thousand dreams, lotus boats upon the waters

[promittere]

NEW MOON ADAGIO

Between the constant requests from the North and the sense of tension that pervades the manor, Sage Tatara makes an executive decision: we're going North, baby.

Of all the things that have happened thus far, let this be the ultimate test of your magic. Even as we near summer, it's frigid. Protect yourselves and your allies from the cold. Protect yourselves while also fighting off monsters (or other territorial wizards, should you make the terrible mistake of wandering into another's territory), flying through the vast wilderness, or protecting the poor humans who need your help to survive. Time to blow off some of your steam. Just be sure to obey Tatara's one rule: don't kill each other.

One particular problem of note is in the Forest of Dreams. Without its guardian, many of these rogue monsters and dangerous predators, displaced from their normal habitats, have found their way into the forest. Many of them, however, are unable to survive against the fatal toxin, and there are plenty of animal corpses and mana stones that litter the forest. It might be best to clean these up before the forest guardian returns...

That said, the toxin is yet another thing you must protect yourself against in addition to the cold. While you can likely keep yourself from dying from the toxins, you may not be immune to its effects. This deadly toxin causes anyone who breathes it in to dream and hallucinate vividly, be it images of the past, imagined futures, thoughts of the present processed and warped...

Strangely enough, those nearby may end up sharing in your dreams... Did you want the darkest recesses of your thoughts, hopes, and fears unearthed for others to see?

Those who decide to venture far past the more populated (in relative terms) parts of the North may find themselves stumbling upon what looks to be an abandoned bandit hideout. It seems it's been abandoned for quite a while—nothing to loot here, sorry!—but there sure are a whole lot of monsters that have decided to make this hidden corner of the North their home.

While you're at it, you may find a nearby cave. Beautiful crystals dot the walls and the floors, and there are small pools of hot spring water free for relaxing. It seems to be relatively free of monsters, too. So maybe this wouldn't be a bad spot to relax, away from everything else?

However, there's one thing that makes this cave truly unique, and it isn't the vistas or the springs—it's the bats. These bats hear echoes of the past and replay them for visitors. Should you stay a while and listen, a bat may pay you a visit. And when it does, it may play for you the voices from the memories of visitors past, whose stories may hold a clue or two to your circumstances...

While the Forest of Dreams is a memory/dreamshare free for all, the aural memories replayed by the bats in the Cave of Time will come from one of the original wizards only. If you'd like an audio replay of a perhaps significant moment either in their personal life or a clue as to what happened to them (it will be randomized), then please reply to this comment!

JOB BOARD

Clean-up and repairs. While thanks to the hard work of your Eastern friends the worst was prevented, the City of Rain emerged from their short ordeal a little worse for wear.

Buildings need repair, blood needs to be cleaned off the streets, the injured need help. This is, perhaps, the only time you will be allowed to use magic openly in the city (you've been given permits and everything!), but you still are not allowed to talk outside of designated zones. Please, please don't get arrested...

As for the scrap that litters the streets? Unfortunately, you'll have to take it back to the scrapyard. But this time, there's a big, roaring bonfire out there. Just chuck all the scrap and debris in the fire. The city isn't taking any second chances—extreme situations call for extreme measures.

Reverence. Several Northern villages are currently outside the protection of a wizard, and have requested the sage's wizards' presence. They're terrified of the monsters and worried the barriers for their villages will fail sooner than later. They don't simply ask for help for free, however, and these smaller villages are steeped in their tradition—they'll pay you their respects, praying to you, offering you gifts, groveling at your feet, in hopes for a modicum of your time and protection. Do their offerings please you? Then assist them with what you deem appropriate for their worship to you: kill a few monsters for them, or a lot if you're pleased. Strengthen the barrier a lot, or not at all if you're displeased. It's up to you! You have the power here. What's it like to be a god for a day?

Ladies' night. The monthly lady officers' gathering is coming up in the City of Affluence—it's an exclusive meetup for the women involved in and related to Western military and bureaucratic affairs. Anyone is welcome, so long as they meet two requirements: they are outwardly presenting feminine, and they have an invitation to the gathering. Here's your chance to flex your transformation and glamour spells! Infiltrate the meetup with a disguise and a fake invitation, mingle, enjoy the drinks, the jazz, the entertainment, and find out what you can... What's the Western army up to? Be careful, though—don't get caught and kicked out!

