[ probably with his new boyfriend, or, perhaps practicing the violin alone in a studio that isn't here. both are, in ugetsu's eyes, awful, so of course he won't acknowledge it. ]
ok we'll i'm gonna be there soon so i'll see you in a little bit ok? just text me if you feel worse
[ it takes him a few minutes longer than promised to get to ugetsu, viola tucked into one corner of his duffel bag amongst soft miniature blankets. also in the bag is the first aid kit. something about this whole thing just seems off, but ugetsu is... unique in many ways, and perhaps this is just another thing that he does. mars still worries, though.
the door is unlocked when he gets there, though he doesn't know if it was intentional or due to ugetsu being absent-minded. or too much in pain to notice. he makes his way to the basement, one hand gently petting viola as she peers at the unfamiliar surroundings in tiny kitten angst. ]
[ honestly he dozed off some seconds after mars' last reply and didn't therefore send one of his own. he stirs at the sound of the door however, blinking slow and unworried. even the house somehow is good at not being too inviting unless overt, so he has no doubt it would be mars. that's not fool-proof logic, but ugetsu doesn't care enough to be concerned. rather, he finds himself perhaps too selfishly pleased at the particular tone and medium of mars' voice in this space specially curated for sound in ways that appreciate even speaking better than most. from his spot sitting still against the counter's base, he smiles blithely and waves. ]
Hello. I hope you didn't have any trouble getting here.
[ he squints at the duffel, thoughtful. the ache in the back of his head made him a little nauseous before but that's ebbed off, and he supposes his inability to focus his eyes is residual from that too; the narrow edge of dizzy. well, that's why he's sitting after all; completely taken care of. or so he'd say. the swelling bruise on his face, threaded with jagged abrasions that came from tasteless rings, well, he wasn't lying when he said it doesn't 'bother' him. 'hurts' is almost a friendly word. he hasn't been thinking hard about anything all morning or night; it's pleasant.
though he does wish he could focus his vision better, because... ]
And hello to you too.
[ it's not that he can see viola; it's that he can't imagine she's hiding anywhere else on mars, though if she was that would be impressive on both their parts. ]
No. It was ok. Viola doesn't really like the train, but the vet gave her something so she's a little drowsy anyway.
[ ugetsu might think that he's "fine" and "taken care of things" but with one look mars can tell that that isn't the case. the bruise blooming on his cheek looks worse than he imagined with the little ring cuts, and with one look at his unfocused gaze tells him that he might have a concussion. ]
Hey. [ he sets his bag down and kneels by ugetsu, lifting his hand to very gently touch his hair. he must have hit his head somewhere, and — there, he feels a bit of wetness, his brows knitting together when his fingers come away with a little smudge of red. ] You definitely understated how bad this was. I think — I think I should take you to the hospital. You look like you hit your head pretty bad.
[ it is not exaggeration to say that ugetsu would rather do almost anything - including perhaps expire, vaguely, - than go to the hospital. now that he thinks of it, he doesn't even feel his words were as strongly barbed as they could have been. he's definitely been meaner to akihiko. that thought draws the corners of his mouth up in a smile that's somehow both gentle and disconnected, neither of which matters. ]
I'm better off here, with you and Viola.
[ plain as day, he could have written it in the air: I don't want to go and so I'm not going to. it's a difficulty to center his vision on mars; things around him move almost like visible ripples in the air, so he closes his eyes, still smiling innocuous as can be. ]
And it didn't feel that bad, but I probably stained his coffee table.
[ sighing once, he considers what else he could say but each intention sort of slips out of his mind as soon as it arrives. in his head there's always just the ghost of a concerto's aftermath and arguments he's had and arguments he hasn't had. in his head there are useless things taking up valuable space - sentimental facts about a too sentimental time. in his head there is a person named mars and a kitten named viola and the space they take up is perfect.
Me and Viola have pretty bad qualifications even if we combine our skills.
[ he's not sure he can make ugetsu do anything, because ugetsu is the type of person that refuses to be moved once he's made up his mind, but he can at least look after him. what was meant to be a temporary visit now seems like it might be extended into the night. at least until he's sure ugetsu can navigate safely on his own again. right now he wouldn't trust him to take three steps alone. ]
Okay, well... first thing we're gonna do is get you off the floor. [ it's a poor place to get proper rest, for starters. ] I can carry you to your bed. Pretty sure I can bench press your weight pretty easy.
