His confrontation with Justin hadn't gone well. That much isn't really a surprise. It's not even all that uncommon for him to bicker with others. The real surprise was that Justin managed to make a dent so thoroughly as he did. No one had ever had the nerve to even bring the topic up, ask him if he was hungry, let alone ask him whey he wasn't doing anything about it. And with all the meadous, with Mom, right there, that sickly feeling just gets worse.
It had to have been on purpose. Even without factoring Mom, or anything else, Justin should have known in this world at least what problems that would cause. Justin should know, even without realizing how tight his cage is, that even if he did want to...
He shakes his head and paces further, driving trenches into beach sand. He'd take to the cliffs but too many flock there, more even than the shore, which is at least spaced out over almost the entire length of the meadous. He's been going back and forth, but upon seeing Mom's reply, of feeling like the words were hands around his throat, he couldn't make himself linger in the meadous long.
The ache in his chest is too much right now. Almost too much to keep this up. He stops pacing, sinking down into the sand and simply stares out at where the blue sky meets the sea, pretending he's somewhere else.
It doesn't take long to notice that Zangetsu is not returning to the bulletin board. He comes back only once, but she doesn't notice any other messages left in his wake--and from there he seems to retreat to the beach and... simply stay there, as far as she can sense. There's a part of her that worries she shouldn't have chimed in, but she couldn't bear to watch that conversation play out any further.
But that doesn't mean she's willing to leave him to his thoughts, either. She gives it a bit of time, allowing him that distance to sort himself out before she goes to find him. He's just about where she thought he'd be, and it doesn't take her much time to come up close to where he sits. He might not be able to sense her, but she's very slow and deliberate about the way she comes up to sit beside him, settling down onto the sand as if she'd already received an invitation.
But she doesn't say anything yet, not for several minutes. In part, it's nice to sit here with him on the shore; but if this were a peaceful gathering, there wouldn't be that anxious tension between them. Eventually she finds the words to speak up, even if she's not certain they're the right ones.
He can't sense her, but at some point he's simply aware of her presence, careful like she's trying not to startle and send him off. He listens as she settles down by him. He notices the ends of her clothing from the corner of his eyes. She brings a sense of comfort with her, but, as always, she brings other things too, things they don't speak about.
He aches. If he left her behind or told her to go, it wouldn't be so bad, but he can't bear to do it and he's not sure for whose sake that is.
He can't make himself speak either, but at least she seems alright with the quiet. He hovers somewhere between the anxiety of knowing what she must be thinking about, and the relief that she's here and she's allowing that silence to be. When she does speak, it's about the same sort of conflict.
But his breath rushes out in a sort of wounded manner all the same. His knees draw in and his nails dig in through his jeans. His head bows until his hair is a complete curtain and it's only too late that he realizes this non-answer is telling enough. Guilt is devoured and is devouring in a cycle of bigger and bigger monsters within.
He can't joke it off. He can't lie. He can't tell her she'll be safe because he can't bear to acknowledge that might not be true. Finally, with a raw voice he says, "It's not as hard as it could be." Because at least that he knows is true.
Not as hard as it could be... She almost seems to understand that. A small smile finds its way to her lips, but it's marred by the way her brow creases with worry. She almost looks like she's grimacing for a moment before she refocuses on the distant horizon.
"I always thought that... maybe not saying anything might make it easier."
It probably doesn't, but it seemed easier. Now she realizes that maybe that was just easier for her... not as much for him.
She lets the silence creep back in between them, in no small part because she's not sure how to follow that admission up. There's more to say--a while lot more, but the words don't seem to find their way past her throat. Finally, she settles on something a little easier:
"I'm always amazed at how strong you are... All this time, and you haven't slipped up even once." For someone that's part Hollow, that seems like an impossible feat of mental willpower. She's not sure how he does it. Maybe it really isn't as hard as she thinks it is... but she doesn't suspect that's the truth.
Instead, her voice grows a little quieter and a little smaller, as she adds, "I think I'd be really scared, if I was in your place. More... of myself than of anything else."
He doesn't flinch, but he tenses. Does it make things easier? He doesn't know about that. He can barely touch the topic himself. Even now he feels muted.