The attendees seem to be excited about the new phantasmagoria technology and the upcoming display, and many whisper about the upcoming Venator meteor shower...

G'RAHA TASKS

Greetings, new friends! I am G'raha Tia, and while I hesitate to call myself a mentor or a replacement for the one you had, I am eternally grateful for the assistance I received and will do my best to help your cause in any way I can. To that end, I feel I may need to be caught up to speed on the events and get to know all of you.

We can have some tea and sandwiches and have a discussion! That's the best way to learn, sometimes.

TATARA ACTIVITIES

Even if we're not here for very long, I think we should leave our mark (not literally! Don't paint on the walls!). I got paint and big paper in the dining hall, but no brushes... Do you know what that means? Finger paint! Finger paint a portrait of yourself with your name and I'll hang it up in the library when they're all done!

Thanks to Cid and Khun, my camcorder works now. The thing is, what's the point of filming anything if we have no way to watch the film?! Could you guys work together to make some kind of projector? Or like...VHS player? We could have a movie night together!

OOC NOTES

🌙 Welcome to your fourth event! It's your dreamshare and memshare event! Ready to open up with your deepest and darkest secrets?
🌙 We're halfway through the game. How do you feel?
🌙 Back at the manor, Kurapika and Maya have set up a bulletin board! Leave comments, argue with your neighbors, have fun. Be nice. Don't set it on fire.
🌙 On the admin side of things, Lav has swapped out Wanderer for G'raha! Please say hello to your new mentor NPC.
🌙 Your OOC plotting post is here! Remember to keep all wider plotting to the post, and remember to check back frequently, since not everyone checks plurk or discord all the time.
🌙 The next country to go on their mission is North. Do you think a PVP-enabled mission will go well?

» NAVIGATION

Comments

cw: suicidal ideation discussion

[foresightis2020]

[ When Shinjiro moves to leave, Jing Yuan, much as he desires to watch the scene, turns and moves to follow, but regardless it does seem as if the scene has no care for the movements of either of them. It has its own designs, continuing as if unencumbered — following along as if unhindered.

As for him, he has more or less forgotten about doing his job, because of the circumstances, and there is something like a genuine pit of worry about Shinji in viewing this at all. And...what is to happen to him in the memory.

How gracious is it still that the memory persists? That this seemingly wretched place and Shinjiro's thoughts — no, his words — follow like some kind of misbegotten specter that hangs over them both. ]

...This is what you deserve?

[ The words ring harder than the others, and he can't help himself asking, blurting it out when normally he would wait, perhaps. The guilt that weighs so heavy over Shinjiro, that seems about to make a noose of its own over the other man's neck, if it hasn't already.

The foreboding feeling rises again within him, though Shinjiro in truth is still beside him. He reassures himself that surely, if he is here, he's safe. Though, it doesn't settle much in him at all.

There is another aspect to all of this, and a conclusion that is apparent by those words:

Shinjiro thinks he deserves to die. That...is an irrevocable truth staring right at him, and he wonders again how the young man watching this feels, again and again. The pain of the revelation settles heavy in his own heart, however. ]

But, why? Why would you believe that?

[fullspbar]

[ He thinks part of him hoped Jing Yuan would say nothing. That'd he'd just do what Shinjiro does; swallow it down. This is something he's come to terms with himself, but it's not something he thinks people should want to see. Should need to.

Worst of all, there's something so sickingly familiar in that statement that has him thinking if he turns around, he's not going to see a grown man standing there.

He's gonna see another boy, with white hair cropped so much shorter and frustration plastered all over that face of his to go with that silly, stupid bandage. Why, Shinji? Why? ]

...That's none of your business. Whatever happened, happened.

[ So stop asking. Please.

Not that his attempts to close it out do much, because no matter how he tightens his lips and lets his knuckles go white, it keeps going. On, and on, to the point the additional sound of steps sound louder than the sound of his own heartbeat in his ears. Ken is saying something again, about his lack of regret, how he'll regret nothing-

He's correct.