[ it occurs to him that he should probably ask first, but since he's going to take him to bed no matter what the response, he decides to skip over it. gently, he slides his arm beneath ugetsu's knees and cradles him with the other, carefully lifting him off the floor. viola scampers after them, slightly off-balance herself. ]
Don't be mad at me, but you're totally banned from doing anything for the next twenty-four hours. Minimum. It can be extended. [ he makes sure his steps are steady so as to not jostle him. ugetsu is about as heavy as he imagined, which is not very. ] No phone. No TV. No screens in general. And no violin.
[ there's something in ugetsu that has this sense he should be offended at that, but he's surprised to find he isn't offended so much as dubious. he's about to tell mars he needn't bother, that he could do it himself he just was being dramatic and feeling sorry for himself; then mars scoops him up like a cat and ugetsu shuts his mouth for the first time voluntarily in probably Ever.
the truth: ugetsu was being dramatic and feeling sorry for himself. also the truth: he could not have made it to his bed on his own save perhaps on his hands and knees and probably ugetsu would rather literally die than do that. so. you know.
his eyes try to follow viola who's in their wake, her tiny kitten legs a-flurry to keep up, but it makes him dizzier so he closes his eyes only to have them snap open as his head jerks up to stare at mars.
there are just some words ugetsu isn't equipped to hear.
with aki, ugetsu will yell or even hit him. they'll fight until they're both bloody and bruised and equal parts love and the inability to apologize.
with mars, he can't do either of these things; he doesn't want to.
he settles for a lie he supposes mars can see through.]
I think I'd sound poorly right now.
[ he wouldn't. and when he's more coherent he'll try to anyway. but that's later, probably tomorrow in fact. ]
Hmm.
[ everything in the basement apartment is close together enough that the walk to the bed is hardly far, but ugetsu has enough time to get fascinated with the neckline of mars' shirt, absently picking at it, the focal point of his vision so narrow it's immeasurable. the fabric is soft, a word he associates with mars and certainly viola. his vision swims so he closes his eyes again. he's reaching a point where he doesn't feel the cut on the back of his head or its bruising, and not the one on his face either. everything is delightfully blurred except for the way mars carries him -- careful, like he could be protected from himself.
[ if he ends up having to physically wrestle the violin from ugetsu's hands tomorrow, he wouldn't be surprised. "no" is only a part of ugetsu's vocabulary when he's saying it to other people, not when people someone tries to use it on him.
it's fine. it'll be fine.
very carefully, he lowers ugetsu onto his bed after pulling the covers back. he quickly fetches a towel to slide under his head, then scoops viola off the floor to set her down beside ugetsu, where she explores the blankets before climbing up ugetsu's leg. ]
I'm just gonna clean you up a little. This is gonna sting.
[ mars is busy with the first aid kit, pulling out cotton pads and some gauze. he's cleaned up his own cuts and bruises enough times that it doesn't bother him, but he's still gentle as he dabs a cotton ball soaked with alcohol against the cuts on ugetsu's face. they'll heal, though there might be a bit of scarring leftover. he's more concerned with the concussion, and he's even gentler when he slips some damp gauze behind ugetsu's head, cradling him carefully. ]
Do I look like one person or two? [ hopefully not more than two. ]
[ highly probable, and the saving graces if one believes in such things will be that 1. ugetsu won't want to damage the violin and knows he's good at breaking things not putting them back together; and 2. ugetsu will be too ill to argue the way he might have. not knowing that though, he submits himself suspiciously docilely to mars' attention. well, maybe not so suspicious; ugetsu does like attention though not in the way he's garnered it for himself over the years. he doesn't mind the audiences but sometimes he thinks they even listen with their eyes and that...bothers him. to what purpose is it in coming to a violin concerto only to half-hear?
often he thinks he should feel anger; but privately he just feels sad. then he feels neither and smiles and waves and says thank you and life goes on. it's nothing.
the hand ugetsu turns palm up is a gentle offer for viola who noses his palm before turning in two circles and experimentally pressing her paws just against the bedding next to his hand. he smiles and it turns into a flinching wince nearer the end of when mars is tending his face. but he blinks and ignores it otherwise, much more fascinated by how gentle mars' hands are. he's careful. ugetsu thinks he's probably well versed in this having had to take care of himself for so long, and that ugetsu himself is reaping the benefits is sort of bittersweet. he knows he doesn't deserve it but he's also the kind of person to keep taking what's offered.
eventually, he'll fuck things up. that's almost a certainty.
but for now he has the privilege of mars and the much preferred personal first aid over any hospital. the cautious but deliberate touch to the back of his head hurts but of course it hurts. ugetsu's languid smile doesn't budge as his eyes flit up and he considers the question. ]
One and a half?
