juice_factory | (no subject)

Leadership is hardly anything new to Kiyotaka, even before it was unexpectedly thrust on the two of them in the worst way. Unfortunately, loss and hardship have been common themes in his life, too. It doesn't get any easier, tallying the deaths and failures that he feels are his own responsibility. Each one stands out just as clearly as the last. Keeping a small flame of hope alive even despite all that is the most arduous task of all, and without Hajime to share the burden, he would have given up long ago.

He doesn't know what he'd do without him at this point, and he hates thinking about it. Instead he chooses to focus on the fact that they are both still at each other's side and cherish the few moments of what passes as peace that they can share alone together. When the pressures of leadership are lifted just slightly enough for Kiyotaka to remember that he gets scared and tired and lonesome. To remember that he's still human.

His head droops a little as he mentally prepares himself for what he knows is going to be another sleepless night, but he doesn't mind those so much when he has good company. He taps the back of his heel against the broken pillar he's chosen as a seat, exhaling slowly.

"You can sleep, you know. I'll wake you if anything happens." The usual offer, though he knows it's nothing more than a cheap way to break silence that would otherwise be maddening.

For whatever reason, Hajime felt particularly nostalgic this night, as he looked out over the wasteland that had once been a bustling city--it had felt chaotic at the time, but upon reflection it seemed blessedly quaint. He looked up to the torn, corrupted sky, and let out a small, wistful sigh.

"To think of all the times we've said that to one another. Always so eager to show each other up, and be more noble... we'd even get in arguments over it, remember?"

Thinking on the past too much was a dangerous route, sure to send one into a spiral of regret and longing for what once was if not careful.

With the present so harsh and the future so unclear, though, wasn't it all right to just spend one moment thinking fondly of things? Just for a short while.

"Hhhah."

A weary expulsion of air was the closest he could get to laughter these days, but at least it was a genuine show of good spirit on the rare occasion someone could coax it out of him. He put too more thought into the past than he cared to let on, torn between happy memories being a blissful refuge or an agonizing reminder of what he couldn't go back to. Bittersweet to the strongest degree, that's what it was.

"I remember... we were both so determined to carry all the weight on our own. We work better as equals." He rubbed a calloused hand down the side of his face, closing his eyes. It was easier to conjure up old images of the past that way.

"It went against that promise we made to each other... Do you remember that, too? That we would face everything together."

Back when the most they had to worry about was unwanted bodily transformations. Horrific as that had been it seemed like child's play in the face of everything they'd witnessed since then.

Edited (MIDNIGHT REDUNDANCY) 2014-07-01 06:26 (UTC)

He ran his hand--the one that was still truly his--through his hair, pulling his hat off with it. Some distant relative of a smile tugged at his lips, usually so drawn and stern in expression. He would have given anything to go back to the days when that promise was made, but such thoughts were so redundant and pointless that he couldn't even be bothered to dwell on it.

"Still, we've kept it, through all this, haven't we?"

For just an instant, he sagged, leaning one shoulder against Kiyotaka. His eyes closed, and he just felt his friend's presence, his weight, his warmth.

"After all these years, that's the one thing we've kept... a promise stronger than anything else..."

The one thing they'd kept was the thing Kiyotaka was most terrified of losing. It was all he had left to lose. The mere possibility was enough to put him on edge, and all he could do to calm down was reassure himself in every way that Hajime was there safe and sound beside him. He turned his head to bury his face in the crook of the other man's neck, breathing in his familiar scent and taking comfort in the threadbare softness of that scarf of his.

"Mmh. This might sound foolish, but some days I keep going just to hold up my end of it. So I don't know what I would do if you broke it."

For a long moment, Hajime remained silent, breath soft in Kiyotaka's unkempt hair. It had been something he'd thought innumerable times over the years--he had to go on, if only for the sake of his dear friend, his one true companion and remnant of the past, who he couldn't bear to let down, not this time. Somehow, though, the reverse never once occurred to him, that Kiyotaka could as well only hold on for the sake of the promise. That he, so weak and desperate, could be all that held someone so important in this world...

For an instant, he thought of what a life without Kiyotaka could be like. His heart recoiled, and he swallowed hard.

"Do you think... that makes us cowards?" His voice was soft, a bare whisper. "Living just out of fear... the fear of shame, and disappointment... if it's for someone else, is it worthy?"

He did often feel like a coward. But he had never thought of Hajime as the same, so hearing him give voice to the concerns that weighed on Kiyotaka's heart evoked a dull ache within it. He was silent for a long moment, pressing deeper into the scarf.