Cool and confident. If Ken hadn't been speaking, it almost would have sounded like he was agreeing with Shinjiro himself. The tone doesn't suit the man it comes from, who solidifies a few steps away from them. The gauntness of his bare skin is more corpselike than living person, paper-white and practically glowing under the sickening light.

That is the nature of revenge. Is it not permissible to kill those who are themselves killers?

The silence is stormy. Both the apparitions of Shinjiro and Ken are standing still, breath quiet, eyeballing the newcomer with features that shift between wariness and suspicion. The real one looks away, the moment your meddling cannot be ignored anymore slips out.

The object lodged in his belt slides free, barrel silver under the light of the moon. It clicks, hammer cocks.

Do not fear. This life is, after all, but a stepping stone. Salvation is close at hand.

If Jing Yuan blinks, a flash of panic will grip taut at his chest, as the rippling image of the taller boy promptly darts in front of the smaller one, arm thrown out protectively. For all he feels right now, he'll be able to realize it's not his own. ]

Hey-

[ Shinjiro is abruptly leaning over, realization dawning uncomfortably as if he's forgotten something, and he's hissing even over the din of static and fear. Wait, hold on. He had forgotten, for a brief moment, but this part is rushing back in too much clarity.

...My. Protecting your would-be murderer? Oh, but that's right. Whether or not to this boy's revenge- ]

Old man, quit listening-

[ You're fated to die, regardless. ]

[foresightis2020]

[ Sorry Shinjiro, he definitely can't say nothing.

Can't pretend to be "diplomatic" or stoically stand there, listening as the General. Maybe it is his fault for caring too much.

Not to mention, that kind of response — around the same time as Akihiro's interjection, at that — feels like it conjures something explosively incredulous. Even if his question is phrased, somehow calmly— ]

What do you — ?

[ But, no, everything else is happening so fast that whatever else he is going to question is—thankfully for Shinji?—aborted when there is suddenly a new player to all of this. He doesn't even know why he's reacting this much.

Indeed, upon seeing this new man enter the fray, say those words as if he has any right to speak them make his hackles rise even further.

It's just a memory, he tells himself. Shinjiro is the one who is certainly experiencing the most distress right now. He tells himself, just like always, he shouldn't get too caught up in it. But, seeing the gun held out, he is aware of how much he wants to wrap his hands around the throat of that strange man.

Then, he watches Shinjiro throw himself in the way of the boy he definitely seems to have been poised to be his would-be murderer. He...does understand why he would; the boy is just a child, even if the kid's motivations must certainly be wrong (this is his personal opinion.) ]

...What does he mean, fated to die?

[ ...it's too late.

Jing Yuan definitely heard and Shinjiro's words bidding him to stop listening would have never worked anyway. But, the revelation feels even worse.

All this time...does this mean it applies, even now? Is it something he can do about? ]

cw: suicide mention/ideation

[fullspbar]

[ Whatever hand he might have been extending stops before it even reaches the older man, fingers pulling back as they curl tight into another white-knuckled fist.

Of course it wouldn't be that easy.

The silence takes over again, but only for them; the scene continues on, even as Shinjiro whips his gaze away.

Haven't you been taking those pills for a while now? You don't have much longer.

And even as the apparitions denial is barked with rage, the man himself seems to deflate partially. He feels he should be angrier, like he usually is. Shut the door and lock it, throw away the key, so nobody else has to feel it. But for some reason, he feels just as he had on that day; Tired. Knowing. Like someone who knows he's heading off to the execution grounds, and has already accepted his fate. A abnormal haze of exhaustion. ]

...Like you need me to tell you what that means.

[ In between the arguments in the background, Shinjiro's hand raises to his own face, peering down at it. ]

I ruined that kid's life, all because of something I couldn't control. I wanted it to go away. I knew it wasn't gonna end well, and I didn't care. [ The nightmares, the guilt, the ghosts. They never really left. ] Do you get it, now?

[ He can't hear the commentary right now anymore, himself. Nor see the panic in his own eyes as the figure turns to look at the child behind him, lips mouthing Amada? What?

