru had said, he'd prepared to bare his soul. He's prepared for anything.
He did think about it. It angers him that fate may be controlling him, or that he may be playing into someone's palm... but if it's anyone's palm he'd like to be played into, it's Wataru's. He can no longer deny that.]
Um... Hibiki-kun? [And he shows such unusual nervousness and hesitation when it comes to Wataru, as well. Wataru and no one else.]
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teaism2019-05-21 10:36 pm
❧ so I try to talk refined for fear that you find out how I'm imagining you
It's a fact Eichi has known since he's been capable of coming up with his own thoughts. Death surrounded him, expectations weighed him down, and in order to survive, he had to be willing to throw his life way and go all out. That had always been the case. No one else had understood. Not even his childhood best friend who'd finally been driven to abandon him. Not the comrades he'd worked so hard to surround himself, hand-picking and driving one by one to quitting. But he knew that in order to make his life worth something, in order to be anything worth more than a speck of dirt, this is the path he had to take.
So, it's something like karma that must have him in this position now, right? Karma... He actually doesn't believe in it at all. There's no scale measuring how much one person deserves anything, how one's actions might affect them later. There's only the matter of covering your tracks correctly or not. Of having control or not. And here, arms bound to the back of the chair he sat in, he had no power. He had his name, a use, but no control of it.
He'd been missing for three days now, and rumors were spreading that he might already be dead. His parents were spitting out money as ransom, and it was honestly impressive that he hadn't been recovered. It's not the first time this sort of thing has been attempted, but it's the first time the kidnappers haven't been immediately outed and arrested. The Tenshouin zaibatsu had such influence over Japan and the world that most didn't dare try to mess with something so serious, not after the examples that were made. But somehow, this group had managed to keep themselves mysterious.
So mysterious that even Eichi isn't sure why he's being treated so harshly. Some dull question is thrown at him again, asking if he's come to any conclusion about who they might be, if he even has a feeling, but Eichi's reply is simple.]
No; I have no idea who any of you people are.
[His answer is met with rage. A fist meets the side of his face again, and he blacks out too quickly. But as the chair falls to its side and he goes limp, his last thought is incredibly clear: is this how I'm finally going to die?
And, after that, an image.
A beautiful, talented man, like someone touched by the Gods. An angel brought to life. Someone too perfect to exist, moving effortlessly and accidentally creating impressive things in everything that he does. Someone completely, unbearably, unfairly... amazing. And Eichi hasn't moved close enough to him yet. He can't die until that. At the very least, he wants to reach him, to surpass him, to wind his thin and sickly fingers around that delicate looking neck and squeeze, to watch the life drain from such perfection. To feel the rush. But his fingertips can't even brush at the ends of that long, gorgeous hair just yet. He's not far enough. He can't die, he can't...
He's been thinking about Wataru (about Hibiki-kun) a lot these past few days, though he wishes he wouldn't. A target at the top of a large pyramid, someone he's caused absolute misery for and hasn't relented, a worthwhile rival who's entirely out of his league, but still, Eichi doesn't want to consider his feelings on the matter. Here, in a kidnapping that has nothing to do with their voices, their talents, or anything, why is he coming up? Why is it that no matter the situation, his face appears? That he can hear his voice repeating any calm and collected retort, scathing as they may be, no matter where he is?
Eichi doesn't know that Wataru is the only one who happens to have the clues to unlock just who this group is. He doesn't know that he's managed to find the location. Why should he? The number of things he's done to him... Just like everyone else, he must hate Eichi for it. Eichi knows that. And so, he expects to be left here to die.]
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It'd be a nice change from the norm. It started at the beginning of second year, for reasons he still doesn't fully understand. Someone cut a chunk of his hair during class. Someone moved his doves and he couldn't find them for four panicked hours. His hot air balloon was grounded by the authorities.
It escalated. Empty seats for theater performances became unruly crowds that booed him, theater costumes were destroyed, and finally all but one of his club members left for fear of ruining their reputations and getting hurt.