Her follow up isn't the response to it he'd expected though. His head lifts up, eyes wide and brows knotted. Strong. He feels winded. He doesn't feel very strong right now.
Not even while listening to her admit something like that. Far from it. His look softens and then he looks back away.
"I wasn't sure you knew," he admits. "Even if I mentioned what others were afraid of, you could easily say it was just the wrong impression. That it didn't actually apply." And he wasn't sure he'd have ever really told her. They could both pretend.
"I wasn't graceful, figuring it all out. But, during all that, I told myself that it didn't have to matter. I mean, Hollows go insane right? But I could think. I could... choose. And if that was true, maybe I could go--" Go home. "See the outside someday. Maybe. If all that meant a little bit of holding back, it'd be worth it." There's a pause. "It didn't work out that way but I've already got a streak going. Seems dumb to stop now." Simplifying it. "Once you've got a plan though what's to be afraid of?"
"I've noticed," she returns just as quietly. "The way you flinch sometimes--or the way you grow very still, when I get near." It's been difficult not to notice those moments, even if she's moved past them like she hasn't. Again, she thought maybe it would get easier if she didn't call attention to his struggle. She's not so sure that's the case anymore. It's only made it difficult for him in other ways...
He rehashes all the ways that he's different from normal hollows, and she nods along, her gaze drawn from the horizon and over to him. She smiles gently, her heart aching for him in more ways than one. Sadness. Pride. Sympathy. Hope.
"That's what I mean," she says with a small laugh. "Making a plan at all... Sticking to it, even when it doesn't go exactly as you imagined. It takes a lot of strength to choose. A lot of willpower to know what you want by instinct--but to want something different, something more by choice."
She reaches over to him, brushing his hair back with one hand and affectionately tucking it behind his ear. "I thought you should know... I didn't mean you, with what I wrote earlier. I wanted you to know that I know you're trying, and that I admire you for every day that you choose to keep this path."
There's a flash of something that could very well be taken as guilt, or at least unhappiness, that she apparently noticed that not once, but again and again. For one reason or another, that's pretty shameful.
But she doesn't look at it that way. Not if the way she's smiling says anything, and he thinks it does. She laughs bright even when she's hurting. And she is, isn't she? Over this and... a lot of other things.
It's with a rough and quiet voice he says, "It's what we're good at. Ichigo and I." Choosing, making things happening out of accordance to rules or fate, pushing on. Even when they fail they come back around... or Ichigo does.
He doesn't pull away or tense so hard this time, as she runs her hand through his hair. It still hurts, and she could probably spot it in the corner of his eyes, but he closes them too for a moment to try and relax under her hand and simply feel. He gives a cautious glance then, and after a good long pause, he dares to shuffle over slightly, a little closer to her.
"You must have been pretty afraid, when it was happening to you. If you really remember all that, I don't know." He spares another quick glance her way. "Ichigo was afraid. Sometimes I think that's another part of what made me so angry, that he doesn't deal with any part of this but he can take it upon himself to be scared of me. But that's a moot argument now. What I wanted say was that, back then, finding out I was connected to you, it helped me. Knowing all that was the one thing to prove to me that I've still got just as much right to be here as anyone, because I would've been here no matter what. And now here you are. With Ichigo, I'd always see what I was afraid of when it was too late. But you actually give me a reason to try." He wishes so bad he had his mask. He wishes his voice sounded less choked. "I was running out of those, before you came. Which is why, whether you had meant that to me or not, I wanted to be sure that the next I saw you, I could face you properly." Which he's not doing now, but she did come to him.
He scoots closer and says those things that make her heart hurt all the more for him. That Ichigo had been afraid; That he had been running out of reasons to try--and that she had given him a new one. The urge to hug him is a strong one, and she succumbs to it by reaching her arm gently around his shoulder and pulling him closer to clear that last bit of space between them. Close enough that he can rest his head on her shoulder if he likes.
"I... do remember some things from back then," she admits, quiet though her voice may be. "I remember the darkness, and... I remember some part of me being scared. But I remember being sure that someone would help me. I didn't know who at the time, but I knew... If I could just hold on long enough, someone would be there to save me."