No, the silence only continues because he seems like he's...bracing himself. Eyes squeezing shut, shoulders sinking lower, because it's coming, and he knows it. Just like his dreams. And just like his dreams-

Shut the fuck up!

-It's loud. The gunshot, that is.

Louder than the agonized gasp of pain, or the noise the vision of himself in front of them makes as he collapses to one knee, shaky hand pressed to his stomach.

It smells like blood. It tastes like it, too. ]

[foresightis2020]

[ This time, Jing Yuan falls silent, watching and listening as each part of this continues as long as it has. Indeed, Shinjiro doesn't even have to answer, since the apparition of that accursed man answers it for him.

The pills were the cause of this condition of his.

Though, he turns his gaze back upon Shinji, who has long since turned away from all of this. Perhaps once more; perhaps once again, but he does not blame him...for a moment he even sees himself reach out, only to pause, letting it fall.

And, well, is it much of a surprise Jing Yuan doesn't blame him when this memory is so terrible to invoke likely a myriad of feelings through the other man? Many unpleasant ones; leaving nothing kind in its wake.

As Shinjiro asks the question, Do you get it now?, Jing Yuan doesn't reply.

Because what can he say to that? He's watching what happens, the little details, the expressions on the reflections' faces. Then, the shout comes.

And...what happens afterwards. Despite the loud noise, he doesn't even flinch, even as he watches that past Shinji fall to one knee. ]

I understand what you wished for. Not much else.

...But, I wonder — did you truly wish for things to end up like this scene, by this man's hands?

[ To fall at the hand of a cruel man, even if the world seemed unbearable. A man he hopes didn't make it out of this alive. The sick, metallic scent of blood is nauseating — even moreso when he knows its origin.

He has more questions, thoughts, and even multiple things to say. But, instead, he waits a little longer still, so that they all don't get swallowed up in the sounds of a memory. ]

cw: suicide ideation

[fullspbar]

[ It's easy enough to bottle these things up, when you know nobody will know. When you get to decide who gets to hear it, if anybody ever will. It's second nature to keep his history locked up tight, keeping everything down in his shadow with him. It's not anybody's problem but his own. Not anybody's burden but his own. It'd be easier if people would learn that and just quit asking, know he's doing them a favor by doing it.

It's not so easy to lock it up, naturally, when the world puts it on stage.

What good does understanding and being forgiven do? Or wishing for something else? These things have already happened, regardless of what he wanted.

The question, itself, does make him twitch. 'Did you truly want to die this way' isn't something most people get asked. ]

....It's too late to be thinking about shit like that. [ His voice is slow. ] What-ifs don't matter anymore. Wouldn't have mattered much to me back then, either. Was already on borrowed time.

[ The loud crunch of a foot slamming into skull hits the air, and he doesn't bother turning this time, to watch himself hit the floor again. He does, however, to look once Ken steps forward.

The Navigator...It's me.

Did he always look this small? He'd always been a short kid, but here, he just looks...tiny. The lines under his eyes are as deep as Shinjiro's, even if the grip on his spear seems to shake minutely.

It's the only reason they let me join, even though I'm a kid.

A sputter. Another kick.

...It doesn't matter now. I'll never get my revenge. His grip falters, and his own gaze falls, face scrunching in a form of despair that makes Shinjiro's features tighten. I don't have any reason to live...what's the point in fighting anymore...?

Now that he hears it again in some clarity, that isn't muffled by the sinking nightmares he usually had, it's almost sickening how similar they are. That he spent so long wallowing in his misery, when he'd made someone the same as himself. That he knew that, too, and maybe that's why he kept running.

If he didn't know, then maybe Ken would have been better off. But would he really have wanted that, to have gotten away with it somehow? ]

...He shouldn't have had to feel like that. [ Ken, not him. Because he'd always put everyone else before himself, even in his darkest hour. ] And I figured I deserved it, 'cause it was my fault.

continued cw for suicidal disc

[foresightis2020]

[ The world may be a stage, but even though the story has been written for the actors whose parts have already been played, what does it mean for the one who unexpectedly becomes called back for an encore?

This memory may be an act shown without permission, though the fact it has been at all simply means that there can be nothing done to take it back.