The theater club destroyed, the assailant moved on to Wataru's family, prank calls at odd hours that kept his aging parents awake, rumors spread that jeopardized their jobs. All he could do was apologize. The culprit wasn't clear for the longest time. But he had a suspicion. He would never be able to fully confirm that Eichi Tenshouin was the world's most aggressive, insidious bully, but all signs he could find pointed to it. As his dearest friends were socially picked off one by one, he saw his own end in sight.
Then Eichi stopped coming to class. That wasn't so unusual, really, as he was sickly and had many issues to deal with. No, something was different about this. He saw a note in Eichi's shoe locker in passing the second day, and curiosity got the better of him. The ransom note read all too familiar for the crime drama addict, and in a matter of hours he had pieced together in idle time his hypothesis for who had Eichi and where he was.
He took it to the Tenshouin family, who largely thought he was a liar, and probably himself involved. Eichi's usual bodyguards would hear none of it at first, no matter how much Wataru begged and lowered his head. The boy was a classmate, nothing more, a threat, a terrible person, but Wataru was sure that if they didn't find him, he would die. And Wataru swore long ago to harm no one as he went through life, unless they really, really deserved it.
The guy whose nose his just broke? And the one whose arm he's twisting back while the bodyguard slams a fist into his gut? They deserve it.
He bursts through the door at the end of the hall, despite the bodyguards' insistence that he wait, and he's greeted with the sight of a most disheveled Eichi, the blonde looking weak and malnourished and beaten to the point that even Wataru's heart aches for the monster he sees in the chair. Other Tenshouin flunkies are elsewhere in the building, neutralizing everyone (he suspects there will be corpses), and Wataru is now left alone. He could call out for help. He could get someone stronger in here. He could walk away, he thinks, but knows he won't.
Striding forward, he checks Eichi's pulse, and in that moment he feels something like electricity shoot up his arm as the most vivid image of Eichi in brightly colored robes comes into his consciousness. As if shocked, he draws his hand back. But Eichi is alive, even if unconscious. That's all he needs to know.
His rope tying skills are superb, so his untying skills leave nothing to be desired, and he has Eichi untied and propped up against the wall before the guards finish their work. It's surreal, knowing he may have just saved the life of his probable tormentor. All he can bring himself to do right now is sit here and stare at that pale hair, that battered face. Eichi almost looks human, like this. Wataru had been convinced he was more devil or demon than anything else.]
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It's something of a shock, even barely conscious, and he sucks in a startled breath as he's untied. Now, propped up against the wall, his shirt askew and missing buttons and just falling to the side enough to hint at something like a scar on his chest, to one side. But his eyes open, bleary and tired, and he sees Wataru again.
This time, it isn't a dream, but for the briefest moment, he swears his heart swells.
And then it tightens again, cold and afraid, bitter and jealous, lonely and angry all at once. Even still... he can recognize the situation immediately. He was saved? That bothers him too, he thinks as he blinks slowly. He couldn't do a thing himself. He's indebted to someone now. Someone that he's being trying to stamp out, to figure out these feelings for... Someone so much higher than him, to the point that it's unfair. To the point that putting the two of them in the same room like this must be God laughing at Eichi.
He's too tired for any of his wicked smiles and twisted commentary, though. He's barely alive, confused by the touch, and breathing shallowly, distracted by that hair, as lovely as a starry river.]
Hibiki-kun...?
[Faintly, he speaks, and he sounds so weak that he hates it. His gut twists, and he tries to sit up straighter, wincing at the attempt. There's so much commotion going on in the other rooms, he can hear it, but his ears are ringing. It's muffled.]
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Eichi doesn't have to know about it, though. In fact, it's better that way. They're too incompatible for even fate to intervene, he thinks, and he rearranges Eichi's shirt to cover the mark.]
Yes, it's me. I've led your guards here, so they'll come retrieve you any minute now.
[He bites at his lower lip, considering. If Eichi wanted to, he could ruin Wataru with this, he realizes. All it would take was one convincing enough argument to make people believe Wataru set this up to play hero. And for the very few people in the know, that he did it as revenge. Wataru, of course, would never do something so petty and dangerous, but...]
I had nothing to do with this. I just found a note and followed the clues.
