thenearshore | it's been one week [closed]

Entry tags:

it's been one week [closed]

Who: Hakkai and Ayumu
When: September 26th
Where: Temple of Li Tieguai
What: She's had the few days of peace she asked for (sort of), and Hakkai's getting sick of sleeping in a spare classroom. It's probably time for them to talk.
Warnings: TBA. Possible violence, probable mention of character death.

[Hakkai had, before sending Ayumu a brief text letting her know that they should talk, and confirming she was at home, spent what was probably too long on the question of whether he should bring a hostess gift to someone who was, in fact, living in his house.

And furious with him. In the end, that's what had decided him; he may be annoyed about her determination in kicking him out of his residence (it's still hard to think of it as a home) but she seems to have had cause. Their relationship, he's gathering from the sketchy outline of his life his saved messages and notes provide, had been rocky long before he'd died. There's a certain excessively formal tone to the messages they'd exchanged.

Which is to say: as he approaches the temple door, he has to shift the bouquet of chrysanthemums and red maple under one arm so that he can knock. It's in a cellophane wrapper, rather than a vase, but it's still unwieldy.

At least it won't hurt if she hurls it at his face, he reflects, and takes a step back, straightening his shoulders as if he's preparing to face a firing squad. He's really very bad at this.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[The time apart has helped, as has being in company of supportive friends and the positive response to her BBS post about the shelter. Things are starting to look up and Hakkai's text casts only the faintest of shadows on her day. But Ayumu had told him he could come back later and she's a woman of her word.

After some careful deliberation, Ayumu decided against preparing tea. Hakkai's favorite teaset had been smashed to smithereens but she'd picked up several others during that shopping trip a while back. He wants to talk and she's willing to hear him out at least. Still, it's best to keep the area clear of any potential weapons that might tempt her into another attack. Ayumu leaves her knives behind in her bedroom, too, in a further attempt at keep this meeting as diplomatic as possible.

When Ayumu answers the door, her appearance is very tidy and presentable with her hair neatly pinned up, exposing the ugly purple blotches of blight on the sides of her neck. It's not the right season for it but she's also wearing the beautiful yukata that Orihime had woven for her upon learning she had no proper clothes of her own in her early days. The fabric's a bit thin for cool weather but wearing it made her feel better. Not only is it a token Ayumu associates with the kindness of others, it's a reminder to herself of Orihime's words about her high value as a servant and shinki in her god's household.

Ayumu isn't smiling but she's not glaring or frowning either. For the most part, she looks pretty calm and composed, especially in comparison to their last encounter.]

Please come in.

[Her tone's formal and polite, her expression a little distant. It takes her a moment to notice the flowers and when she does, Ayumu's forehead creases a little in puzzlement.]

Edited 2017-12-21 02:07 (UTC)

[Politely, Hakkai offers the bouquet with a half-bow. The blight marking her neck is no surprise; his bow reveals the blotches crawling up his own neck, just visible over the collar of his shirt.

He's been considering turtlenecks, but, on the other hand, he's not buying new clothing when he does have belongings left in this temple.]

It's nothing much, but in return for your hospitality....

[There's a slight barb in his choice of polite phrase: yes, it's a gift to coat the bitter pill of letting him back into the temple. But it is also his temple, and, justified though she may have been, "hospitality" isn't precisely the right description of their last meeting.

His tone, though, he's careful to keep innocently polite.

He steps inside, looking around, and blinks as he notes the piled boxes. Is that a price tag?]

[The barb doesn't go unmissed but there's no visible reaction or even the faintest hint of emotion. There's certainly no pity or guilt, even when she sees the traces of blight splashed across his skin. As far as Ayumu's concerned, she's spent way too much time focusing on Hakkai's health, comfort, and safety, only to see it all go to waste. He's not worth the risk of investment in; Hakkai had proven that beyond a shadow of a doubt with his latest stunt of his.

She takes the flowers from him without comment but she doesn't throw them back in his face either so maybe that's a positive sign? Ayumu usher him anywhere so much as just walks in the direction of the sitting room.