It isn't easy, watching each part of this dreadful memory — the hurt exacted upon Shinjiro in the past and now — but he never felt too cowardly to look away. Even if the other man utters those words. ]

...Perhaps not. Though, the future is a different story.

[ He speaks this even as the horrid picture of Shinjiro being hit makes him feel ill; angry. There is at least some concern for the child too, stepping in like that — he must be younger than Yanqing, at least. But, whatever happens here, he can't stop it, so he turns his gaze back upon Shinjiro, at hearing those words. ]

Indeed, he was a child who didn't deserve to get caught up in this.

Still, you didn't deserve any of that either.

...What is done is done, I know.

But, everything that happened to you here...it certainly didn't fix anything. It didn't make any of it right.

[ Even if events grow worse to be displayed before them, one thing is certain, however:

Never again will Jing Yuan simply allow himself to be forced to keep from being there for someone who cares about — for being unable to help that person. The guilt of being the one to arrive too late, but to know it all.

Seeing this tightens his resolve, even if unease swims through him. He'll watch it all, every single damned accursed moment of it, and then he won't hold back. ]

continued cw for suicidal disc

[fullspbar]

[ Future, he says. What future?

What kind of future does he have? It's unclear, which is almost worse than the knowledge of his imminent end; he feels he shouldn't be here, and that's been the problem since day one. Why he struggles with magic, with learning it, because what if it's all for naught? Will it really matter, in the end?

But he's not doing it for himself, as per usual. He can think about the blank possibility of his own future all he likes, but he just can't swallow down putting others in danger. He learns for his teammates. He learns for the people here, who look at him with contempt and fear.

I see. So you accept salvation. ]

...It felt like it was.

[ Right. Right for him, who spent so long running and trying to forget when he should have known better. Right for Amada, who deserved closure after everything he's done.

Right, because he was so, so tired of everything. Of feeling the guilt. Of counting his sins.

What a beautiful end to your life. Very well, you shall go first.

But not like this.

Rest peacefully.

There's a beat.

The hammer clicks, barrel pointed at Amada's skull.

Time slows to a near halt for those few seconds, for both the scene itself and his own thoughts.

And then there's a stumble, a grunt, as the hallucination seems to blur and rip at the edges. The gunshot seems loud enough to rattle the eardrums, echoing off the fake walls, accompanied by the spray of blood that spatters near their feet.

Amada hits the floor, covered by Shinjiro's body, and when his hands peel from the older boy's back in singleminded shock, they come away stained in blood.

A hand comes up to slowly press to his own chest, features torn between the stone they want to be and the temptation of it to crumble away. He doesn't need to be telling him this, bare anything he's got to somebody else. It's not Jing Yuan's business, not his burden. And yet. ]

...All the pain I felt felt small in comparison to Amada's. [ Somewhere in the distance, there's the sound of shouts and pounding feet on concrete. He hates the dawning terror in Amada's face, staring at the blood that will no doubt stick under his fingernails. Yet another thing he's done. ] I just didn't wanna leave anything behind for anyone to hang onto. No doubts...no regrets.

Nothing.

continued cw for suicidal disc

[foresightis2020]

[ ...It felt like it was.

Somehow, despite how extraordinarily painful it is to hear Shinjiro utter those words, it feels completely in line with what he expected him to say. Everything evidenced in this scene conveys how little the man truly seems to think of himself in a positive light. The self-blame, the self-hatred...all of it.

It makes him lapse into silence as that wretched man in the memory focuses upon Ken, and Jing Yuan is caught between both scenes — the one of the past, and the one of the present, where Shinjiro seems to be still caught in its depths.

But, moments pass swiftly, and so too does the memory — the ring of a gunshot is clear, startling him with its sound even if he doesn't flinch. It is the confirmation that something horrid happens and it is nothing satisfactory as he sees Shinji hit the ground, having thrown himself in the way. Having taken the bullet for the child, having placing himself as the self-sacrificial element in order to save him — but, Jing Yuan can't blame him for that. He never would wish to.