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It's not that he wants Wataru to suffer, exactly. It's that he wants to see that he can struggle, too. That he also can have hardships that are difficult to overcome. He wants to feel that he can step ahead of him, no matter the cost... Even if he has to ignore a sickening twist in his chest every time he does.
As much as he tries to shove it away, he admires this man more than anyone else. He's an inspiration as much as he is a source of frustration, a horrible reminder.]
Why?
[The same thought crossed his mind, that's true, but he brushes it aside instantly. None of his acts are ever meant to push Wataru away entirely. Never meant to swallow him completely and impossibly like his influential family would. Besides, right now, he's in debt to him... He can't possibly ignore that. Sparing him may be like repaying it, but he has to know first.
Daringly, his pale fingers reach to try and touch at Wataru, wherever is closest enough.]
My face is bruised, and so is my neck. I have marks from where I've fallen all over my body... It would be easy to be rid of me finally. My body is so close to it now... And even before that, to even come here... Why?
When I had vanished and left only those with obligations to me searching, those without any real care, why did you go out of your way to help someone like me? I've caused you quite a bit of trouble, you know.
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Then Eichi's fingers brush his hair, then his chin, and he sees nothing of the broken young man that should be there, but rather a regal lord, done up in myriad colors, resplendent before Wataru, who feels... awestruck. Elated. Home.
Eichi feels like home.
He shakes that thought off, and he's back to the moment, frowning and pulling the half bruised hand away from his skin.]
Aren't you lucky I'm more of a detective than usual this week? You'll recover and come back to class in no time, and people will be overjoyed to see you return! Keep that in mind. Forgive us for taking so long to arrive~!
[He addresses... nothing. Not Eichi's question, not his messed up state, not the implication that Wataru could kill him right now and never bear his torment again.]
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How infuriating. Is it that he's sounding too pathetic? Is he pitying him, and that's all? Then he'll have to be harsher. To keep up his image, to become the "villain" behind the scenes, doing a "hero's" job.]
You must have debated leaving me, then. [It only makes sense. There's no anger behind that comment.]
So this is an attempt to gain back face? Saving the heir to the Tenshouin family, even a fool can become a hero. You should enjoy that fame while you can... Hibiki-kun.
In these changing times, everyone can be hurt so easily. [A threat, to push, to see what he does next, and even in an empty room, he makes himself sound so vague and innocent about it. His hand pulls back the rest of the way and drops against his own chest as he struggles to focus on breathing.]
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Wataru is trapped, even though he's the rescuer, the "hero". This game Eichi always plays will be cruel to the last. God, how he can't wait to be rid of him after graduation.]
I was in the right place at the right time! I'm fortune's fool, even now, and no one else's! Not even yours, Eichi Tenshouin. You fell me again and again, but I get back up.
[Bitterness slips out, though he tries to check it.]
If you want me dead, then be done with it. It's just us, and your personal guards. You could have them kill me, couldn't you~? Wouldn't that be right up your alley? And then you never have to suffer seeing my face again. My face, my very visage you abhor so much!
[He stands.]
Even you can be hurt, you know~. And that's what makes you interesting.
[He turns his face toward the open door.]
He's in here! I found him! He's hurt, come quickly!
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Even he can be hurt. Wataru will come back again and again... That's right. No matter how he might be able to pass him even for a second, would it ever really last? He had to try for it. Even if he was ending up more hated by the day, by the people he admired the most, they were inspirations. A meaning for life...
A life that didn't necessarily have to continue. But he's glad, all the same, to be able to have another chance to get to his goals.]
Mm. At the very least, you should be rewarded for your efforts.
[There are people rushing this way, more shouts, more noises.]
So then, allow me to reveal something to you, Wataru Hibiki-kun. [He lifts his chin, and despite looking inches from death, his eyes have an intense life to them. Bright, sharp, narrowed and focused. Like gems, but hard enough to be carved into knives. Something that would unsettle Wataru, then. Make him question everything.
Why not the truth?]
You see, I don't hate you at all.
[No matter how much he hates about this situation... It's never been that he hates Wataru. That much is true.