And yes, those are price tags. Most of it's items that Ayumu had picked out herself for decorating their home or things they might have selected together but there's a few items marked for sale that are exclusively Hakkai's that she'd gotten to before her anger could cool to a more easily manageable level. A substantial part of what's in the boxes are out of season clothes, most of it her own and some things she's never seen Hakkai wear.

It'd been strangely therapeutic, really.

Once they arrive in the sitting room, Ayumu sits down on a loveseat, leaving her god to sit wherever he pleases. She casually inspects the bouquet while she waits. It is rather pretty and perfect for the season, she has to admit.]

You wanted to talk so start talking.

Edited 2017-12-21 05:14 (UTC)

[Her eyes are downcast as she looks at the flowers, but Hakkai thinks he can see something cold in them; or perhaps it's just the chill in her voice that he's hearing.

She's certainly not concerned with playing polite. He discards his own efforts, and sits across from her on an armchair upholstered in scratchy blue fabric. It catches at the fabric of his slacks as he crosses his legs and folds his hands on his knee.]

I haven't remembered anything more. I think, at this point, I can assume that my memories won't return with time.

We didn't talk much at my return. Do you have any information that might help me find whoever killed me?

[Ayumu sets the bouquet down on the seat beside her very carefully to keep it from getting damaged in any way. Once this chat's over with, she'll find a proper vase for it. There's a dresser in her room it would look lovely on, she thinks. She turns her attention to his question, keeping her tone perfectly neutral and professional.]

No, I don't. It could have been any one of your enemies. From what I'd gathered, you'd made quite a few. But you rarely discussed your business with me or kept me informed of your intentions. I know nothing about the enemy that killed you, how you died, where it happened, or who - if anyone - was with you at the time.

[She takes a breath before continuing.]

Normally, I would suggest asking Sanzo-sama but she didn't know anything either. No one did. None of your other shinki and especially not me.

[Hakkai nods briskly. It's obvious enough how she feels about it: the bitterly detailed list of things that she hadn't been told makes that clear.]

If anyone was with me at the time, that person hasn't contacted me to clarify the situation.

[There is one person he seems to have texted before his disappearance -- D2, who'd been so awkward about Hakkai's return. He hadn't seemed to have any violent intent. Could he have been there? Could some of that awkwardness have been guilt?

He might be a better target for Hakkai's questions than Ayumu. Her guilt, it seems, lies in his own failure.]

Sanzo and Chikusa both mentioned Fuujin, but he's not someone I'd like to accuse lightly.

... if I was alone, though, and hadn't told anyone where I was going, I don't think I can have expected it.

[Or he was being blackmailed -- and blackmail with murder should have been followed up when it became clear he wasn't permanently dead. Unless he'd been killed over information, which his killer could have expected to be lost with his memories. His mouth twists, slightly, at the thought, but he keeps his gaze on Ayumu level and unassuming.

He's thinking out loud, in part. The other part of those words is an apology: he can't imagine he would have left her wholly out of the loop without good reason. She's clearly competent, and loyal enough that he's been feeling the searing pain of her reaction ever since his own return. More loyal, he thinks, than he could deserve.]

[He has her loyalty for certain. Her trust, on the other hand, is an entirely different matter. It had already been shaken before Hakkai decided to go off and compete in whatever test of idiocy he seemed to determined to win at any cost. This stunt of his had strained what little trust she'd still had into shattering almost completely. And even now, Ayumu's wondering she's still retaining that tiny sliver of faith when all it's done is brought her heartache.

Still, Ayumu listens, still neutral. She'd meant exactly what she'd said when she told Chikusa she didn't care about the circumstances of his death or have any intention of investigating it. Whatever external enemies Hakkai might have, they're nowhere near as threatening as the one within that drives him into making them.

She's still trying to decide whether pointing that out is worth the struggle of finding the right words. Talking to him didn't do much good before but sure, why not? It's not as if she has anything left she fears to lose.]

Instead of looking for enemies without, your efforts would be better spent looking for ones within, Hakkai-san. They are far more dangerous than the external threat that murdered you.

I beg to differ, Yamazaki-san. One of those threats killed me. The other one seems unlikely to.

