"Heeey, you've reached Yang! Well, actually, you didn't reach far enough, 'cause I'm not here right now! But don't yang up! Just leave a message on this baby, and I'll get back to you soon enough, okay?"
I want to... tell you. [And he wants her to stay and listen, and he doesn't...want her to go. But these words don't quite make it out. With an exhale, Naoki's head sinks down onto her shoulder.
He can't even ask her to move somewhere inside, maybe somewhere better for her who he woke up right in the middle of the night, because he feels that the moment he lets go he'll lose his nerve. Or that he won't be able to reach out again.]
[ It's all Yang says, without any hesitation or consideration, not even a questioning tone to it. It doesn't even matter that they're still in the entryway and it's at some ungodly hour of the night. Whatever this is about, it's important, and so she'll stay put and hear him out.
Her hands slow, but remain a solid pressure on his back. ]
[If he pauses himself to think about it, he's going to start wondering about whether he should after all, how he should finally say it. He'd been planning to, but he's forgotten all about how he'd thought of doing it. Forget it, plans don't matter now. Naoki's eyes clench shut and fear creeps in over the relief.
His hands loosen from fists, fingers spreading, but they're almost gripping at her back now, curled into fabric.] I dreamed about killing them. Isamu and Chiaki. And I... I did it easily.
[This is terrifying--]
It was different from how it-- how it actually happened. [His fingers grip tighter at Yang's shirt, at her. He should let go. She might not want him to hold on like this. But he can't bring himself to.] They each wanted to fulfill their Reasons, and we fought each other. We fought and I killed them. [A pause, tense, Naoki's back tense and slightly shaking under her hands.] No, maybe it wasn't that different after all. [It was still murder, no matter what it came after.]
[ Yang stays still as she listens - although he'll feel her tense a little at kill, and she'd known whatever it was had to be painful, but there's more to this dream than a stressed subconscious - and then he clarifies. It wasn't that he'd killed his friends in a dream, it was that it had actually happened. Differently, but--
It all makes sense now, in a way that makes her throat and chest ache in painful chorus. Naoki's friends... the ones who refused to acknowledge his humanity, the ones who had tried to make him choose, the ones who hadn't understood even when he'd chased after them...
Had it really come to that? Fighting the people he cared about? Having to kill them to stop them?
The thought is a sickening one, but this is Naoki's reality. And because of that, Yang swallows hard. ]
[She's not trying to wrench away from him yet, even though he felt her tense. Naoki tightens his arms, in a silent plea for her not to move away. He's so afraid she will. If she does, of course he'll let her go, but--
He doesn't want to. This once, he's acting on the thought.]
I couldn't save anybody in that world.
I had to... I saw them die. No matter how hard I fought, I couldn't do anything, I was never in time. [His head moves against her shoulder a little, shaking back and forth.] Each person who had a Reason needed magatsuhi so that they could summon a god, a demonic sponsor to support them. And the best source of that was the other people left.
My teacher, Hijiri, Futomimi-- Hikawa, Isamu and Chiaki sacrificed each of them to get the magatsuhi they needed. I was too late every time. I couldn't do anything for anybody, and then I was the one who killed my friends. [It hurts to draw the breath to speak this, as much as it hurts saying it, and he speaks it in a voice that shakes violently. In a rush like it's been waiting to come out for so long, like these are thoughts he's stewed and stewed and stewed over.] I couldn't even talk them out of anything.
[All of this power, and he still couldn't even manage that much.]
[ Yang's voice is quiet, just above a whisper. The people he'd known, the only ones left... sacrificing or sacrificed, and he blamed himself for not being able to stop it? ]
And all this time, you've carried that with you?
[ Refused to trust, because of what he'd been through. Never spoke about what haunted him, even if it pitched him into a state of desperate panic, and even then, he'd still tried to close himself away from it. Away from the person he'd reached out to... for her sake? ]
[ Yang suddenly moves, not away, but against him, in a burst of strength that could knock a lesser or unprepared person back a few steps. Her arms tighten around him, almost painfully. ]
[Naoki's breath leaves him in a startled sound, strangled in confusion as her weight pushes against him and her arms tighten like that. His own slacken in shock but nothing could wrench his hands from her barring Yang herself. He does catch himself in a stumble, his face lifting up from her shoulder.]
Yang? [He hadn't known what to expect, wasn't even prepared to begin with, but he sounds just bewildered.]
[ Her eyes are gleaming red when they meet his, although her hair remains its usual shade. ]
I don't care whether you've got the body of a demon or a team full of badasses, you're still just one person! You can't always stop everyone or save everyone, and you still tried and you had to stop your friends in the only way you had left, didn't you? You stopped some pretty terrible worlds from coming into existence, and that's incredible, so stop blaming yourself for everything else!
In fact, stop beating yourself up for all of this and just let yourself be sad already! Mourn if you have to, you've got that right. [ Yang's furious, her own breaths emerging shakily and her voice loud now, but she can't stop talking. And she won't let him go. ] But don't let me ever hear you say you didn't do anything! You did more than one person should ever have to do!