He just hates that he can't be like him, too. Something along those lines... Men are already rushing into the room, though, expressing shock at Eichi's condition, shoving past Wataru to get to him, helping him to his feed, calling out commands. Eichi keeps his gaze on Wataru for another few seconds before he turns and speaks to one of the guards, expressing that he was too tired to speak about what happened right now.
He's being ushered out of the room, and at least one servant stops by Wataru long enough to explain that he better get going on his own before he's dragged into things too much more. At the same time, Eichi and another servant seem to discuss Wataru, glancing his way...
But after something Eichi says quietly, the servant stares hard at Wataru and then looks back away, completely disregarding him. It seems that he doesn't intend to have them kill him, or even to drag him into this as a culprit. He's spared.]
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His words strike Wataru more than the magician lets on, smiling broadly for a moment, then bowing theatrically as Eichi's servants come to take him away. But his heart is pounding, the blood rushing to his ears. Eichi doesn't hate him? It shakes him a bit, just as Eichi intended, and he knows this means worse for him than hatred. Hating someone, you might stop when they reach their lowest. You might not bother with them after a while. But being interested, or invested? It's practically a life sentence.
And Wataru, unbeknownst to all, is reaching the end of his tolerance. His deductions saving Eichi was almost a total coincidence. He had no motive, no reason beyond altruism that he would extend to anyone. This is a cruel twist of fate, and as Eichi perhaps intended, it's enough to make him question everything.
So he watches them leave, and knows he ought to leave, too, but instead takes his time combing through the building, slowly trying to find meaning and reason in he act of freeing his tormentor. He should be the bigger person, shouldn't he? Let Eichi have what he wants. Let him win. Roll over and... what? What does he expect?
The frustration lasts for days, slowly burning through Wataru, distracting him at rehearsal and driving him out of the classroom. He spends his time in seclusion, reading, watching the odd movie, everything to avoid Eichi. And then Eichi returns.
The day Eichi returns, Wataru finds himself on the rooftop of the school, having climbed past the fence and perched himself on the edge, legs dangling out dangerously. He's well aware of the length of the fall, but he can see the ocean from here, and his sense of balance is impeccable. Still, a small crowd gathers on the ground below him during lunch, a few of them occasionally taking photos as though encouraging him to give them a show.
He speaks aloud to no one in particular, thinking himself alone.]
Not today, I think... I'm sure I have something to live for. I wonder... the next season of that show I like? My lifelong dream of performing in Hamlet? Perhaps the dinner I was promised for tonight, cream stew and carrots...
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[His words sound immediately after Wataru's wandering thoughts spoken aloud, just barely delayed enough to not be an interruption. The blonde looks considerably better than he did before, with all of the medical care he'd received, but he still doesn't look in the best shape. All of this running around and making things right, the torment on others, everything— it's all to achieve goals he views as important. To not give up. But it's also draining him of his life.
But this? He steps out onto the roof just a step or two.]
I want to believe that you're not the type to consider escapes like this, Hibiki-kun. If you were, I'd have to reconsider my view of you. [A view he still hasn't properly expressed. One he hasn't fully understood, really.
He stops where he is, since he doesn't want to let the crowd below see him up here. If they did, rumors would spread, so the fact that he's here at all— it says a lot. His arms fold over his chest.]
Not just that, but those thoughts you've spoken aloud are also something I have a problem with. You have much more on your mind than those things, don't you? You should, at least. A man of your talent wasting away without direction is something that brings tears to my eyes.
You're not truly considering that, are you?
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I may be, or I may not be. It's not your concern, is it? Oh, but I've forgotten! You made me your concern, didn't you? Because you don't hate me!
[He carefully gets up and stands on the edge, back pressed against the fencing.]
Is it so hard to believe that a person like me would be so mundane, at the end of the day? I spend my weekends in solitude, you know! I prefer films to going out. Usually I have tea with the grandmas down the street once or twice a week, when I don't have rehearsals. The acting course thinks I'm in high demand, so it keeps me quite busy.
[He sways a bit, fingers twisting in the fencing, looking up to the sky. No, he's not really thinking of falling or jumping or anything of the sort. But he certainly wishes he could fly.]
