[Everything is vague shapes and sensations, none of them pleasant, and all he can do to keep himself from losing hope is to think of Eichi, to know that somehow, somehow Eichi must be able to help. Or he'll die. He'll die thinking of his love, and it's not the worst way to go, knowing how beloved he was. Knowing those men were lying about Eichi not wanting to see him.
There's alternating darkness and faint light, and he's not sure what's going on other than the pain, the endless pain that keeps dulling and coming back. He feels sick, retches, his body tries to empty an already empty stomach, and the ache of hunger strikes him a few of the waking moments, just an idle thought. It's not important. Nothing is important.
There are voices, but he doesn't understand the words, until finally, he's upright, seated against a wall, head down, hair a mess--is it even still intact?--face a mess, body giving up little by little. But he thinks of Eichi, and he manages a small smile.]
Talk? I have... nothing to say. Eichi will come for me... I know he will... Then you'll be sorry...
no subject
There's alternating darkness and faint light, and he's not sure what's going on other than the pain, the endless pain that keeps dulling and coming back. He feels sick, retches, his body tries to empty an already empty stomach, and the ache of hunger strikes him a few of the waking moments, just an idle thought. It's not important. Nothing is important.
There are voices, but he doesn't understand the words, until finally, he's upright, seated against a wall, head down, hair a mess--is it even still intact?--face a mess, body giving up little by little. But he thinks of Eichi, and he manages a small smile.]
Talk? I have... nothing to say. Eichi will come for me... I know he will... Then you'll be sorry...