[ if yuki were to reach out, to hurt him again somehow, ugetsu wouldn't mind. this in and of itself is not a good thing. part of him knows this. but it's buried alive somewhere the sound does not reach, neither up nor down. the moon goes on. the phases cycle. love and hate.
yuki tells him to fuck off and he means shut up, he means not to bring mafuyu up not now not ever. and he doesn't have to use the exact words for ugetsu to hear: that mafuyu is too good for him even to mention, that mafuyu is also too good for yuki. his thoughts encapsulate what yuki's truth once was without asking either: he never let mafuyu see him. that much is clear.
the way mafuyu sang, one would believe yuki really did die that night.
the way mafuyu sang, ugetsu and akihiko really did.
what kinds of songs is he writing now? ugetsu hasn't seen him in a while. their schedules don't allow for it, and now he can't even leave this bed for who knows how long. what card should he play? he could continue to be cruel. or he could try to get yuki to sneak him out somehow. it's not impossible. though ugetsu has never been under quite as much surveillance. then again, no one has actively ever tried to kill him on such a scale before.
maybe he could try once yuki leaves.
maybe if he waits, his body will finally relent and do the rest for him.
maybe.
in yuki's voice there is a tremble like the way the earth shivers in warning before it splits apart, the way the water of the ocean's surface flickers as if by light and shadow but truly means a storm.
ugetsu is well versed in both.
shaking. hurting. held together by no one even knows what or how or why.
you don't want to be here.
part of what keeps them circling each other and swallowing each other down even if it chokes them is both the understanding of music and silence and also this: contradictions. in themselves. in other people. when they're sober. when they're high. when they're alive.
when they're dying.
for a little while, ugetsu was. but they brought him back. he doesn't care for the details.
does yuki know?
he doubts it. seems like he rushed here.
what would have been a slow breath and then maybe words... becomes a cough. it spasms. the pain is enormous even as drugged up as he is. sweat breaks out across his forehead, his nape, clammy and pale. ugetsu though is one of those bizarre creatures who almost looks as beautiful or the same when he's destroyed, but he looks more like a painting than a person. less real. less. less. less.
more.
he can't tell if he's coughed up blood in his mouth or if he bit his tongue. he swallows. and only realizes as his blind eyes blink fiercely, that where one bandaged hand shot out to steady himself against the bedrail, he ended up resting it against something else instead. through the swathe of fabric and tape, it's still clear enough. the warmth there. yuki. ah.
yeah. he really shouldn't be here. but ugetsu doesn't pull his hand away. ]
that one art of him and aki with cat ears and stuff...lil meow meow indeed..he really is overwhelmed
yuki tells him to fuck off and he means shut up, he means not to bring mafuyu up not now not ever. and he doesn't have to use the exact words for ugetsu to hear: that mafuyu is too good for him even to mention, that mafuyu is also too good for yuki. his thoughts encapsulate what yuki's truth once was without asking either: he never let mafuyu see him. that much is clear.
the way mafuyu sang, one would believe yuki really did die that night.
the way mafuyu sang, ugetsu and akihiko really did.
what kinds of songs is he writing now? ugetsu hasn't seen him in a while. their schedules don't allow for it, and now he can't even leave this bed for who knows how long. what card should he play? he could continue to be cruel. or he could try to get yuki to sneak him out somehow. it's not impossible. though ugetsu has never been under quite as much surveillance. then again, no one has actively ever tried to kill him on such a scale before.
maybe he could try once yuki leaves.
maybe if he waits, his body will finally relent and do the rest for him.
maybe.
in yuki's voice there is a tremble like the way the earth shivers in warning before it splits apart, the way the water of the ocean's surface flickers as if by light and shadow but truly means a storm.
ugetsu is well versed in both.
shaking. hurting. held together by no one even knows what or how or why.
you don't want to be here.
part of what keeps them circling each other and swallowing each other down even if it chokes them is both the understanding of music and silence and also this: contradictions. in themselves. in other people. when they're sober. when they're high. when they're alive.
when they're dying.
for a little while, ugetsu was. but they brought him back. he doesn't care for the details.
does yuki know?
he doubts it. seems like he rushed here.
what would have been a slow breath and then maybe words... becomes a cough. it spasms. the pain is enormous even as drugged up as he is. sweat breaks out across his forehead, his nape, clammy and pale. ugetsu though is one of those bizarre creatures who almost looks as beautiful or the same when he's destroyed, but he looks more like a painting than a person. less real. less. less. less.
more.
he can't tell if he's coughed up blood in his mouth or if he bit his tongue. he swallows. and only realizes as his blind eyes blink fiercely, that where one bandaged hand shot out to steady himself against the bedrail, he ended up resting it against something else instead. through the swathe of fabric and tape, it's still clear enough. the warmth there. yuki. ah.
yeah. he really shouldn't be here. but ugetsu doesn't pull his hand away. ]