Then again, your concerns aren't my concerns at all, and I'm not concerned with them in the least! What cause do I have to try to please you, when you lack the fundamental quality of Amazing?
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It's enough that he feels they should be on opposite sides of the fence, here. In a way, they might be. Wataru isn't planning to jump. Eichi is throwing his life away with every action, prepared to die at the end like a tragic hero.
He dares another step forward, smiling sickeningly sweet, none of his insecure feelings on his face.]
A God among men can never be just a man, Hibiki-kun. No matter how you may try to live your life normal and mundane, it can never be so. You and I both know that much. [He does everything too well. He can either be loved... or hated. There's no in between. And similarly, it can switch so immediately.]
You must hate me by now, so it's not that I expect you to please me. Rather, I wonder why you haven't acted out on it a little more... It's not as hopeless as anyone might think. I could be flipped over and ruined. I've made mistakes that you must have been aware of, and yet those opportunities were left alone.
I've been wondering something since you saved me, you know? Though there's a gap so large between us I still haven't been able to cross, I feel drawn to you. This is a powerful feeling that goes beyond words. Fated rivals, enemies, lovers, those figures spoken of in tales and stories world wide... It's the scale of that, nothing so normal, so can this sort of thing truly be one way?
Are you not having fun, deep down, I wonder?
no subject
[Yes, he calls him by his given name, with all the vitriol he can muster, and all the love he has in his heart for humanity at the same time. He can tell, somehow, that Eichi is calling Wataru the God, and not himself. That he's so elevated that he's something Eichi reaches toward and falls short of. He deduces this from those elaborate words, from obfuscating filler.]
Don't you know? You're exactly my type of person, with one great flaw that drives a wedge between us. I'd love to have fun with you! I'd like to feel your hand in mine. The wind blowing past us now even carries the scent of your cologne to me, and it's familiar. Brilliant. Something that makes me nostalgic. Yet there are people like you, who hold on too tightly, then strangle the very neck you wanted to embrace.
I haven't hurt you because I don't have a real reason. My instinct says I should vault right over this fence and throw you from this ledge instead, but where's the fun in that? What's the use? It makes no one happy, save me, and even then I would wonder if I'd done the right thing. Have you ever met someone so self-sacrificing?
[He knows where he stands in the world. Lonely, atop a pedestal that's been chipped away at. He is nothing, yet he is everything. No one can touch him, but no one will save him. Alone, despairing, he turns inward and inward, over and over, when the thing he wants most is to reach out and grasp an offered hand. But no one is there. If he leapt, people would take pictures, rather than try to help. That's what his life has become: a novelty.]
There's one thing you understand about me perfectly, isn't there? Do you know what that is?
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W-what? [But he's stunned, too, by what Wataru is trying to say. It's rare that they're able to speak like this, and so he doesn't know what to make of it. He doesn't understand Wataru talking about hand holding and cologne, and in holding his breath, his cheeks turn a little pink for it. He's glad that Wataru isn't looking back at him.]
I've given you reason for just that, haven't I? It's not only you who would be happy. Perhaps... some people might even be freed.
[Keito.
But he pauses, considers those last words of Wataru's and drops the rest of his thoughts, his arguing that he should be thrown, the background implications of do it, do it!]
...One thing that I understand? I may have a few ideas... but I'd rather hear you simply confirm it yourself. What is it?
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[He laughs, short but clear, full of the joy of liberating his deepest, darkest secret. Who else could he admit that to, but someone just as miserable as himself?
He sways forward, fingers gripping the fence, the only thing between him and oblivion. The wind picks up, whipping his hair wildly, and he closes his eyes and loosens his grip slightly, precarious. Like flying. If only, if only.]
Couldn't we reach an agreement? I'll give you what it is you so desperately want to take from me, and you'll give me your time. Together, couldn't we find a way for you to learn Amazing? I'd ask you what it is you want, but if it's intangible, or if it's impossible, why not believe that I'll deliver anyway? Haven't I always?
[He swings around so he's facing Eichi now, and begins to work his way up and up, back over the fencing, much to the dismay of the bloodthirsty crowd below. Another day, they shall have his blood. Not today. Today, it's Eichi's.]