Yet, Shinjiro keeps talking, raising that hand, even turned away. It shouldn't have been like that, he thinks, for what is not the first time. Jing Yuan already voice as much, and so, he is already talking, in the brief space of moment that they have: ]

It is the wish of all those who die to hope for the same...but...I wonder if those who you might have known would have wanted more than nothing.

[ Shinjiro is always thinking of others. In even this, Jing Yuan believes that it was not for his own sake he did not wish to leave anything behind — regrets or otherwise — as awful as that is to consider.

Though, that feeling hits closer than he might have imagined, as he considers what the other just said, right now. ]

And...I can't help but wish you did not end up or feel so forced into such a corner, to be already considering such things in earnest, with the true threat of the worst coming upon you.

[ Even if Shinji's admission is one that can't be considered an easy one, it is one worth its weight; a burden that Shinjiro seems to have been carrying on his shoulders for some time, and wishing back then that it would pull him under.

He wonders if being in a place like this means that has changed, even a little.

But, a part of him doubts it would be so simple and clean as that either. ]

continued cw for suicidal disc

[fullspbar]

[ 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.

[ Because-

This is...how it should be. ]

continued cw for suicidal disc

[foresightis2020]

[ Jing Yuan had a feeling that Shinjiro had his own loved ones; his personality, no matter how abrasive it was contained hints of deep care that exhibited itself in little ways time and time again.

In a way that makes it ever the more difficult to watch the scene play out before his very eyes, to see the other people spill out in their movements, desiring to try to reach the young man in time. Only to just watch, knowing—feeling—that it was far, far too late.

Perhaps they would have moved on indeed. But only because it is the only choice.

Maybe that is why it is so hurtful, the way Shinjiro tries to reassure them all, just like that. As if nothing will be wrong anymore.

So that's why, he thinks...

The pain would have remained, with a mixture of profound bittersweetness.

For once, Jing Yuan closes his eyes briefly as Shinjiro answers, after seeing the certain fondness evident in his eyes towards the other young man with white hair, and hearing those other words too.

He doesn't think the same. He doesn't think this is how it should have been. ]

...But, it did bother them.

[ Jing Yuan opens his eyes, looking at the various expressions of sorrow, of loss; of mourning clear on their face as Shinjiro bleeds out right in front of them. It is with this that the pain somehow feels like it sits heavier in his chest.

He wonders, briefly, how the one named Aki, that Shinjiro cared ever-so-fondly-for would have ever come to gripes with the loss. ]

And right now, you seeing this at all...it hurts you. Bothers you too, does it not?

[ Shinjiro's expressions have been clear from beginning to end of this. For all of his gruffness, his pain is not something that could have ever been shielded due to his reactions. Because of how deeply it affected him...and for good reason.

This young fellow was watching his own death — and this time, so was someone else who had never been there in the first place. ]

continued cw for suicidal disc

[fullspbar]

[ It feels strange, in a sense. Seeing everyone again in a place that isn't his dreams. He'd gotten used to life at the manor enough, but there are times when he still expects to hear the faint sounds of dorm life. Of Akihiko getting up too damn early in the morning, of Makoto barely shuffling past, of Iori's loud yawning as he drags his feet. Of Koromaru lightly scratching at his door, and Aigis' rapid knocking with her monotone requests for assistance.

...It's not like he'd been there long. Hell, he'd been at the manor longer, at this point. He hears other things, instead. Tsukinaga's singing. Akira's banter with Kurapika as they walk past. Totsuka's guitar ringing from somewhere, anywhere.

...It's a frightening thought, if he dares to dwell, that he's known these people more already than most. Except for Aki. Except for Mitsuru.

The lines begin to blur. The edges of the vision fade with black blotches, like ink staining it out. It comes in time with the barest visions of the other him's eyes closing, every beat blurring and tearing the hallucination to pieces.

When the last thing they see is the red-stained hand slip from Akihiko's grip, there's a pause.

And then it disappears. No sounds, the figures disappearing into the ripples like they were never there in the first place, the eerie green tint going with it.

Because what else can someone who's gone remember?

The forest itself seems still, to punctuate how the question seems to have rattled Shinjiro. He doesn't speak for a long time, at war with himself as the seconds tick by with nothing but the steady fall of snow to accompany them.