[She might be more concerned about his personal problems than his actual murderer, but Hakkai fears the enemy he doesn't know a little more than his inner demons. Those, he's well acquainted with.

And they tend to be more dangerous to others. He eyes her wearily.]

I do know myself, thank you.

[Well, if he's already aware, that settles that, she supposes. And it finalizes the decision Ayumu's been struggling with all week. It's clear to her that he's never going to change and she's wasted enough time chasing dreams that aren't going to become reality. It's time this farce of a partnership ended.

She doesn't waste any further time delaying the inevitable. She's tired and her patience for him has just about reached its end. She lifts her hand in a halt gesture and shakes her head.]

Before you say anything else, I want to be released.

[Her mind's made up and the neutrality in her tone is giving away to inpenetrable frost.]

[It's not what Hakkai had expected her to say -- but, after the way she's been responding to him since his revival, the sentiment doesn't come as a surprise. He's silent for a moment.]

If that's what you want, I will, but before I do... may I ask for your reasons?

[Perhaps she does know him well, and this is a well-reasoned request. Perhaps it's an explosion of pique. Perhaps... who knows?

He can still feel her guilt burning into his skin. If she just wants to be sure no one knows about her pain, he's not sure he wants to agree to release her after all. No matter how well she knows him, he doesn't know her. Not anymore.]

[It's on the tip of her tongue to snap at him, tell him in no uncertain terms that her reasons are her own and it's none of his business, but even with her shaky mental state, Ayumu recognizes it's not an an unreasonable request. No matter how strongly a part of her just wants to childishly lash out at him until he gives in. Instead, she just sighs heavily and massages her temples, feeling a headache coming on.]

Because it's pointless to continue a partnership that isn't working. Neither of us are happy or satisfied with our present arrangement. I can't be the kind of shinki you want me to be and you can't be the type of god I need you to be. I have certain principles that I'm unwilling to compromise on and so do you.

[Her tone is reasonable enough, if slightly tinged with impatience. If she hadn't already been at her limit when this had occurred, perhaps Ayumu could have been more compassionate about all of it. But getting irritated with Hakkai over more things he doesn't remember is just going to exhaust her even more.]

We talked about this about a month ago, you know. I warned you that if you didn't stop being so self-absorbed and inconsiderate toward your shinki that I would leave. I drew the line for you then. You chose to ignore it and stepped over it anyway.

[There'd been more to the discussion than that was the major pertinent point to the one they're having now.]

But I guess what it ultimately comes down to that I've seen enough of you to judge that you are not the commander or partner I want or need to get by here.

[We talked about this a month ago, you know, she says, and Hakkai has to bite back the urge to snap that, obviously, he does not. She knows that as well as he does, after all. It's hard to hear it as anything other than deliberate provocation.

He doesn't know her, and he has to take another breath to avoid pointing out that he doesn't think he chose to die. It's not that it's impossible. It's just that it's not a choice he would have made in a place like this, for no obvious benefit; nor would he have gone into danger without sensible, trustworthy backup. She seems to believe otherwise. So does Kakimoto, and so, even, does Sharak.

So, it seems, he can't expect help from anyone.

It's frustrating. It would be frustrating even without that tone of condescending impatience she's chosen to take with him.

All artificial cheer, he inquires:]

And what are you blaming yourself for?

[Ayumu flinches.

She'd hoped Hakkai would just let her go without bringing that up. He doesn't even know her now; releasing a stranger should have been an easy task for him to do. They could have parted ways peacefully. He would have had his temple back and she would have had freedom and privacy to mourn. But of course, it couldn't be that easy. Nothing is ever easy when it comes to Hakkai. There's a raw tremor of grief in her voice when she speaks.]

What do you think? I was your shinki. You were my god. It was my job to protect you and guide you and I couldn't do either. I didn't even know where you'd gone, who you were with. I didn't know anything and I should have. If anyone should've known, it should have been me.

[She'd thought Sharak had said he was smart.]

But we've established that I'm not the kind of shinki you want. So please just let me go, Hakkai-san. You'll have your temple back and we can go our separate ways.