What do you think of that? Of this lowest common denominator between us?
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Loneliness. That's true. It's incredibly true, but...?]
I... What are you suggesting, exactly? [He was so blunt, and still Eichi seems confused by it.] It's a lonely place, on top of the world, so of course I'd have to agree with that. It's not surprising that you might be lonely, and I've made myself lonely like this, as well...
But it's what's necessary, isn't it? To change things, to make a difference. I...
[He lifts a hand over his chest, blinking a few times as his next sentence wavers and trails off. He felt something strange just now, a warmth, a familiarity like those scenes from the night of the rescue. It's dizzying.]
I have to wonder what sort of agreement you must mean. To you, my time must be worth nothing. To me... there was never a chance that you wouldn't deliver what I hoped for.
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I don't think you really want to be alone. I think you want someone who understands you to reach out a hand and tell you it's fine. That you've done well, and you can rest. That everything you've done, for every unselfish reason, makes sense.
[He shrugs, eyes fixed on Eichi.]
But I don't like lying about that kind of thing, so I won't. I'll simply tell you that you're doing things in a way that's going to be worse for you than for anyone else. Don't become like me, you silly man. Lift yourself up and surround yourself with love while you still can. Before someone closes every door save the one that leads to them.
[He doesn't want to be here, in this place, in this time, in this way. He wants to love freely, live loudly and brightly.
But there's only one path open to him now.
Standing, he brushes off his trousers and dusts his hands as well, then offers a hand, palm up, to the Emperor before him.]
I won't concede defeat. Instead, I'll ask to be your jester.
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Wataru’s hand looks so soft, so tempting, and his fingers twitch at his side before he lifts his own palm. ]
Do you really believe that someone like me could be loved?
[ His hand stretches forward, eyes set firm on taking Wataru’s— but he stops short. The desire is so strong, his own desire, but that’s why he wants to fight it. Is this what Wataru wants? Is this some sort of elaborate set up? He doesn’t understand how he could give up now. Is this really it? Did he really successfully point Wataru straight at him? But... ]
Only a fool would, right?
[ His fingers stretch to open his palm, but he doesn’t grab at Wataru yet. He’s lost in thought. ]
A jester...
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[His voice drops low, and Wataru, uncaring for Eichi's hesitation, takes matters up himself. He seizes Eichi's hand, and the contact sends a warmth through him like the rays of the spring sun. He looks at Eichi, really looks at him, and sees so many things. Not a fearful, broken boy in a school uniform, but a powerful political figure, a daimyo, a man of little consequence, all these mantles but with one common thread. He's holding Wataru's hand. Gently sometimes, passionately at others, first meetings, final partings, all in this grasp.
He can't breathe. He's too thrilled, but he's also terrified to see his suspicions confirmed. He could never have escaped Eichi's talons because he was never meant to. What did he do wrong in a previous life, that his eternal love would damage him so? That they would both hurt so much, for so long... Even Eichi, in all his cruelty, deserves better than the twisted claws of fate sinking in.
His voice is hardly above a whisper.]
Eichi. You see it, don't you? I won't ask you to believe it, but the truth is there. I've known you for lifetimes before this one, long and short. And in this one, once again, you have the power to choose.
[He releases Eichi's hand slowly, lowering his own to his side, then steps past the blonde to head back into the school. If Eichi thinks fast enough, he might even be able to answer now.
Will they both be fortune's fools? Wataru is resigned to his fate.]
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His hand is released and words are being spoken before he can even register it. Slowly, he takes in a breath, and his free hand lifts to his chest to try and regulate his breathing after that. What? It was... He'd never listened deeply to any of Keito's rambling about reincarnation, but this was—]
Wataru!
[He calls out the name before his mind can even catch up. Eichi has turned, reaching to brush delicate fingertips at the edge of Wataru's fingers, not catching them so much as hinting at it, grazing by. But his eyes are wide and he exhales shakily.
When he realizes that he's called him something like that without thought, the hand from his chest lifts to cover his lips, briefly, and he looks startled. But slowly, that hand drops a little lower, and he dares a step forward again.]