He doesn't want to talk anymore. Doesn't want to think about it anymore. Feels the need to go back to the manor and find himself a damn cigarette for the first time in months, raid the cupboard for liquor he's never touched, and sit in the disconnected emptiness of his room for a while. He's never been the type to drown his sorrows, but in the moment, he can understand the feeling. ]

...I don't know.

[ Partially a truth, partially a lie. ]

That's not something most people have to think about. [ The breath feels shallow in his lungs. He's not a child; this sort of thing shouldn't bother him. And yet, being forced to face everything he's been running from, he feels like there's too much water in the air for him to breathe. ] When you're gone, it doesn't matter. It's over. That's how it was supposed to be.

[ How it should be, like he said. But that's not how it is, now. He walks. He talks. He breathes. He still has the nightmares, the insomnia, the cough in his lungs. ]

And even if it does...what's the damn point? [ A grit of the teeth. ] It's already happened. I couldn't change it, even if I wanted to. And I don't even know if there's a point to fixing anything here. Even if-

[ Even if- ]

...Even if I was gonna live. But I don't even know if I am.

continued cw for suicidal disc

[foresightis2020]

[ ...Just like that, it's all gone. It's funny, how jarring that is, like how it first fully emerged, but it is also simultaneously a relief. The image of that young white-haired male holding Shinjiro as he lays there, bleeding, is forever ingrained in his mind. But when he blinks, he still sees the young man standing there before him...alive.

Safe.

But, there is darkness enshrined in that heart of his. Those eyes steeped in a doubtless deluge of sorrow and regret.

He says he does not know. Jing Yuan thinks Shinji understands it full well enough, but his heart wavers all the same in his answer. For a moment, his gaze is gentle; not filled with pity, but a brief understanding, of a desire to not wish to speak an answer straightforwardly when there is deep turmoil in one's heart.

So, in the face of everything, Jing Yuan makes a declaration from his heart, no matter what he has been witness to. ]

...I am glad that it wasn't final.

That you are still here. That we have had the opportunity to meet. That what happened ended up not going as it 'was supposed to be' in ensuring your existence had truly came to an end at that time.

[ Jing Yuan speaks those words, even if Shinjiro feels pain in living.

But, he deserves a second chance. He deserves to live. To face what it means to keep walking forward. And as bold as it is, he thinks he deserves to grasp happiness in those hands of his, and never let it go, no matter how difficult or hardly deserving the idea may seem to him.

So he steps forward again. ]

I know they would have wished for you to have had a second chance.

As daunting as it is, I believe that there is still an opportunity for you to grasp it. And that you should, with all your might — even amidst the uncertainty, even with all of those regrets. Even with all of that has come to pass.

You must also understand...this isn't like before. You do not have to face it all alone. Not anymore.

If you believe otherwise at this time, I will not be surprised; altering one's path is not easy, and you will carry those regrets for far longer than you ever imagined, perhaps.

Still, I will do everything in my power to convince you to at least take that first step. To reach for that new future, uncertain as it is.

And beyond what has been shown in that vision. So, how about it?

[ Jing Yuan will reach a hand out to Shinjiro. ]

continued cw for suicidal disc

[fullspbar]

[ It feels too quiet now, almost. It lets the swirl of emotion dig it's claws in, crawl under his skin and hover in the chill of his blood. Even the wind doesn't seem loud enough to be noticeable, just him and Jing Yuan and the cold that lingers both inside and out.

He's afraid to look up and see the look on the older man's face. He doesn't want to know what it is, even if part of him knows. He's never wanted pity, and Jing Yuan has never seemed the type to give it; but the understanding feels almost worse.

The declaration has him jerking in shock, however, and he can't stop himself from looking up with disbelief crawling over the cracked plaster of his features.

Because...well, he...how would he have expected that from anybody here? He feels they barely know him, barely know any of them. What has Shinjiro done, besides hide away and cook a few meals? He doesn't socialize like the rest of them. He prefers to work alone, most of the time. He tried hard to put some kind of wall, keep some kind of distance, just like he had back home- because it was supposed to be the same.

And now Jing Yuan sounds like Akihiko, striding up to his hiding place every now with a purpose even despite his rebuffs. Stubborn, annoyingly so.