"...No," he answered at last, voice muffled. He pulled his face away just enough to look up at Hajime's face, just barely illuminated enough by what moonlight shone through the distorted rifts in the sky to make out. Not that Kiyotaka particularly needed to see it; it was etched boldly into his memory through both vision and touch.

He repeated himself, more firmly. "No, that's not it. The cowards are those who abandon others at a time like this and live only for themselves. We're... the opposite."

But he sure as hell didn't feel like any hero.

"We are each other's strength." Weren't they? Believing something as naive as that made life a little more bearable.

Hajime's throat was tight, sore, from holding back the surge of emotions that wanted to burst out and make a fool of him. He spend so much of his time, these days, feeling helpless and weak. So little of what he did felt like it mattered.

But here, looking at him, was the testament to what he did have. He had someone so strong, and brave, and true, who was still going, for him and because of him. His spirit didn't burn in the same way as it did all those years ago, but it remained, stalwart and deep. It was showed him there was still something left, and what he needed to guide.

As they sat there, leaning against each other, each supporting the other, he knew all those words couldn't convey how he felt, not even close.

So instead of saying the words, he kissed Kiyotaka, and put as much as he could into it.

Keeping an upbeat and positive attitude was just a part of daily life when one watched over a group of those whose spirits had been crushed. But with Hajime it was more than just obligatory lip service. He made Kiyotaka genuinely want to hold on and keep going, if only so he could spend one more day at his side, no matter what trials lay ahead. Maybe it was a little selfish, but if he lost Hajime too...

...well. He likely wouldn't have to miss him for too long.

But right now they were together, their hearts and souls and presently even their tongues so intrinsically intertwined they may as well have been one being. He sought out Hajime's still-living hand with his own, squeezing it with a silent plea. Be with me, stay with me.

The touch of Kiyotaka's hand instantly drew the desired reaction from Hajime's, his fingers entwining themselves in the others. Their hands bound together, just as they were, and he never wanted them to come apart.

For an instant, he would have let the world finally crumble fully to dust, if they could just stay together like this forever.

Even as they broke for air, Hajime left his eyes closed, blocking out all but the touch of his one true companion, envisioning a world where they could be without fear or loss, only one another.

Kiyotaka, he knew, was the only person who could never hurt him. Nothing, in this world, was more worth his protection.

Moments like these were the most dangerous of all, when both of them were dead to the world. When their world was nothing but one another. There were other sentries about, sure. But they were all spaced around the perimeters of the camp. Some unfriendly creature would find them vulnerable like this long before their allies, and Kiyotaka wouldn't even protest having his life cut short if it meant he was feeling this alive rather than drag it on feeling hollow.

Despite that, it was fearful instinct that caused Kiyotaka to glance out into the dark as they parted, but it was only for a fraction of a second before he devoted all of his attention to Hajime once more. He took his face in his free hand, just barely brushing the tips of their noses together, and offered up a more sincere smile than anybody else alive had the privilege of seeing.

"...I remember," he whispered, continuing with the night's theme of nostalgic heartache, "when I realized I was in love with you." But he never figured out when the feeling took root in the first place.

A small huff of air imitated a laugh. "It was when you got that knock on the head from that Armight?"

It would be just their luck, wouldn't it, for something to attack now and punish them for their selfish moment of indulgence. Most often, such a possibility scared away these instances, making Hajime too afraid to take what few moments of pleasure they were offered. He didn't want his selfishness to get anyone hurt, after all.

Yet, the heart was the strongest thing this ragtag band had on their side. It needed connections, touches, reminders, and Hajime hated how in order to protect he felt the need to keep a distance. That wasn't how people were meant to be.

"No, it was before that."

Although a blow like that ~~killed him, because Hope's Peak kids have fragile craniums~~ certainly made him disoriented enough to say more than a few embarrassing things that he preferred not to think about. But he saw the comment for the self-deprecation it was - Kiyotaka, once so clueless and unable to read people, had definitely grown on the emotional front. He'd seen the full spectrum of emotion in the survivors they came across, whether it be grief or impotent rage at the cruelty of the world or relief and joy at even the smallest miracles, in those who were unashamed in expressing themselves and those who tried to mask it. Kiyotaka himself, who once loved and mourned so openly, had lost enough to finally close himself off from everybody else, and even had nights when he shut himself off from Hajime, though they were few and far between.

But for the most part, when it came to Hajime, he was as open with his emotions as he knew how to be anymore. As far as he was concerned, they may as well have shared one heart between them, and that meant no hiding what was truly in it. As long as they were both together, that heart would keep on beating strong.