"Sometimes all we need is that one small hope to give us a reason to hold on. And if that's what you need, then... I'm so glad to give you that. But I'm not going to judge you. We can't control our instincts. We only control what we do with them... And I'm already proud of you." On that topic, she doesn't feel that he needs to push himself any further. And more importantly, she doesn't feel that he needs to judge himself for how far he's come.
"You don't have to find a way to face me properly--whatever that's supposed to mean. You can just face me as you are, and I'll accept that. And if it's not where you want to be, then I'll help get you there, so you can keep facing yourself. So you can find the person that you want to be."
The space between them closes up, that last safety net and divide gone in one. He swallows done the fear and stays in her grip. Slowly, hesitantly, he takes the unspoken invitation and leans his head upon her shoulder. When she tells of darkness he remembers his own, the spaces in between, the places he used to live, came to exist in more than any place else. He never thought he could be saved, but he hoped he might be able to save himself. One way or another. But still, a hope nevertheless.
It's barely much of one. He doesn't get to keep her. She absolutely doesn't get to keep him, if she'd really want to when faced with all she's missed so much. By that time though, it won't matter. Once he's back with Ichigo, for all he hates the restriction of that life, that very same restriction does offer some small peace of mind. And he'll get to see her... every day, even if he doesn't get to say a thing, even he feels a million miles away, he'll see her.
It's hard to swallow, the pride she claims to have. Even harder are the words that follow. He hasn't been able to face her for about as long as she's been gone. Since she died. Since they fought fisher and swore to beat him, and that only then... but then so many things got in the way. He became himself and he forgot what he was scowling for. The world came back to bite. Finally, he found her again, and he's been back and forth since. Is he where he wants to be? Is he really the person he wants to be?
"I don't know. I thought I liked who I was. Even if no one else did." He falls quiet, the 'but' settled in there clear as day all the same. "... Things haven't gone well for me. But I want them to. I don't want you to be afraid of me." He doesn't want a few people to be afraid him, if he could admit that much. "Maybe it's not about facing you anymore. I just know I don't want to see the day where you can't face me. I could... bear it. But I don't want to. I want to believe your pride isn't misplaced. Maybe if I knew the lines I could be more certain what not to cross. Or if I was sure I could get us home faster than anything could happen."
His words tug on her heart so much. He doesn't want her to be afraid of him... The words sit on her tongue, but she can't say them. She can't promise that she won't ever be afraid of him. That's not a promise that either of them would believe.
But he goes on, and there's one thing that she's sure that she can promise him. She rests her head against his and speaks quietly to him. "You won't have to bear it. There's no line that you could cross that I wouldn't be able to face you. I'm not ashamed of the person you are. And I know, no matter what happens, you'll keep trying to be the best that you can."
He wouldn't believe her, that's true. She's better saving those words.
He's just not sure he believes what she says either. Even with his head on her shoulder and her leaning on him. He stares out and says, "Really?" He sounds doubtful and tired but not angry.
"I've hurt Ichigo you know. I did it on purpose, when I was angry. I made him scared. And together we've hurt one of his friends. How do you know I haven't already crossed the line and I just haven't told you?"
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ninetydegrees
[After The Soul Bulletin]
on 2018-10-19 01:33 am (UTC)It had to have been on purpose. Even without factoring Mom, or anything else, Justin should have known in this world at least what problems that would cause. Justin should know, even without realizing how tight his cage is, that even if he did want to...
He shakes his head and paces further, driving trenches into beach sand. He'd take to the cliffs but too many flock there, more even than the shore, which is at least spaced out over almost the entire length of the meadous. He's been going back and forth, but upon seeing Mom's reply, of feeling like the words were hands around his throat, he couldn't make himself linger in the meadous long.
The ache in his chest is too much right now. Almost too much to keep this up. He stops pacing, sinking down into the sand and simply stares out at where the blue sky meets the sea, pretending he's somewhere else.
no subject
on 2018-10-19 01:50 am (UTC)But that doesn't mean she's willing to leave him to his thoughts, either. She gives it a bit of time, allowing him that distance to sort himself out before she goes to find him. He's just about where she thought he'd be, and it doesn't take her much time to come up close to where he sits. He might not be able to sense her, but she's very slow and deliberate about the way she comes up to sit beside him, settling down onto the sand as if she'd already received an invitation.
