[well, as soon as Daan is bubbled and the trial ends, Lavi strikes out on his own, striding off. Yuffie will follow, he knows, but he needs this brief moment on his own -- and maybe she understands that, maybe he gets that small moment of space he desperately, furiously needs. He was walking before, but now he's running, running past Daan and wherever people are crowded around Karlach, following a path where he thinks no one will be, this small small town of barely twenty and smaller now. He doesn't want to see anyone when he's like this, he doesn't want to comfort anyone or hear anyone's reassurances -- it could have been anyone. they're still out there. a monster or someone as themselves. i can't do this. i can't be here.
So he keeps running endlessly, moving locations, staying briefly in each, making sure -- very sure -- that he avoids everyone, contact and company and both. he slams his hand on the door that leads him to the new locations, and then insanely, wildly goes down to the summer camp, straight into the woods and stands there, staring.
This is where Yuu died. No. I don't know where he died. I don't know anything. I didn't even go look for him. I... made someone else do it.
I left his body in someone else's hands. I let him be eaten. I let him die. I let him die like that -- without finding the answer. Without finding anything.
Even now, he wants to pull himself together. He wants to press himself back into the person named 'Bookman' and take advantage of the total void of feeling, the detachment. He wants to not feel anything, ever again.
Don't think about it. Don't think about it! Don't...
He opens his eye and stares at the grass and sees the body, the arms on either side, the torso and stomach open -- flesh exposed to the sky -- the tattoo ripped open, and pulled out. blood pooling from kanda's ankles, no cross-shaped scars. just blood, from a precise cut. to hobble him, like he was a fucking animal. like he was less than what he was, less than what he meant --
even though he means everything and more
and then his face, eyes closed, the hair sprawled on the grass. the scent from his face. drugged tea.
he hallucinated. he was seeing the worst things he could see and then he did. he didn't get any peace. he didn't even get a chance to fight back.
and then his arms... arms? Lavi stares.
I didn't look at his arms. I didn't see his arms. I didn't --]
I...
[he doesn't remember falling, but he's already on the grass, grabbing his head and gasping -- breathing too hard to scream properly even though all he wants to do is rage, and then the tears form and they fall down, down, down and lavi can't breathe at all. he cannot breath or scream or say anything but stare at nothing and think of kanda's body, masterfully put together by his precise memory, and relive the last nine hours -- forty eight hours. from the time he saw the bulletin board to now. asa's voice in his head "it was eating him" and kate's soft voice "the cut matched mugen". the prism of memory is on him and he cannot break it, and he wants so desperately to let it all be over but he can't because he can't forget.]
Yuu -- I...
[he can't forget so he lets go, he lets the dam of emotions build and break through, smothering him until he can't see reason or logic, just the pulse-pounding rage and grief that he is alive and yuu is dead and he failed him]
[but even emotion has to be eventually spent. slowly, quietly, the sobs lessen, petering out into soft, quiet breaths. his mind empties of emotion and logic, focusing instead on the sensations. the grass scratching his cheek, the chill from the breeze brushing against his damp face.
Alive. I'm alive.
he waits for the veritable rush of grief and disappointment. and they do appear briefly, dully, before fading. because maybe he did want to be voted for -- some small part of him wanted the blame placed squarely on his shoulders, wanted out of these rituals and trials and the constant disappointment and hope thwarted. but most of all, wanted nothing more than to see Yuu again in a way that's solely, wholly him.
He can't forget how he saw him last.
But he can remember more than just the town. He can remember Kanda in all those three years of knowing him, remember every day and moment. the time spent in battle, the brief periods when they were not. kanda with the people who cared for him the most -- with lenalee, scolding him in a way no one else could ever manage to do. marie, sitting by him and offering a gentle hand. tiedoll, finishing the last brushstroke of a portrait, adoration in every line. komui, reever, johnny. chaoji, the newest member of kanda's life, but full of admiration. allen, a constant thorn in each other's sides. krory, miranda, timothy, swinging in orbit and then out, and then back again.
kanda standing a little apart from everyone else, but always, always included.
yuu and alma bursting into hiccups of laughter, smiles bright.
ah.
he thought he shed all his tears but they come upon him again, soft and quiet -- this time meant for Yuu in his entirety, and not for all the desperate mistakes Lavi committed for him. just kanda. just yuu. just him. defined not by the end thrust upon him or his tragic fate. but just how he lived, quietly and stubbornly and oh so wonderfully. the press of his shoulder against Lavi's, all of his promises, more and more details until they blot out the sky overhead. until the tears blur and drip again and lavi can breathe easy.]