Just now... that powerful feeling was something that we shared? This isn't a trick. Emotions can't be forced on someone, even if I can't understand them... but this one is quite clear.
"Stay by my side, whatever it takes." I'll continue to close the distance between us if I have to, but if you becoming my "jester" means that you'll stay there without that, then... Please. Hibiki-kun.
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That brush of fingers, soft, gentle, and he breathes Eichi in like the sea breeze, like something welcome and life-giving. The opposite of their previous interactions. Wataru's own breathing steadies, and the tension he's been holding in slowly, slowly melts away. Eichi is... powerless, now. He can't hurt him anymore. Even if Wataru were to walk away now, this would be a flawless victory.
If there's anything Wataru wants to do more than anyone, it's love. To love others, to love his craft, to love himself. It's the only thing that can neutralize Eichi's aggression and render him incapable of forward motion. That's all Wataru needs to do. He needs to make the blonde stop, think, and most importantly feel.]
I believe what we just felt was the truth. Take some time to search yourself for the answer you seek in it, as to what it is, as to what it entails. What you'll have to give up to attain it.
[He turns back to Eichi with a shrug, then a usual theatrical bow.]
Meet me in the third practice room, two days from today. Lunchtime. Come prepared to bare your soul. In turn, I'll give you what you want.
[He straightens.]
The inimitable, unstoppable, invincible, inscrutable: your Wataru Hibiki.
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[He recognizes it in a way Eichi can't grasp, in other words, and it troubles him a little. Is this a trap after all? Is he falling into something he shouldn't? But his heart aches at the thought of pulling back. He's long learned to shut others out and press past that feeling, but can he continue to do that with Wataru?
He watches him and his bow, his hair blowing gently in the wind on the rooftop.]
So long as nothing stops me, then I'll meet you there. [He wants to make it clear he won't be ditching, but this feels like such a heavy thing. There's something tight in his chest telling him he needs to make sure he doesn't lose this. That it's not stolen away.]
Until then... Wataru Hibiki-kun. Take care.
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[And he turns, hair billowing behind him, and enters the school once more. He feels his body start to relax again, his heart rate to slow, his breathing to even out. He was almost terrified of Eichi, terrified of the truth and of their connection, perhaps even their inevitability. Now, he's at some strange kind of peace. He signs away his life tomorrow, in exchange for his happiness, and he hopes that like Beauty and the Beast, he'll find the sweetness within the savagery.
He'll act normal for the rest of the day, go about his lonely business, and bide his time until they meet two days hence.
Two days later, Wataru dresses in his nicest rehearsal warmups, and heads to the third practice room just before the end of their last pre-lunch class period. He wants to feel the oppressive, crushing weight of fear. He wants to revel in uncertainty as he waits for Eichi. In part, he wants to prove that this isn't really fate, and he has an overactive imagination. Magic like this doesn't and can't exist. A bond between two people, impossible to sever, through life and death? Impossible. But he saw the mark on Eichi's chest, and he's seen a representation of Eichi in his dreams for so long that this does feel wholly inevitable.
Still, he wrings his hands a bit, before deciding to stretch and do some yoga as he awaits Eichi.]
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But he arrives, in his normal Yumenosaki uniform, since he's not the sort of person who can attend practices normally, anyway. Shutting the door behind him to make sure Wataru knows he's there, he stares at his stretching form and finds himself feeling warm, wanting to reach out and touch him, to hold him tight and never let go. Something tells him that it's been lifetimes of this longing. The faint memories, the images when he tried to sleep...
He swallows hard and steps forward. As a defense mechanism, he's still holding himself tall, smiling calmly, but... As Wataru had said, he'd prepared to bare his soul. He's prepared for anything.
He did think about it. It angers him that fate may be controlling him, or that he may be playing into someone's palm... but if it's anyone's palm he'd like to be played into, it's Wataru's. He can no longer deny that.]
Um... Hibiki-kun? [And he shows such unusual nervousness and hesitation when it comes to Wataru, as well. Wataru and no one else.]
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that tag killed me for nearly 24 hours
sowwy ;;
it was good death
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