[ mars almost looks like a time lapse. ugetsu can hear the music that would play and it has nothing to do with what they're doing right now so much as the particular curves of mars' eyes and the soft set of his mouth, the sort of sad fear he remembers from when he stayed in his apartment, and this even quieter resilience that manages to care about people who haven't ever earned it. it doesn't say enough to call a song that belongs to someone sad or happy or lost or found.
if mars had a song, ugetsu thinks it would trill well under his fingertips and the fine clear cadenzas would ferry in different weather the way the sky does: blue days are clear knowing they won't always be.
how lucky, ugetsu thinks, to meet a day aware of himself. ]
But I know there's only one of you, so that counts, I think.
[ medical experts say: no.
ugetsu: does not care.
viola: has taken up camp on just the bare edge of ugetsu's palm, her tail flopped along the instep of his wrist. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
where's your roommate by the way?
no subject
No idea.
[ probably with his new boyfriend, or, perhaps practicing the violin alone in a studio that isn't here. both are, in ugetsu's eyes, awful, so of course he won't acknowledge it. ]
no subject
we'll i'm gonna be there soon so i'll see you in a little bit ok?
just text me if you feel worse
[ it takes him a few minutes longer than promised to get to ugetsu, viola tucked into one corner of his duffel bag amongst soft miniature blankets. also in the bag is the first aid kit. something about this whole thing just seems off, but ugetsu is... unique in many ways, and perhaps this is just another thing that he does. mars still worries, though.
the door is unlocked when he gets there, though he doesn't know if it was intentional or due to ugetsu being absent-minded. or too much in pain to notice. he makes his way to the basement, one hand gently petting viola as she peers at the unfamiliar surroundings in tiny kitten angst. ]
Ugetsu?
no subject
Hello. I hope you didn't have any trouble getting here.
[ he squints at the duffel, thoughtful. the ache in the back of his head made him a little nauseous before but that's ebbed off, and he supposes his inability to focus his eyes is residual from that too; the narrow edge of dizzy. well, that's why he's sitting after all; completely taken care of. or so he'd say. the swelling bruise on his face, threaded with jagged abrasions that came from tasteless rings, well, he wasn't lying when he said it doesn't 'bother' him. 'hurts' is almost a friendly word. he hasn't been thinking hard about anything all morning or night; it's pleasant.
though he does wish he could focus his vision better, because... ]
And hello to you too.
[ it's not that he can see viola; it's that he can't imagine she's hiding anywhere else on mars, though if she was that would be impressive on both their parts. ]
no subject
[ ugetsu might think that he's "fine" and "taken care of things" but with one look mars can tell that that isn't the case. the bruise blooming on his cheek looks worse than he imagined with the little ring cuts, and with one look at his unfocused gaze tells him that he might have a concussion. ]
Hey. [ he sets his bag down and kneels by ugetsu, lifting his hand to very gently touch his hair. he must have hit his head somewhere, and — there, he feels a bit of wetness, his brows knitting together when his fingers come away with a little smudge of red. ] You definitely understated how bad this was. I think — I think I should take you to the hospital. You look like you hit your head pretty bad.
no subject
I'm better off here, with you and Viola.
[ plain as day, he could have written it in the air: I don't want to go and so I'm not going to. it's a difficulty to center his vision on mars; things around him move almost like visible ripples in the air, so he closes his eyes, still smiling innocuous as can be. ]
And it didn't feel that bad, but I probably stained his coffee table.
[ sighing once, he considers what else he could say but each intention sort of slips out of his mind as soon as it arrives. in his head there's always just the ghost of a concerto's aftermath and arguments he's had and arguments he hasn't had. in his head there are useless things taking up valuable space - sentimental facts about a too sentimental time. in his head there is a person named mars and a kitten named viola and the space they take up is perfect.
he opens his eyes, half-mast. ]
no subject
[ he's not sure he can make ugetsu do anything, because ugetsu is the type of person that refuses to be moved once he's made up his mind, but he can at least look after him. what was meant to be a temporary visit now seems like it might be extended into the night. at least until he's sure ugetsu can navigate safely on his own again. right now he wouldn't trust him to take three steps alone. ]
Okay, well... first thing we're gonna do is get you off the floor. [ it's a poor place to get proper rest, for starters. ] I can carry you to your bed. Pretty sure I can bench press your weight pretty easy.
