[ Reliving things is one thing. In your dreams, where you see it through your own eyes, relive the sensations. He can't recall how many times he's dreamed of growing cold on the concrete floor, of the edges of his vision blurring as everything seems to fade into a quiet buzz of static. Of wishing everyone didn't look so sad, when part of him felt so relieved.
It's something else to see it in startlingly clarity, like a reel at the movies. This time, there's no faint sense of relief, of the weight on his shoulders shifting in favor of peace. There's just himself, watching himself bleed out, watching the pack of bodies burst onto the scene with calls of his name in panic and fear.
There's just himself, watching the boy with white hair turn him over and hold him in his arms, and something hard twists in his stomach and climbs into his throat. Jing Yuan's words merely wrench it further, unable to stop his features from twitching, threatening to collapse into something he's not sure he wants anyone to see.
He goes stiff, hands slipping back into his pockets to return to their white-knuckled form. There's something...awkward, uncomfortable, uncertain in his eyes, shadowed as they are. Because when it comes down to it, did he actually know? For all his efforts, did he actually believe what he was trying to in the first place? ]
...They- [ His teeth grit, gaze peering down. ] They would have moved on. Eventually.
[ It's obvious now, looking at this, that he's struggling to believe that. At Ken's trembling figure with his bloodstained hands.
...Why the long face...? Isn't this...exactly what you wanted?
Yamagishi's arms helping to hold him up.
It's alright. Hold onto that anger.
At Mitsuru's face, scrunched with indescribable emotion that her polished veneer can't hide.
You've still got your whole life ahead of you.
At Makoto's face, almost blank if not for the furrow of his brows and the tight purse of his lips.
From now on...you're going to have to live for yourself.
At Akihiko, who has tears in the corners of his eyes, as the phantom of Shinjiro carefully pets the dog nudging his hand with a shaky movement before his gaze tips upwards. It's amazing, how he sounded so confident even as his tongue was tinged with blood and his words died in his throat.
Aki. And that bloodstained hand raises, shaky and uneven, just for the other boy to grasp it tightly with a shake of his own. Look after'im for me.
I will sounded just as uneven as it did before, even as Akihiko tries so hard to keep himself from shaking. Shinjiro looks, really looks, and there's a sort of broken fondness in his eyes. ]
...I had made up my mind. [ But he's not looking at Jing Yuan. He's looking at Akihiko, and then at Ken, watching their faces in a clarity he didn't have before. ] I didn't think about it much, besides gettin' everything in order. I didn't want to. I wanted it to be over, so it wouldn't bother me anymore. [ A pause. ] Wouldn't bother them.
continued cw for suicidal disc
It's something else to see it in startlingly clarity, like a reel at the movies. This time, there's no faint sense of relief, of the weight on his shoulders shifting in favor of peace. There's just himself, watching himself bleed out, watching the pack of bodies burst onto the scene with calls of his name in panic and fear.
There's just himself, watching the boy with white hair turn him over and hold him in his arms, and something hard twists in his stomach and climbs into his throat. Jing Yuan's words merely wrench it further, unable to stop his features from twitching, threatening to collapse into something he's not sure he wants anyone to see.
He goes stiff, hands slipping back into his pockets to return to their white-knuckled form. There's something...awkward, uncomfortable, uncertain in his eyes, shadowed as they are. Because when it comes down to it, did he actually know? For all his efforts, did he actually believe what he was trying to in the first place? ]
...They- [ His teeth grit, gaze peering down. ] They would have moved on. Eventually.
[ It's obvious now, looking at this, that he's struggling to believe that. At Ken's trembling figure with his bloodstained hands.
...Why the long face...? Isn't this...exactly what you wanted?
Yamagishi's arms helping to hold him up.
It's alright. Hold onto that anger.
At Mitsuru's face, scrunched with indescribable emotion that her polished veneer can't hide.
You've still got your whole life ahead of you.
At Makoto's face, almost blank if not for the furrow of his brows and the tight purse of his lips.
From now on...you're going to have to live for yourself.
At Akihiko, who has tears in the corners of his eyes, as the phantom of Shinjiro carefully pets the dog nudging his hand with a shaky movement before his gaze tips upwards. It's amazing, how he sounded so confident even as his tongue was tinged with blood and his words died in his throat.
Aki. And that bloodstained hand raises, shaky and uneven, just for the other boy to grasp it tightly with a shake of his own. Look after'im for me.
I will sounded just as uneven as it did before, even as Akihiko tries so hard to keep himself from shaking. Shinjiro looks, really looks, and there's a sort of broken fondness in his eyes. ]
...I had made up my mind. [ But he's not looking at Jing Yuan. He's looking at Akihiko, and then at Ken, watching their faces in a clarity he didn't have before. ] I didn't think about it much, besides gettin' everything in order. I didn't want to. I wanted it to be over, so it wouldn't bother me anymore. [ A pause. ] Wouldn't bother them.
[ Because-
This is...how it should be. ]