But she doesn't say anything yet, not for several minutes. In part, it's nice to sit here with him on the shore; but if this were a peaceful gathering, there wouldn't be that anxious tension between them. Eventually she finds the words to speak up, even if she's not certain they're the right ones.
"It's... hard for you, isn't it?"
no subject
on 2018-10-19 02:17 am (UTC)He aches. If he left her behind or told her to go, it wouldn't be so bad, but he can't bear to do it and he's not sure for whose sake that is.
He can't make himself speak either, but at least she seems alright with the quiet. He hovers somewhere between the anxiety of knowing what she must be thinking about, and the relief that she's here and she's allowing that silence to be. When she does speak, it's about the same sort of conflict.
But his breath rushes out in a sort of wounded manner all the same. His knees draw in and his nails dig in through his jeans. His head bows until his hair is a complete curtain and it's only too late that he realizes this non-answer is telling enough. Guilt is devoured and is devouring in a cycle of bigger and bigger monsters within.
He can't joke it off. He can't lie. He can't tell her she'll be safe because he can't bear to acknowledge that might not be true. Finally, with a raw voice he says, "It's not as hard as it could be." Because at least that he knows is true.
no subject
on 2018-10-19 02:28 am (UTC)"I always thought that... maybe not saying anything might make it easier."
It probably doesn't, but it seemed easier. Now she realizes that maybe that was just easier for her... not as much for him.
She lets the silence creep back in between them, in no small part because she's not sure how to follow that admission up. There's more to say--a while lot more, but the words don't seem to find their way past her throat. Finally, she settles on something a little easier:
"I'm always amazed at how strong you are... All this time, and you haven't slipped up even once." For someone that's part Hollow, that seems like an impossible feat of mental willpower. She's not sure how he does it. Maybe it really isn't as hard as she thinks it is... but she doesn't suspect that's the truth.
Instead, her voice grows a little quieter and a little smaller, as she adds, "I think I'd be really scared, if I was in your place. More... of myself than of anything else."
no subject
on 2018-10-19 05:00 am (UTC)Her follow up isn't the response to it he'd expected though. His head lifts up, eyes wide and brows knotted. Strong. He feels winded. He doesn't feel very strong right now.
Not even while listening to her admit something like that. Far from it. His look softens and then he looks back away.
"I wasn't sure you knew," he admits. "Even if I mentioned what others were afraid of, you could easily say it was just the wrong impression. That it didn't actually apply." And he wasn't sure he'd have ever really told her. They could both pretend.
"I wasn't graceful, figuring it all out. But, during all that, I told myself that it didn't have to matter. I mean, Hollows go insane right? But I could think. I could... choose. And if that was true, maybe I could go--" Go home. "See the outside someday. Maybe. If all that meant a little bit of holding back, it'd be worth it." There's a pause. "It didn't work out that way but I've already got a streak going. Seems dumb to stop now." Simplifying it. "Once you've got a plan though what's to be afraid of?"
no subject
on 2018-10-21 04:39 am (UTC)He rehashes all the ways that he's different from normal hollows, and she nods along, her gaze drawn from the horizon and over to him. She smiles gently, her heart aching for him in more ways than one. Sadness. Pride. Sympathy. Hope.
"That's what I mean," she says with a small laugh. "Making a plan at all... Sticking to it, even when it doesn't go exactly as you imagined. It takes a lot of strength to choose. A lot of willpower to know what you want by instinct--but to want something different, something more by choice."
She reaches over to him, brushing his hair back with one hand and affectionately tucking it behind his ear. "I thought you should know... I didn't mean you, with what I wrote earlier. I wanted you to know that I know you're trying, and that I admire you for every day that you choose to keep this path."
no subject
on 2018-10-21 07:14 am (UTC)But she doesn't look at it that way. Not if the way she's smiling says anything, and he thinks it does. She laughs bright even when she's hurting. And she is, isn't she? Over this and... a lot of other things.
It's with a rough and quiet voice he says, "It's what we're good at. Ichigo and I." Choosing, making things happening out of accordance to rules or fate, pushing on. Even when they fail they come back around... or Ichigo does.