"The serious answer is when I thought I lost you." His hand drifted from Hajime's face to his shoulder, gently trialing over where flesh met steel. Hajime may have loathed the fake arm, but to Kiyotaka, it symbolized the greatest mercy the world had shown him and served as a reminder never to take even the merest second with him for granted.

"It took something so extreme for me to realize that, but I'm sure I felt it long before." Their bond dated back to pretty much day one, after all.

He stilled as Kiyotaka reached over to his false arm, the impostor he'd installed. The steel fingers clenched shut. He knew that Kiyotaka didn't hold the same spite against it that he did, but he couldn't help himself from hating it all the more for it.

"If only I could have been with you as a whole man."

His true hand placed over Kiyotaka's on his shoulder, distracting away from the prosthetic. This wasn't a time to think on what he lost, but what he still had. As much time as he wasted on self-pity, he had to remind himself that in spite of it all, he was rich in the one most important place.

"But if that's all I had to give to have you, it's worth it. You have the rest, solid and spirit. No one else will take it from you."

"I would never let them."

For as long as he remained at Hajime's side, he would protect him at any cost. A vow he swore to himself even knowing the potential for the price to rob him of his life, or worse, his humanity.

For the time being he was more than willing to offer his entire being to Hajime just to make him feel he was complete, amputation be damned. He stole another quick kiss, tilting his head in a way that might pass for boyishly playful, if one could read the subtleties beyond his general weariness.

"Are you certain you don't want to sleep tonight?" Another offer, but of a completely different nature.

It was hard to believe anyone in the world could have a stronger connection than the two of them: so often, they seemed to have precisely the same thoughts in mind. In all things, Hajime knew, they were as one.

He bore a ragged, lopsided grin, as he squeezed Kiyotaka's hand one more time. There were days he'd balk at the thought of neglecting his duty, one arguably less important than the one he had now. But he had a duty to himself, as well.

"Ah, but we promised. I couldn't possibly leave your side--you'll have to join me."

"I know. I take our promise very seriously."

He rose, turning his palm so he could take Hajime's hand in turn, and gave a gentle tug. These opportunities were rare, and Kiyotaka valued them highly.

"Let's go find our relief."

Edited (i don't have my own keywords memorized) 2014-07-07 06:30 (UTC)

There were no true places anyone could call safe or private, but when you needed something for a short while you could generally find a suitable approximation.

Then, there were certain areas that had never truly been safe in the first place.

"Kiyotaka... tell me, has my nostalgia taken too strong a hold, or does this area seem familiar...?"

"Does it?"

Once upon a time, enough of the city still stood to easily get a feel for what used to be what neighbourhood or district. But between roaming monsters, rowdy bandit groups bordering on terrorist groups with handmade explosives, persisting weed overgrowth, and utter lack of maintenance, the rubble and decay all blurred together as one to Kiyotaka. All that mattered to him about his surroundings was whether or not it was clear of threats and if it could provide shelter for their groups until it was time to move on again.

But Hajime's question prompted him to look a little closer. Even in the dark, he could see the outlines of what were once the mighty foundations of a large building in the distance, across a dead, torn-up field.

"Wait, you're right. We have been here."

There was only one place they spent enough time in before the city's fall to have such a nagging sense of familiarity. Kiyotaka's stomach knotted. As bitter as his memories of Smash Academy were, at least it hadn't been like this.

"It's the school, isn't it?"

It had been a long, long time since they'd last set foot near Smash Academy, physically if not through memory. The school--or rather, the catacombs beneath it--had been the catalyst for so much of the chaos that spread across the city, to say nothing of the spatial-temporal instability surrounding the campus itself.

But even the chaotic and unshakable institution couldn't escape the ravages unleashed over the years. To see it now, anyone unfamiliar couldn't have seen it as anything but another of the endless wrecks, unremarkable in its destruction.

It was hard to say if the bad feeling came from a true threat or the plain reputation the school held in Hajime's mind. His prosthetic hand gripped at the hilt of his sword, his senses pressing out for the threats that surely lurked nearby, but still he held Kiyotaka's hand in his natural one.

"So... how far a trip down memory lane do you feel up to tonight?"

He didn't want to take even the first step if this was waiting at the end. He clenched his teeth, his left hand resting at his sword as well, though too tense and at the ready to truly be considered at rest. This was where the first bomb went off. This was where the shadows poured out from every door leading to the basement and even erupted from the earth like geysers in places. This was where Kiyotaka considered it to be hell on earth before anybody had the faintest awareness of the true hell that lurked beneath.