[Let himself be sad? Mourn? He's got that right? Even when he's the one who killed them to begin with? Or when he was the one who couldn't save them? But there's certainty in what Yang says and back there he had thought that he wanted to hear the same from someone, instead of hearing how he could never--
After hearing everything-- so many things--
His hands tighten at her back again and he opens his mouth to say something, but his voice is lodged somewhere else so he gives up. One hand lifts from her back, raising up, his hand and arm curling up, fingers curling into her hair. He leans in, and he doesn't even realise yet his cheeks are already damp, like finally something's broken.
With a sniff, remarkably quiet, Naoki brushes his wet cheek against hers (looks at her eyes, those eyes again) before turning his face down against her neck, shoulders shaking as he blinks against tears. He does get out, muffled but somehow vehement, like he's wanted to say it for a long time:] I really...hate that it ended up like that.
[ It's a bit flustering when the guy you like just brushed cheeks with you and is now pressing his face to your neck, but Yang's not even thinking about it now, because he's crying, and she's both relieved and worried at the same time. Has he ever really-- no, not that she can remember, and she's sure he wouldn't admit to it if she asked.
But now, the red in her irises fades back to the usual violet as he trembles in her hold, and Yang moves one hand up (careful to avoid the horn) to cradle the back of his head. ]
I'd hate it, too. But I meant what I said-- you're not alone, Naoki.
[Quite the understatement. She gives herself a moment before she looks down at her hands as she speaks.]
.... I found out perhaps no more than a few months ago that I am not the blood relative of the king. For a time, I was stripped of my right to succession and was labeled a traitor to my country, blamed for a disaster that sparked a war.
[ . . . . . She closes her eyes as she admits:] I was to drink poison under his orders.
[Then in a tenuous attempt to keep Yang from reacting strongly, she speaks quickly and follows with that sentence.] I am fine now, naturally. Everything has since been smoothed over but I.... [She turns to Yang and attempts a smile.] I'm fine.
[ ... Why do most of her friends have these deep, terrible pasts where horrible shit happens to them WHY?? Poison?? Treason? Her dad had tried to have her killed??
Not that Yang says that, and she can't even hug Natalia when she's got this stupid cold to avoid spreading, but the look on her face is clearly unhappy. ]
... I'd believe that more if it didn't bug you enough that you'd want to talk parents with me.
[His fingers slide more into her hair and there's really no way to cry on her that's not going to get her wet, so he's giving into it. He can worry about it later, but for now that fear from earlier's been whisked away, just like that.]
...I mean, you're right here. [She came, just from hearing him shaken up in a phone call. He almost wants to smile about it, and how strange after everything he just told her.] You really did... [He swallows briefly, as much from tears still as well as being unused to saying what he's about to, that tells what he'd been hoping for, wanting.] ...stay.
Didn't I already tell you that my opinion of you wasn't going to change?
[ She can feel the wetness soaking into her skin-- and she lets it, taking a steadying breath before she smiles. ]
What you told me doesn't make me think any less of you. I mean, yeah, it kind of really hurts when I think that you were an idiot and kept this to yourself, but Naoki is Naoki. You're still as human as you ever were.
[She might feel the slightly wry smile Naoki presses into her skin, before he lifts his face slightly, other hand shifting from her back to rub his palm roughly across his eyes. He couldn't even say when the last time he cried about-- anything was.]
...Yeah, I am too. [Though he'll try not to make a habit of late-night relying.] I'm really glad that I trust you.
[Not that he's glad that she's trustworthy, but that he's glad he finally let himself, that he was capable of trusting her. What an easy thing it is to say now. He's glad he met her, became friends, came to trust, came to like her--]
[ Yang's smile softens, and she drifts one hand away from his back, up to his face to rub her fingers across the damper parts of it. It's just for a few seconds, before she lowers her hand.]
You've been through a lot, and I know trusting didn't come easy... so thanks.
[ Thanks for letting her care. In her sleepwear in an entryway in frigid weather at some bizarre hour.
[Naoki's eyes squint as her fingers rub, feeling a little flicker of self-consciousness now that he's done crying, after the worst of all of the emotions have calmed down. But her hand is warm, and she's been touching him without gloves all this time-- though thinking about that makes the self-conscious feelings worse.
But, he does feel more... settled than he has for a long time. She knows the things he feels the worst about, what he's done, and she's still here.
He tightens his arms around her, as though in a parting squeeze, before he lets them go slack around her.] I'm really the one who has thanking to do. [For being patient with him, for trusting him first, for every little thing she's done for him...] ...C'mon, Yang, let's go in properly. I'll make us something to drink.
[ She'll take that as thanks with a small measure of relief; he looks a lot better, less worn ragged from his own feelings, and honestly, she's still not all that warm-- so she nods, moving forward. ]
[Naoki's expression warms visibly, and he nods in turn, heading inside. In to the living room, which is still mostly dark until he flicks on one of the lamps and gestures to the couch.]
Then, I'll be right back, just wait here. [He'll go make-- well, hot chocolate, actually. And he'll flit off to his room too while the kettle's boiling. You're just in a tank top and shorts, Yang (don't think he's forgot), so he fetches a sweater, and he'll move to come and drop it about her shoulders on his way back to the kitchen...]
[ Is she supposed to stay standing? She's still moderately sleepy (although most of that had been banished when she'd yelled at him), but getting a sweater dropped on her demands her focus. So Yang will just be wriggling her way into the sweater, pulling her hair free and settling herself on the couch or what other piece of cushy furniture there happens to be. ]
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