He doesn't pull away or tense so hard this time, as she runs her hand through his hair. It still hurts, and she could probably spot it in the corner of his eyes, but he closes them too for a moment to try and relax under her hand and simply feel. He gives a cautious glance then, and after a good long pause, he dares to shuffle over slightly, a little closer to her.
"You must have been pretty afraid, when it was happening to you. If you really remember all that, I don't know." He spares another quick glance her way. "Ichigo was afraid. Sometimes I think that's another part of what made me so angry, that he doesn't deal with any part of this but he can take it upon himself to be scared of me. But that's a moot argument now. What I wanted say was that, back then, finding out I was connected to you, it helped me. Knowing all that was the one thing to prove to me that I've still got just as much right to be here as anyone, because I would've been here no matter what. And now here you are. With Ichigo, I'd always see what I was afraid of when it was too late. But you actually give me a reason to try." He wishes so bad he had his mask. He wishes his voice sounded less choked. "I was running out of those, before you came. Which is why, whether you had meant that to me or not, I wanted to be sure that the next I saw you, I could face you properly." Which he's not doing now, but she did come to him.
no subject
on 2018-10-23 01:41 am (UTC)"I... do remember some things from back then," she admits, quiet though her voice may be. "I remember the darkness, and... I remember some part of me being scared. But I remember being sure that someone would help me. I didn't know who at the time, but I knew... If I could just hold on long enough, someone would be there to save me."
"Sometimes all we need is that one small hope to give us a reason to hold on. And if that's what you need, then... I'm so glad to give you that. But I'm not going to judge you. We can't control our instincts. We only control what we do with them... And I'm already proud of you." On that topic, she doesn't feel that he needs to push himself any further. And more importantly, she doesn't feel that he needs to judge himself for how far he's come.
"You don't have to find a way to face me properly--whatever that's supposed to mean. You can just face me as you are, and I'll accept that. And if it's not where you want to be, then I'll help get you there, so you can keep facing yourself. So you can find the person that you want to be."
no subject
on 2018-10-23 12:31 pm (UTC)It's barely much of one. He doesn't get to keep her. She absolutely doesn't get to keep him, if she'd really want to when faced with all she's missed so much. By that time though, it won't matter. Once he's back with Ichigo, for all he hates the restriction of that life, that very same restriction does offer some small peace of mind. And he'll get to see her... every day, even if he doesn't get to say a thing, even he feels a million miles away, he'll see her.
It's hard to swallow, the pride she claims to have. Even harder are the words that follow. He hasn't been able to face her for about as long as she's been gone. Since she died. Since they fought fisher and swore to beat him, and that only then... but then so many things got in the way. He became himself and he forgot what he was scowling for. The world came back to bite. Finally, he found her again, and he's been back and forth since. Is he where he wants to be? Is he really the person he wants to be?
"I don't know. I thought I liked who I was. Even if no one else did." He falls quiet, the 'but' settled in there clear as day all the same. "... Things haven't gone well for me. But I want them to. I don't want you to be afraid of me." He doesn't want a few people to be afraid him, if he could admit that much. "Maybe it's not about facing you anymore. I just know I don't want to see the day where you can't face me. I could... bear it. But I don't want to. I want to believe your pride isn't misplaced. Maybe if I knew the lines I could be more certain what not to cross. Or if I was sure I could get us home faster than anything could happen."
no subject
on 2019-01-25 03:34 am (UTC)But he goes on, and there's one thing that she's sure that she can promise him. She rests her head against his and speaks quietly to him. "You won't have to bear it. There's no line that you could cross that I wouldn't be able to face you. I'm not ashamed of the person you are. And I know, no matter what happens, you'll keep trying to be the best that you can."
no subject
on 2019-01-31 08:51 am (UTC)He's just not sure he believes what she says either. Even with his head on her shoulder and her leaning on him. He stares out and says, "Really?" He sounds doubtful and tired but not angry.
"I've hurt Ichigo you know. I did it on purpose, when I was angry. I made him scared. And together we've hurt one of his friends. How do you know I haven't already crossed the line and I just haven't told you?"