[ it occurs to him that he should probably ask first, but since he's going to take him to bed no matter what the response, he decides to skip over it. gently, he slides his arm beneath ugetsu's knees and cradles him with the other, carefully lifting him off the floor. viola scampers after them, slightly off-balance herself. ]
Don't be mad at me, but you're totally banned from doing anything for the next twenty-four hours. Minimum. It can be extended. [ he makes sure his steps are steady so as to not jostle him. ugetsu is about as heavy as he imagined, which is not very. ] No phone. No TV. No screens in general. And no violin.
no subject
the truth: ugetsu was being dramatic and feeling sorry for himself. also the truth: he could not have made it to his bed on his own save perhaps on his hands and knees and probably ugetsu would rather literally die than do that. so. you know.
his eyes try to follow viola who's in their wake, her tiny kitten legs a-flurry to keep up, but it makes him dizzier so he closes his eyes only to have them snap open as his head jerks up to stare at mars.
there are just some words ugetsu isn't equipped to hear.
with aki, ugetsu will yell or even hit him. they'll fight until they're both bloody and bruised and equal parts love and the inability to apologize.
with mars, he can't do either of these things; he doesn't want to.
he settles for a lie he supposes mars can see through.]
I think I'd sound poorly right now.
[ he wouldn't. and when he's more coherent he'll try to anyway. but that's later, probably tomorrow in fact. ]
Hmm.
[ everything in the basement apartment is close together enough that the walk to the bed is hardly far, but ugetsu has enough time to get fascinated with the neckline of mars' shirt, absently picking at it, the focal point of his vision so narrow it's immeasurable. the fabric is soft, a word he associates with mars and certainly viola. his vision swims so he closes his eyes again. he's reaching a point where he doesn't feel the cut on the back of his head or its bruising, and not the one on his face either. everything is delightfully blurred except for the way mars carries him -- careful, like he could be protected from himself.
and what would that be like if it was true?
he almost laughs. ]
no subject
it's fine. it'll be fine.
very carefully, he lowers ugetsu onto his bed after pulling the covers back. he quickly fetches a towel to slide under his head, then scoops viola off the floor to set her down beside ugetsu, where she explores the blankets before climbing up ugetsu's leg. ]
I'm just gonna clean you up a little. This is gonna sting.
[ mars is busy with the first aid kit, pulling out cotton pads and some gauze. he's cleaned up his own cuts and bruises enough times that it doesn't bother him, but he's still gentle as he dabs a cotton ball soaked with alcohol against the cuts on ugetsu's face. they'll heal, though there might be a bit of scarring leftover. he's more concerned with the concussion, and he's even gentler when he slips some damp gauze behind ugetsu's head, cradling him carefully. ]
Do I look like one person or two? [ hopefully not more than two. ]
no subject
often he thinks he should feel anger; but privately he just feels sad. then he feels neither and smiles and waves and says thank you and life goes on. it's nothing.
the hand ugetsu turns palm up is a gentle offer for viola who noses his palm before turning in two circles and experimentally pressing her paws just against the bedding next to his hand. he smiles and it turns into a flinching wince nearer the end of when mars is tending his face. but he blinks and ignores it otherwise, much more fascinated by how gentle mars' hands are. he's careful. ugetsu thinks he's probably well versed in this having had to take care of himself for so long, and that ugetsu himself is reaping the benefits is sort of bittersweet. he knows he doesn't deserve it but he's also the kind of person to keep taking what's offered.
eventually, he'll fuck things up. that's almost a certainty.
but for now he has the privilege of mars and the much preferred personal first aid over any hospital. the cautious but deliberate touch to the back of his head hurts but of course it hurts. ugetsu's languid smile doesn't budge as his eyes flit up and he considers the question. ]
One and a half?
[ mars almost looks like a time lapse. ugetsu can hear the music that would play and it has nothing to do with what they're doing right now so much as the particular curves of mars' eyes and the soft set of his mouth, the sort of sad fear he remembers from when he stayed in his apartment, and this even quieter resilience that manages to care about people who haven't ever earned it. it doesn't say enough to call a song that belongs to someone sad or happy or lost or found.
if mars had a song, ugetsu thinks it would trill well under his fingertips and the fine clear cadenzas would ferry in different weather the way the sky does: blue days are clear knowing they won't always be.
how lucky, ugetsu thinks, to meet a day aware of himself. ]
But I know there's only one of you, so that counts, I think.
[ medical experts say: no.
ugetsu: does not care.
viola: has taken up camp on just the bare edge of ugetsu's palm, her tail flopped along the instep of his wrist. ]