He'd spent all that time talking about how he'd gotten so strong, how he could get stronger. Had he cried, after everything? At his funeral? In front of his grave, when they'd put him in the earth that was as cold as the night of October 4th?

God, he hopes he didn't. The thought of causing him to cry again, after everything, settles hot like a burning coal in the pit of his stomach.

Maybe that's why every word makes it harder to swallow, a lump growing in his throat and drawing it so tight it's hard to breathe. Shinjiro's not going to cry, not when it was all his fault to begin with. Even if his lips purse so hard it feels like they're sewn shut, and even if his eyes seem to start to sting, since he can blame it on the whip of the icy wind.

If he focuses on steadying the tremble of his shoulders, maybe he can pretend he can't hear the faint crack in his own voice. ]

...You barely even know me, old man.

[ But he's still here, despite it all. Perhaps that's what he finds so confusing, so frustrating. ]

I get it. [ He hates that he sounds so small.. ] ....I know they probably did. But I didn't want to think about it; I didn't want them to think that, either.

[ He had ran back then, too, when Akihiko had begged him to stay so he could support him. But he refused. He felt he deserved no such thing, and he still feels it now, even after everything. ]

...I gave everyone shit for runnin' from their problems when I was doing the exact same thing. I wanted them to have better than me. [ Even the people here. Akira, Mikaela, Ahito- ] I didn't want to put in the effort here, either, 'cause I didn't know if I was even gonna be here when everything's said'n done. I still don't.

[ He looks at the hand, conflict clear in his eyes, his voice, the tremble of his fingers. ]

...I woulda liked more time. Just...a little while longer. [ It's painful to admit, looking back. Just a few more days. Just a few more goodbyes. Going for a walk to the shrine, settling his debts, talking to them all. ] I don't know if I can make up for it here. Alone or not.

[ And yet, he doesn't step away. A few terse seconds pass, heartbeat smattering against the glass curve of his ribs, before his hand lifts.

Hesitantly, with calloused hands and an uncertain grip, he takes it. ]

I'll....think about it. [ It's a step, perhaps, in a direction he originally tried to divert from all this time. ] ...'S not like I've got any idea where to start, anyway.

continued cw for suicidal disc

[foresightis2020]

[ Jing Yuan has a knack for being stubborn in his own way. He can be harshly so, when a situation requires it, but he can also but gently so, when his heart calls for it.

This is a situation in which it certainly does — seeing the way Shinji reacts, no, startles in shock is more or less something that indicates what he is saying is affecting him in some way. Which, momentarily makes Jing Yuan hope it is for the best; those countless little moments, those interactions have added up, after all. They have had meaning, to make him treasure that they met.

The young man's brash attitude is comfortable and now rather familiar, even if he doesn't know the entirety of his life story, but certainly knows an important detail now. A presence that that he cannot consider insignificant, and so, just like this, it feels so easy to reach out to him. Indeed, Jing Yuan can only listen as Shinjiro speaks once more...his own expression open and considering. Some of the words sound not too dissimilar to what Shinji spoke earlier, with that dark despair, though they are certainly different.

There is that quiet hope buried underneath that darkness, that Jing Yuan suspected was always there.

Once Shinji grasps a hold of his hand, somehow still stubbornly warm in the frigid cold, his own grip is firm and solid. What Jing Yuan hopes to be a steady anchor in the midst of what must be turmoil in an uncertain heart. ]

I am not surprised you do not know where to begin.

[ Looking ahead must be overwhelming, and even he does not know of immediate solutions. But, he can think of possible ones. ]

Still, we do have the Sage and a new assistant. Perhaps you can speak to them — they may have something in store that could help you. And, if they do not have a solution, or even if it is far too temporary...I will gladly still do my best to help you find one.

After all, it is as I said...

[ Jing Yuan speaks, stepping forward to reach out with his free hand to give him something like a brief, but gentle one-armed hug. He has done this before, for others he has cared about, so it seems natural for him to grant him one in a situation like this. Though, he is already leaning back all the same. ]

It is not something you must do solely on your own.

But, for now, thinking upon it is indeed a good start.