"There's no point in this kind of nostalgia," he muttered, staring at the ground so he wouldn't see phantoms instead. God, who knew how many skeletons could be still buried in the debris, if scavengers hadn't had their way with them already?

But even the ground was a reminder of the past, the spider's web of cracks looking ready to break apart and swallow them whole like it had all those years ago. Above them, the ribbons of purple-black that swirled through the sky were even more concentrated here, unnatural, soundless lightning flickering between them.

"We should head back." Maybe move camp entirely.

It was, on some level, good to have his growing dread shared, though he hoped not to have it justified. The mood had been effectively killed, but at least they knew now where they stood, in the most literal sense.

"Mm. We may need to move camp entirely, before--"

Before a grinding, keening screech of metal could sound, load-bearing wheels rattling over the rubble. The purple streaks of subspace showed off tarnished steel blades, twice the height of either of them.

"Move!"

The Greap's eyes were already on them as Hajime lashed out his sword and took off running.

Shit. Of course something like this would happen. Nothing good ever came from setting foot on the school grounds.

--Almost. Kiyotaka gave Hajime's hand a firm squeeze to remind himself that yes, it did bring some good into his life, and he would be damned if he was going to let it take it away from him too. He freed his hand up in an instant, drawing his blade in turn in preparation. It was no good just fighting it head on like this - only an idiot would try parrying its massive scythes. The terrain was uneven and littered with rubble big enough in places to put any wheeled robot-creature at a severe disadvantage, and he gestured toward the nearest ruin - what remained of the clock tower, identifiable only by the cracked and tarnished bell that lay at its base.

"This way!"

As much as he was loathe to stay in this place any longer, he would never lure it in the direction of the camp. So he charged for the clock tower, throwing continuous glances over his shoulder to make sure the thing's attention was on him and only him.

"Come on!!"

The sky above pulsed with continuous purple lightning, reflecting off the Greap's metal arms as it raised them ever higher.

The dark sky roiled overhead. It always pulsed with the corruption of otherworldly power, but here, where the barrier between reality stretched thinnest, its disturbance reached a whole new level, lightning strobing over the chase. Shadow bugs oozed from the remains of the school, agitated by the excitement.

Hajime, of course, concerned himself more with the more immediate distress behind him, rattling over the rubble after them. His sword struck out to clear a few overzealous bugs from their path, dashing alongside Kiyotaka into the remains of the tower.

It had been a long time since the tower's innards had been gutted for parts, stripped of its identifying features, crumbled and worn from ravages of time and abuse. Still, it had walls thicker than steel. The mortar rattled and dust fell, but for the moment everything remained standing.

For the moment. The creaking, grinding noise told well enough that the monster was prying its weapons free for another go.

Hajime's breath hissed against the back of gritted teeth as he scanned for an exit, a weapon, any option at all. Naturally, there was one, somewhere, obviously. There was always an option. He refused to die where it all started.

"Kiyotaka... I... don't know how much time we have, but--"

A great burst of light ripped apart the sky, its angry crack of thunder cutting straight through his words, as a massive bolt of lightning struck the clock tower.

No, there wasn't much time at all. With an enemy this big and dangerous they had to hit it hard and fast, because if it got the first hit in instead, it would all be over - and it sounded like even if it only missed and struck the building instead, the outcome would still be the same. Kiyotaka squashed a shadow bug beneath his heel, keeping his eyes on the Greap the whole time. If they went for the head while it was stuck... it was risky, but there was nothing else to be done. The clock was ticking.

...The clock was actually ticking. As the lightning struck, the shattered face of the fallen clock, even with its missing hands, uttered a few slow, echoing ticks.

The funny thing about time was how fickle it was. How quickly it passed all depended on one's perception, and it could be altered one hour at a time for the sake of pretending there was more sunlight in a day. But the whims of humans were nothing like the whims of Final Destination City (which may as well have been its own entity at this point, really). A rift tore through existence itself, swallowing the clock tower and those in it whole.

There was no swirling vortex, no dramatic montage of flashbacks that had happened in the past ten years, or any of the things movies would have you believe about time travel. One second the world around them was ravaged beyond repair, and the next it was still standing, leaving two bedraggled young men stranded in the clock tower.

And one angry, misplaced monster outside of it.

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stares at keyword choice

what of it

judgin your gays like i have ANY RIGHT

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GREAT SCOTT! idk.

SNAKE YOU CAN'T GO CHANGING THE FUTURE LIKE THAT