[It's the answer he'd expected; he lets the facade of cheer go as easily as dropping a fan, and meets her eyes.]

I don't know what kind of shinki you are, Yamazaki-san, but it's clear you have no trust in me.

[She blames herself for his death, but she doesn't care how it happened, because she's so convinced it was his fault. His choice. She cares about her job, but she hates him enough that she can barely look at his face without erupting into violence.

She blames herself, he thinks, for not being able to "guide" him into becoming the sort of god she wants. That's her failure.

Self-absorbed and inconsiderate... indeed. There's nothing to save here, and he's sick, abruptly, of the pretense that their conversation has any meaning.]

So it's hard to understand why you think I should have relied on you.

[He raises one hand, and then hesitates. The spicy scent of chrysanthemums is cloying.]

What is your name?

[It stings but the truth often does, doesn't it? That's what it comes down to, isn't it? Ayumu just can't trust her god, can she? Not enough to place her fate in his hands, not enough to follow him wherever he might lead her. But she's not going to apologize for it or feel guilty about her absence of faith in a man that's never really accepted her.

Better to just get this over with before any more damage can be done.]

Susu. My vessel name is Mai.

[As for the rest, she just lets it go without a response. There's no point in arguing with him anymore. It's best to concentrate on just taking care of herself from now on.]

[He can feel the name ring between them as she speaks it, just as Kakimoto's had, sounding in that same place in his chest where he feels the ache of guilt and grief.

He doesn't let himself dwell on the feeling. His heart is too small to hold very many people, after all: one less will be easier. It's what she wants.]

I release you, Susu.

[The character glows red over her heart, lifting away from the skin, and shatters between them. Hakkai feels it like a blow. The resonance dies. The pain -- her pain -- is gone, with such cold suddenness that it leaves an aching socket where it had been, although the acid burn of the blight on his neck and shoulders remains.

It's not easier.

But it's done. He closes his eyes, for just a second, before he rises from the chair and casts her a glance.]

Take whatever you want with you -- or sell it. If that's what you were planning to do.

[He'd tell her she could stay until she had another place to go, but she's already put price tags on half the furniture and most of the knickknacks. It's clear she has no interest in staying. And, frankly, he doesn't want to share a home with someone who hates him or sleep on a classroom floor any longer. She can find her own place to stay.]

[And just like that, the shackles are removed, crumbling into dust. Tears of relief spring to her eyes but she blinks them back, not wanting them to be misunderstood. They're not of joy or sadness, just the tears of a woman who's been trying to bear a weight on her shoulders that's too heavy for her. She chokes back a sob, taking a deep breath to steady herself. He's free of her; she can stop denying her feelings at last. They can't hurt Hakkai anymore.

She's quiet for several long moments, just trying to regain some measure of calm and composure. Without a name, she'll be in more danger now; she'll need to keep her wits about her in the days ahead.

Ayumu stands up and bows deeply and sincerely.]

Thank you, Hakkai-san. All I'll be taking are my clothes and a few other necessities. The rest is yours to do with as you wish. It's your temple and your things, after all.

[As for places to stay, she has options and she's not afraid to sleep on the shelter's floor if she must for a few nights.]

[Her eyes glitter, too wet, and her breath catches as he watches her struggle with her emotions. He can't feel them any longer; he doesn't know if her tears are for loss, or for relief.

But the bow is deeper than any she's offered him so far. There's a strange lump in his throat. He considers it, sifting the flavors like the first taste of an unfamiliar dish. Frustration, regret, and a bitter aftertaste that might be loneliness, if he knew her well enough to excuse such a thing.

She's no more than a good-looking stranger, and so he categorizes it as wounded pride. Gojyo's disgust with him had hurt. Hers is just a bit of insult to add to the injury.

He returns her bow, to precisely the same degree of depth. His voice, past that awkward lump, comes out weary and distant.]

Take whatever you want. I don't recognize any of it, anyway.

[Maybe she'll take enough blankets and dishes to tide her over for a little while, too. Just some of the ones they don't use much and she can return them once she has her own. Of course, Ayumu would have to make a couple of calls first.