...You better write.
[except there's no heat to his words. he doesn't mean them. he doesn't think kanda should have to do anything anymore. if there really is an other side, then... he wants him to be alright, more than anything.]
I'll write too.
[soon, once he picks himself up, once he remembers to be something other than his true self. but for now, he just lies on the ground and looks at the stars, watching the memories go by.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
week 4 saturday
So he keeps running endlessly, moving locations, staying briefly in each, making sure -- very sure -- that he avoids everyone, contact and company and both. he slams his hand on the door that leads him to the new locations, and then insanely, wildly goes down to the summer camp, straight into the woods and stands there, staring.
This is where Yuu died. No. I don't know where he died. I don't know anything. I didn't even go look for him. I... made someone else do it.
I left his body in someone else's hands. I let him be eaten. I let him die. I let him die like that -- without finding the answer. Without finding anything.
Even now, he wants to pull himself together. He wants to press himself back into the person named 'Bookman' and take advantage of the total void of feeling, the detachment. He wants to not feel anything, ever again.
Don't think about it. Don't think about it! Don't...
He opens his eye and stares at the grass and sees the body, the arms on either side, the torso and stomach open -- flesh exposed to the sky -- the tattoo ripped open, and pulled out. blood pooling from kanda's ankles, no cross-shaped scars. just blood, from a precise cut. to hobble him, like he was a fucking animal. like he was less than what he was, less than what he meant --
even though he means everything and more
and then his face, eyes closed, the hair sprawled on the grass. the scent from his face. drugged tea.
he hallucinated. he was seeing the worst things he could see and then he did. he didn't get any peace. he didn't even get a chance to fight back.
and then his arms... arms? Lavi stares.
I didn't look at his arms. I didn't see his arms. I didn't --]
I...
[he doesn't remember falling, but he's already on the grass, grabbing his head and gasping -- breathing too hard to scream properly even though all he wants to do is rage, and then the tears form and they fall down, down, down and lavi can't breathe at all. he cannot breath or scream or say anything but stare at nothing and think of kanda's body, masterfully put together by his precise memory, and relive the last nine hours -- forty eight hours. from the time he saw the bulletin board to now. asa's voice in his head "it was eating him" and kate's soft voice "the cut matched mugen". the prism of memory is on him and he cannot break it, and he wants so desperately to let it all be over but he can't because he can't forget.]
Yuu -- I...
[he can't forget so he lets go, he lets the dam of emotions build and break through, smothering him until he can't see reason or logic, just the pulse-pounding rage and grief that he is alive and yuu is dead and he failed him]
2/2
Alive. I'm alive.
he waits for the veritable rush of grief and disappointment. and they do appear briefly, dully, before fading. because maybe he did want to be voted for -- some small part of him wanted the blame placed squarely on his shoulders, wanted out of these rituals and trials and the constant disappointment and hope thwarted. but most of all, wanted nothing more than to see Yuu again in a way that's solely, wholly him.
He can't forget how he saw him last.
But he can remember more than just the town. He can remember Kanda in all those three years of knowing him, remember every day and moment. the time spent in battle, the brief periods when they were not. kanda with the people who cared for him the most -- with lenalee, scolding him in a way no one else could ever manage to do. marie, sitting by him and offering a gentle hand. tiedoll, finishing the last brushstroke of a portrait, adoration in every line. komui, reever, johnny. chaoji, the newest member of kanda's life, but full of admiration. allen, a constant thorn in each other's sides. krory, miranda, timothy, swinging in orbit and then out, and then back again.
kanda standing a little apart from everyone else, but always, always included.
yuu and alma bursting into hiccups of laughter, smiles bright.
ah.
he thought he shed all his tears but they come upon him again, soft and quiet -- this time meant for Yuu in his entirety, and not for all the desperate mistakes Lavi committed for him. just kanda. just yuu. just him. defined not by the end thrust upon him or his tragic fate. but just how he lived, quietly and stubbornly and oh so wonderfully. the press of his shoulder against Lavi's, all of his promises, more and more details until they blot out the sky overhead. until the tears blur and drip again and lavi can breathe easy.]
...You better write.
[except there's no heat to his words. he doesn't mean them. he doesn't think kanda should have to do anything anymore. if there really is an other side, then... he wants him to be alright, more than anything.]
I'll write too.
[soon, once he picks himself up, once he remembers to be something other than his true self. but for now, he just lies on the ground and looks at the stars, watching the memories go by.]
no subject