She should probably get on that soon.]

If you need help finding anything, please let me know. Or Chikusa-kun. He knows the layout of the kitchen very well, at least.

[She'll need to call him, too, and let him and Ken know she won't be working with them and Hakkai anymore. Maybe someday they could all have dinner again after they've all had more time to heal.]

I hope that we'll be able to speak about this someday. Perhaps as friends.

[She does truly care for him, maybe more than she should. But that's why she needs to step away.]

Edited 2017-12-27 03:25 (UTC)

Friends.

[His tone is politely incredulous; he crosses his arms. After all of this, is she really following it up with an, "I hope we can be friends"?

As if he's the only thing standing between them and that pleasant fantasy. As if he hadn't been the one asking to talk, and she the one deflecting and accusing.]

With a self-absorbed, inconsiderate man?

[It's amazing how fast annoyance clears away pain. He embraces it.]

There's no need for you to feel obligated to that sacrifice, Yamazaki-san.

It's not obligation.

[He's hurting more than she'd expected him to over this. He doesn't even remember who she is so how can that be? He has two other shinki, both of whom he seems to get along just fine with. All this time, the burden of responsibility for her seemed too much to bear so she relieved him of that. So why is he still so upset? It just doesn't make sense to her.]

I thought this is what you wanted. To only have to worry about yourself.

[He'd said he'd liked her and then he'd been insistent that she think about finding another god. And then he'd gone off without a word to her. Exactly what is she supposed to think? She's frustrated and lonely, too.]

I don't understand what it is you ask of me.

[Words she should have said a long time ago but she hadn't thought to speak them until now. And now, it was far too little and too late.]

[She looks genuinely confused. Hakkai stares at her for a moment in silence. He'd been wrong to interpret her guilt as any hint of warmth in their relationship, he'd thought from what she told him. She'd felt loyalty towards her duties, and nothing but obvious disappointment and anger towards him.

She'd just told him as much, hadn't she? Five minutes ago?]

Yamazaki-san--

[It's the same formal address he's been using since showing up at her door, the polite way to address a woman who he doesn't know and has no relationship with. This time, he emphasizes it, just a little.]

I've already released you, so it doesn't matter if you were lying to me. I'd like to ask you to stop pretending you're confused that I believed you.

[She'd used those very words: I warned you that if you didn't stop being so self-absorbed and inconsiderate that I would leave. And now, here she is, wide-eyed and claiming she doesn't understand why he expects her to want to leave.]

I'm not pretending. Just because I don't like working for you doesn't mean that I don't care. And disliking your flaws isn't the same thing as disliking you. You're not just a god and I'm not just a shinki.

[Perhaps she's said too much already. Maybe it would have been better to have just kept her mouth shut. It's not like Ayumu's good at talking anyway. Right now, she's not even good at thinking. It's not as if she's forgetting what she's saying but once she does, it doesn't ring quite as true after the fact.]

But if there's nothing else, I'll start packing my things. There's no need to drag this out any further than it has to be. Good luck with the rest of your life, Hakkai-san.

[It's not at all what she'd said -- or hinted -- before, but the affronted tension goes out of Hakkai's posture anyway. He glances aside.]

I'm sorry.

[You're not just a god, and I'm not just a shinki...]

... You're right. [He looks back at her with a sharper glint in his eye. He may be willing to apologize for calling her a liar, but he's not entirely giving in.]

I don't dislike you, but I still don't know you, Yamazaki-san. Perhaps we will have the chance to remedy that someday.

Until then, good luck.

[It's still something and Ayumu takes what she can get. If it was a matter of genuine dislike or hatred, none of this would have ever happened at all. Not the punch, not the argument, not extracting herself, none of it. If she'd felt true contempt at all, she would've simply gathered what she could and disappeared into the night without a word.]

It's okay. I imagine it's a lot to process. If I could help you understand it all and navigate it better, I would.

[But that's why she's unsuited to be his exemplar or even his shinki, by her reckoning.]

Please take care in the future, Hakkai-san.

[She bows again and turns to leave the room. There's arrangements to make.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

it's been one week [closed]

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject