thenearshore | [Open] It hurts sometimes to find where you begin

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[Open] It hurts sometimes to find where you begin

Who: Ken and Chikusa, with some cameos
When: September 30
Where: Literally wherever Ken finds Chikusa first, although they may eventually move to Roy's temple
What: Ken and Chikusa have just regained their memories of each other from before death. Needless to say, emotions ensue.
Warnings: Emotions/Dysfunction Gone Wild

A) Long Time No See (CLOSED to Chikusa)

Kakipi!

[Ken wakes up screaming.

A whole lifetime's worth of memories have re-settled themselves in his head overnight, and that would be dramatic and disorienting enough on its own. But the last memory, the most vivid memory, the one that goes off in Ken's head like a grenade almost from the second he regains consciousness and tears agony into every inch of him, is of Chikusa. Chikusa Kakimoto, Kakipi, his partner, someone he's spent practically his whole life with, someone he's shared food with and slept beside for thousands of nights, the person who's survived everything with him...lying bloody in front of him, his entire chest caved in from a gunshot blast, eyes dull and dead, unbreathing. Gone.

The other memories are all there; in a way, they feel like they've never left, although when Ken eventually stops to think about it he's going to realize that's not true. But right now, there's no remembering, no thinking, beyond that one thought, one fact that's more important than anything else.

Chikusa's gone.

He's sitting up, face wet, before he suddenly processes the difference in the light, the sights, the smells of where he currently is in contrast to that scene that seems to be etched into the insides of his eyelids. And when that confusion brings him up short...then his more recent memories come rushing back, crashing into other memories in an awkward, baffling jumble. He has two memories of when he'd last seen Chikusa, and they don't match up. One is a whole lot less dire than the other, for instance.

He sniffles, scrubbing his sleeve over his face, and then sniffs again with a clearer nose. He can smell Chikusa now - a fairly fresh scent of him on his clothes. Not that Chikusa ever smells like much - he smells like rainwater, and a little soap(at least here in the Far Shore), and it always carries an uncomfortable undertone of bath that Ken would find distasteful if the familiarity didn't make it kind of comforting. But Ken spends enough time around Chikusa that he can pick up his scent, no matter how faint it is, even without a Channel.

So...Chikusa isn't dead. Except, Ken realizes after a moment, he is - they both are. That's what their being in the Far Shore means, right? They both definitely did die. He just...hadn't really thought about what that meant before. Maybe they're dead, but Chikusa's alive enough here, so it wasn't really something to get upset about...

Until he saw it.

Is that what he saw? Is that what his memories are, the ones that keep popping up now? It's bewildering, overwhelming, but - there's too much for it to be some kind of dream, right? Chikusa dying...was that how Chikusa got to the Far Shore? Did they live together even while they were alive? Is he remembering their life before?

...how the hell is he doing that without becoming an ayakashi? Chikusa definitely told him that remembering their old lives would turn them into ayakashi that meant they had to be killed.

That last question gets discarded as unimportant; after a quick physical check of himself, Ken can definitely confirm he's still human. And any thoughts about why - and, increasingly, any other thoughts at all - are rapidly being overtaken by an increasingly anxious, burning desire.

He has to find Chikusa. He has to make sure he's okay, because he can't get the sight of his corpse out of his head. He has to see if he remembers, too...although he realizes, with a sudden spike of alarm, that he'd better be really careful. If Chikusa doesn't remember...then Ken can't remind him, can he? Or Chikusa will die here, too.

And he's not going to let Chikusa die. Ever again.

He springs out of the blanket nest he's made near the school, snaps in his Cheetah cartridge, and takes off running at top speed to where he last saw Chikusa. He'll track him by scent, if he has to - whatever gets him there the quickest. He doesn't know if Chikusa's stayed at Hakkai's temple or if he's gone back to Roy's since Hakkai left, and he doesn't want to waste any time. (Which means that eventually he needs to switch from Cheetah Channel to Wolf Channel for the sharper nose, albeit reluctantly; he doesn't like having to sacrifice the speed. He can't move fast enough right now. Until he sees Chikusa again, upright and whole, it won't really be real to him.)

Chikusa had better brace himself. Ken's tackled him in sheer exuberance before, hard enough to bowl him over; today, Ken might knock him completely out of his shoes.]

B) To Whom It May Concern (OPEN)

[Having found each other, Ken and Chikusa can either be found out in the open, having an emotionally intense reunion to say the least, or they can be found after they've relocated to Roy's temple. Their gods have every reason to investigate the perfect storm of emotions they've been subjected to, of course, but even strangers may find the sight of Ken and Chikusa so demonstrative and...emotionally unstable, to put it delicately, to be unusual enough to take an interest.]

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[Chikusa wakes up and, for one of the rare times in his life, hurts.]

[His lungs, tight, and his heart twisted- it's all a psychological thing, he'll realize this much many days later when his mind has smoothed back into calm. For now, however, it hurts as anything else does, and not for the reason that has him reaching up to press his hand over his torso. That one is on instinct, a self survival habit which has carried with him from life far into death. The memories buzzing in his head say you should have holes in you. They say that his clothing should be damp with blood, and his torso more concave than it is.]

[Yet there's nothing.]

[Even as the practical part of his mind focuses on that, Chikusa's more conscious mind is all a-scramble with the last image in his head: Ken, fading into black, his expression twisted into the sort of thing he hasn't seen since- ]

[Since the ablution? Since M̵̛̺̪̦̜͇͎͎̺͈̀̈́̈́̒͊̀̌̌̕͘͜͝͝͠u̶̢̧̳̣͈͔̗͙̟̯͔̒͒͂͆̈͠͠k̴̛̩̬̟̜͇̜̪̔̊̂̽͛͑̄̒͂̎͜ṵ̴̪͚͍̏̑͗͊̓̾̿̆̇͝͝r̷̢̨̳̗̘͚͖͔̖̺̯̻̜̹̳̼͇̎ǫ̷̡͖͈̰̥̯͔̰̭̘͔̜̽̂̓͆͋̓͐́̆̊̽̑͒͑̋̂̕͠ didn't make it to the arranged spot? Since C̷̨̫̟̦̥̫̬͔͓̙̜̭̯̹͎̱̻̞̹͇̐̒̉͗̂͆̀͜͜͝h̷̢̨̨̧͉̹̫̻͈͕̠͉̜̗̹̟͕̣͖̟͓͕̯̮̪̮̲̠͈̠̹̩́̏̊̀̈̓́̔̔̀̄͜͜͜͝ͅͅř̷̛̺̬̳͍̫̹͇̪͙̤͎̞̳͇̉̄͛̿̿̍̃̍̽̾̅̽̀̀͆̀́̀̍̏̅̀̂̃̉̿̒͊̍̈̎̚͘͠͝ͅơ̷̧̨̧̨̢̲͉̼̩͙͓̩͙̗̆͆̓̀̈́̊̐̀͒̂̅͐̍̎̊̊̿́̈́̒̓̿̎̓̂̐̃͌̔͂̌̋͘͝m̵̨̨͖̟̮̰̯̩̣͇̏̓͂̓̊̒͂͆͋́͆̏̀̏̆͗́̋́̇̆̃̆̈́̓̊͆͒̚͝ḛ̷͉͈͎́͑͊͋̈́̏͒͑͂̀͆̀̈́̓̉̑̇̃̎̂̿͌̓́̆̔̐̓͛̀̕̕͝͠ first cried in their presence?]

[Just the thought alone of his partner in distress has had Chikusa on the move. When Hakkai had been evicted from his own temple by Ayumu, he's been wavering from inbetween one temple and the other, usually decided by whichever was closest at the time. With Ken having gone to keep an eye on Hakkai, that means he's gone back into old habits- namely sleeping beneath beds. So he's halfway out, his fingers dug into the mattress of his bed at Roy's, when the disconnect hits him, and Chikusa freezes in place.]

[It'd happened so naturally- thinking of Ken in other situations, with other people. (And who were they, again? He doesn't think to ponder deeper.) This isn't entirely a strange thing, not ever since he's started writing. He's been visualizing Ken a lot in the place of the love interest. But this is different. Sitting there, frozen in place, Chikusa thinks on how naturally the other thoughts had hit him, as easily as remembering a recipe, or where his gods live, or how to cast a spell.]

[The more he thinks, the more jumbled things become. More than imaginings, more than daydreams, more and more and more. The implications of it are so enormous, and the despair that comes with it just as much so- ]

[Chikusa doesn't remember getting to his feet, or putting on a blue beanie with a star, or leaving the ranch that is Roy's temple. There's one moment, and then the next, where he's in the Far Shore at large and something behind his eyes is tugging at him, and he hurts.]

[He's heard about this. From other shinki, suddenly remembering things from their life before. In his chest, sick and nauseous as he is, he knows that this is what it is. He knows that he and Ken must know each other- of course they know each other, they arrived in the same uniforms- and he knows- ]

[He knows so much.]

[He knows so much, and Ken can't ever know, because shinki who are told are turned into ayakashi, and shinki are.... Shinki are dead- ]

[Ken is dead.]

[The second shouldn't matter so much, especially compared to the third. What is the Far Shore, besides emphasizing the 'life' in 'afterlife'? This is as much the same as living ever was, even with the nonsensical. Yet when he thinks of the concept of Ken being dead, cold and breathless and no longer full of the energy he's always been so warm with... ]

[It hurts so much that he could bleed from it.]

[Ken won't have any issue finding his partner. Chikusa hasn't strayed too far from Roy's temple, frozen almost solid as he hunches near a tree. One hand is presses against his mouth, fingers spread, and his eyes are wide, lost- but not yet distant.]

Edited 2017-12-30 00:26 (UTC)

[It's fortunate that Chikusa is so lazy that he really doesn't just do a lot of pointless wandering around the Far Shore. From where Ken saw him last, the scent leads straight back to Roy's temple - and that's where Ken finds him.

Ken sees Chikusa, sees - and can practically smell - his distress, sees his expression and posture, and on some level which is currently being completely overridden, those observations are filed. But the only thing more powerful than the relief Ken feels when he sees Chikusa is upright and uninjured are...all the other feelings that hit Ken when he sees him.

Ken's not even thinking as he runs forward. If he was, maybe - because when things are important enough, he does think about them - he'd consider what it means to use Chikusa's old nickname, a nickname neither of them should remember. But there's nothing in his head but instinct and longing and far too many memories to count.]

Kakipi! [Even with Ken emotionally overwhelmed and running in a full-tilt wolf sprint, every syllable rings clear.]

[One moment, he's standing in place, trapped by his own fear and mistery, too overwhelmed to do anything else. The next, Ken's voice is slicing through everything, and Chikusa has no idea how he doesn't 'go' from how hard the feelings that simple nickname bring up to the surface. It'd been a stupid little nickname that Ken had latched onto almost immediately once their aliases for Japan had been decided, which he's had to put up with for ages now- ]

[He couldn't be more relieved to hear it.]

[Chikusa twists on his heels, body not moving quite right, a marionette with half its strings cut, and his face is already crumpled into.... something. More emotions than should ever be on his face, and wouldn't be if not for what he's just remembered. He jerks forward, stumbling, and he doesn't care if Ken crashes into him. His fingers are already scrambling to dig into his clothes.]

Ken!

[Ken hits Chikusa hard enough that they both go sprawling, arms wrapping tightly around him in a way that actually almost protects Chikusa from the fall, at least a bit. Hurting Chikusa isn't what he's trying to do right now - in fact, he's never wanted to hurt Chikusa less in his whole life. He wants to reassure himself that Chikusa's not hurt right now.

He should ask if Chikusa remembers. He's vaguely noticed Chikusa's emotional state, and how Chikusa didn't seem surprised at all by the nickname. And, of course, he can't risk telling Chikusa anything if Chikusa doesn't remember himself. But at the moment...he's not able to get much out at all, anyway. His throat's almost closed up, his face wet where he's buried it against Chikusa's shirt.]

Kakipi... [His voice is raw and ragged.] You left me, stupid...

[Later, Ken will be relieved that he didn't say anything too risky; without context, the words aren't really threatening to Chikusa's well-being no matter what the state of his memories are. And, likely, anything blatantly risky would set off alarms in Ken's head before it escaped Ken's mouth. But it can't be said that what he's currently saying is going through extreme rigors of conscious thought.]

[No matter how tightly, how gently, Ken holds onto him... A tackle into the dirt is still a tackle into the dirt. The impact jolts Chikusa's vision, blurring the rest of the word, but it doesn't matter. All that matters is that Ken is still in his arms, He's in his arms, warm and loud and here. Fingers scratching still against the back of Ken's shirt, Chikusa buries his face into his hair. It's been a while since Ken has bathed. That he's been running around getting into who knows what sorts of trouble has probably only made matters worse. That's fine. For once, Chihkusa doesn't care.]

You died.... You weren't supposed to...

[For a very long time, Chikusa had always known that they were likely to die sooner than later. This knowledge is renewed in his mind, carried by memories of sitting in dark places thinking the very same thing as he patiently tends to whatever wounds he or Ken took on. First with clumsy medical knowledge, read from books, then with more experience with every more recent memory. No matter when, however, there's that feeling. The path they were on meant the very nature of it would have them die young.]

[That doesn't make it any easier.]

[With Chikusa so close, his hands drifting up from Ken's back to hold tightly onto his neck, he'll get a front row seat to the sound of Chikusa trying to breathe in and his efforts broken up by choked noises. When he finally pulls away, just enough for them to see each other, there should be no surprise that his face is smeared with tears and whatever was stuck in Ken's hair today.]

You remember.

[It's not even a question. That nickname has only ever been associated with one life, and he never thought he'd ache so much hearing it. He's relieved, even as he still can't help but cry.]

Edited 2017-12-30 14:41 (UTC)

You remember too, right? [Ken looks up at him, and his own face is just as wet and smeared as Chikusa's. (Though less dirty; if his face was dirty before, then it's been transferred to Chikusa's shirt by now.)] It's okay? You're not gonna turn into an ayakashi?

[He just wants to be completely sure of this, before anything else. But considering Chikusa seems just as emotionally worked up as Ken is(and isn't that weird), and doesn't seem confused at all by the way Ken's acting, it seems like the only explanation.

Besides, it just feels right. If he remembered, then Chikusa should remember at the same time. It doesn't feel convenient, it feels correct.]

No- doesn't work like that-

[He explained this, didn't he? It feels as though he did, ages ago. If he were more in control of himself, more the sort of normal he's accepted, Chikusa would remember that he didn't go particularly in depth or anything. There'd been a few reasons for that, mostly vivid jealousy.]

[Right now, fingers kneading through Ken's hair, he can't think about that at all. Instead, remembering their meeting that day at Bishamon's temple, Chikusa's throat tightens and he focuses on something entirely different.]

I forgot you....

But you remember now, right? [Ken presses insistently. He has to be sure! Even with 'forgot' as past tense, he has to be sure he's not going to screw up and lose Chikusa.

Again.]

[His voice fails him, right now, choked off and locked away in his throat as it is. All he can do is nod, his gaze shaking as he takes in all of Ken from dumb barrettes to the scar on his face.]

[He remembers. Of course he does.]

You stupid... [Ken rarely cries - perhaps even more rarely than Chikusa does, because while Chikusa deadens his emotions significantly, Chikusa's not particularly concerned with looking tough, whereas Ken is. And when Ken is upset, he's much more likely to become angry than he is sad.

But his eyes are welling up now, even while Chikusa watches.]

You left me! You died and I couldn't save you! [And his body curves into Chikusa, burying his face against Chikusa's chest as clawed fingers curl around fistfuls of his clothing.] I thought... [And then his voice breaks, his breath hitching in sobs he can't talk past, but it's honestly not necessary to continue. Chikusa's fully capable of imagining everything Ken could have thought, when faced with his corpse.]

[There's no need to think twice about it. Chikusa has never been particularly good at knowing what to do when faced with other people crying... but this isn't other people. This is Ken. This is his partner, his other half from childhood to death and past that.]

[(Distantly, faintly, past all the hurt and relief that war against one another, there's a strange curl of pleasure. Even as he doesn't want this, this is how things should be.)]

[For Ken, he doesn't hesitate. As the blond shoves his face into his shirt and curls into him, Chikusa's long lanky body curls around him in turn. The legs which had been sprawled out draw up tightly, knees squeezing in as if to hold Ken's body in place, and his fingers only dig in all the tighter. If Ken moves his head, who knows how much hair might get torn out from how hard Chikusa is holding onto him.]

I didn't want you to die... [It's a whisper into Ken's hair, Chikusa's glasses no doubt uncomfortable as they dig into his scalp.] I didn't..

[And it had felt, in that moment, that if he had moved, then Ken would have died.]

I don't remember it. [Ken's voice is a barely intelligible mumble, but Chikusa's got a lifetime of memories of him now. If anyone can make out what Ken's saying, even with Ken's mouth smushed against Chikusa's shirt, it's the person listening to him right now.] I don't remember anything except you.

And if I wasn't dead, I wouldn't be here. I'd be alone... [And so would Chikusa.] This is better.

But you're dead, so you....

[And he's still the same age as Chikusa could ever have remembered him. Not only would they never have died old, but they would never have died peacefully. He knows this, he's always known this, but- ]

[Chikusa takes in a sharp breath that's nearly a hiccup, soft and startlingly short. Wet, definitely. It's probably a warning sign that Ken can remember, although it's a much older habit than most ones Chikusa has these days. It's one that he would have done as a child, when he cried so much more often, and his throat was wet from it all to make that odd little sound. Even before Ken looks up, he'll probably be unsurprised at the distant fogginess that's layering over Chikusa's eyes.]

[So much emotion, agreement and misery and happiness all churning together, is too much for him. He's dealing the only way he knows how.]

So what? [Ken huffs, although why he's trying to sound tough and as if nothing could ever possibly bother him right now is debatable. He's clearly as much of a mess as Chikusa is.] We're both here. That's all that matters, right?

[His arms tighten around Chikusa, almost bruisingly so.] So...you don't have to cry, Kakipi. I'm here, so you don't have to cry.

Yeah.

[It's a rough mumble, throat still wet and a little sore although Chikusa can't exactly feel that latter part. Despite what he says, his entire body still seems to shudder with every breath he takes as if he'll fall apart at even the slightest nudge. In Ken's hair, and the back of his shirt, his fingers slowly start to knead.]

[A few moments pass before his body remember words that the mind wanted to pass along.]

....Still together...

Yeah... [That has kind of vaguely occurred to Ken, although until he found Chikusa there weren't a whole lot of thoughts in his head beyond 'seek'.] We ended up in the same place...and serving the same god. And we ended up kind of being like how we were when we were alive, too...

[Then he huffs a little.] Except you were more annoying. [But judging by the way he rests his head on Chikusa's chest - listening to his heartbeat - he's not all that put out so much as just grousing for effect, trying to regain his composure and dignity. (If anything about Ken can be called dignified.)]

Mmm. You always are.

[An automatic reply, mumbled into Ken's hair. Distantly, Chikusa thinks he might smell as filthy as ever, but he can't be sure. His vision is warped and strange, his brilliant golden hair vivid and the trees around them seeming far too cluttered together.]

[Chikusa's voice sounds strange to himself, but, then, that's nothing new. It's like his reflection not matching, an unsettling constant.]

[Even if he can't smell right, he still draws in a deep breath, and his eyes slip shut.]

....Meant to be.... We're always meant to be together.

[The words slip out of him, but they're not even romantic. That's not the intent, anyway. It's just... fact. Simple fact.]

We're always gonna be together. [Ken says this stubbornly, fingers digging into Chikusa's clothes enough for Chikusa to feel the tips of his claws.] I'm not gonna lose you again...

[He squeezes his eyes shut against more tears, and finally gets out the words he tried to say earlier. His throat is so thick with tears and pain that his voice is barely recognizable.] I thought I was never gonna see you again...I thought I was alone...

[Chikusa has never been good with comfort, even with his mind firmly anchored and his senses properly functioning. Right now, the only thing which keeps him remotely tethered is Ken's warmth burning into him, nails pricking into his back hot as molten metal. He's in no shape for comfort.]

[Still, he does the best he can, his body going through simple instinct and reaction over all else with his mind unable to send the proper messages. His knees nudge at Ken, shifting them until they are both on their sides. His glasses dig uncomfortably into the side of his face, sure to leave marks, and he doesn't notice. All he does is curl even tighter around Ken, a silent reassurance of his continued existence.]

Stupid Kakipi... [Ken mumbles this against his shirt, shortly before the tears start to come again. This time they shake through his entire frame, finally releasing the intensity of the grief compressed into only a few moments and then forgotten for months.

It takes awhile for the sobs to die off, but when they do, Ken's body relaxes, tense limbs loosening; with the emotional storm passed, he's more able to accept the reality of the here and now. And what's real now is Chikusa holding him, his comfortingly familiar scent filling Ken's nostrils. Chikusa's death was the worst thing to ever happen to him, but...it's over now, and he's with Chikusa again, and so long as he's with Chikusa, can still see him and spend time with him and do things with him, what does it matter if they're alive or dead?]

Why're you upset, Kakipi? [The nickname feels good to say, after months of having to call him Chikusa; it never felt like it sat quite right on his tongue.] You didn't see me die...

[Ken's existence is so intense. It's vivid and burning no matter who he's next to, Chikusa thinks, but it's especially apparent when compared to himself. Times like this, he's grateful for it. When he's so adrift like this, mind lost in the sea of his own skull, overtaken by a storm of senses and emotions, Ken is a lighthouse that calls to him every time. It's not easy to get back to him all the time.... but it's better than no light at all.]

[He concentrates on the feel of Ken in his arms: the burning heat he gives off, how every inch of his body shakes with each sob, his breath wet against the thin cloth of Chikusa's shirt. Ever little bit of him, Chikusa tries to focus on. It helps make the rest of the world, so twisted and uneasy to his brain, seem a little more solid.]

[The wet question into his chest allows Chikusa to bury his face into Ken's hair.]

...Just knowing.... Just knowing is bad enough.

How come? [Ken tries to peer up at Chikusa, but with his head essentially tucked under the other boy's chin he's really not able to see anything but throat.] We're together, so...it doesn't really matter, right?

[To Ken, being forcefully separated from someone he cares about - never being able to see them or be with them again - is where all the horror of death comes from. So, because they're together in the afterlife, that makes their deaths a lot less traumatic...aside from the memory of feeling so alone, of thinking he really had lost Chikusa for good. Even though it's not true now, just how much it had hurt then still feels like a ragged wound where his heart is.

He doesn't really understand Chikusa's more abstract horror, and the other boy hasn't really managed to explain it yet.]

[Explaining is hard... especially when he already feels so out of sorts, with even regular conversation seeming to take colossal effort. It takes so much to draw himself back even a little bit, staring down into the mess tangle of blond hair that he's pressed into. His throat doesn't want to work, his tongue feels clumsy, but...]

If we'd been apart... and I'd gotten hurt so bad, that I... lost an arm or something. [The injury in particular doesn't really matter.] But the stump was healed over by the time I got back to you...

Would you not care...? Since I could just get a robot arm or something...

[Ken frowns, then tucks his head against Chikusa's chest again.] That's different, byon. [His voice is a low mutter.] There's more to you losing an arm than just...you being hurt. It'd mean you couldn't do stuff...it'd mean you couldn't touch me the same.

...but I wouldn't like it. [This is mumbled even more quietly, grudgingly.]

...It's like that. [He burrows is face into Ken's hair again, glasses a complete mess. It's unlikely he'll be able to see clearly through them when they get up to their feet again.]

Even if we're still together... You got hurt... and I couldn't stop it.... So...

[He doesn't like it.]

Well, don't fucking die and maybe you can protect me. [Ken huffs.] If you wanna make sure I'm okay...then you can't ever die again.

[He died trying to protect Ken.... but there's no point arguing that. Instead, Chikusa only lets his eyes slide shut.]

...I'm tired, Ken...

[Even if he just woke up. He feels like he's burned through everything inside of himself in the blink of an eye.]

You're always tired, byon. [Truer words have never been spoken. But Ken shifts, wrapping himself around Chikusa a bit instead of just laying on top of him.] You gonna sleep right here?

...You're not going.... right...? [Chikusa's voice is often low, mutters and murmurs and sighs. Right now, however, his voice is small, and different.]

I'm not going anywhere unless you do, byon. [Ken turns his head, ear pressed to Chikusa's chest, trying to hear his heartbeat...but there isn't one. This isn't news to Ken, really; he and Chikusa have curled up together to sleep before while they've been here, and that Chikusa doesn't have a heartbeat is something Ken's picked up on before. But it's never really bothered him the way it does today, now that he remembers why Chikusa doesn't have one.

He can at least listen to Chikusa's breathing, though. It's something. An audible reminder that Chikusa is warm and here and, if not alive, then a reasonable facsimile of it.

His fingers curl into the fabric of Chikusa's clothes.] Don't leave, Kakipi. [There's a plaintive note in his voice, because he thinks Chikusa is leaving. Not physically, but the way his mind goes distant and his eyes go blank when he's alive and upright without actually being awake. Ken remembers it now, and remembers he hates it.]

[Don't leave.]

[Simple words. A simple request. Yet actually doing so isn't easy at all. Chikusa knows this, now. Many of his memories are still distant to him, out of reach, forgotten, but he can remember enough when he was herded with all the other children, Ken included. He can remember having no way to escape, no way to stop the atrocious things done to them... except for his mind to go somewhere else, if only to stay some likeness of unbroken.]

[And then he would come back. And everything still hurt, was still horrible.. until one day, it wasn't.]

[By then, he knows, it was already too late for him. Chikusa wishes he knew of a way to stop. He really does. If he could actually choose when to 'leave', that would be fine, but this... It's hardly any choice at all.]

[He'd never choose to leave Ken. Especially when he's just found him again, for real.]

[Promises he can't keep are promises Chikusa doesn't particularly like to make... especially since his last desperate oath to keep Axel safe had failed so horribly. So all he can do is curl in tighter, and try to keep the smell of Ken so close permanently trapped in his lungs.]

....I'll be back. I always do....

[It's the best he can give.]

[ Ken whines a bit at that - it's hardly the answer he wants - but doesn't protest. He hates Chikusa leaving, he doesn't want him to go away inside his head, but...he also recognizes it's not necessarily a conscious choice on Chikusa's part. If he can't stop, then he can't...and the promise that he'll come back is at least something.

What's more, in Ken's experience, Chikusa always has come back. Even from the dead, astoundingly enough. So it's a little easier to trust that assertion now.

Ken shifts until he can tuck his face into the crook of Chikusa's neck, where he can all but bury his nose in Chikusa's scent, and closes his eyes.]

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[Open] It hurts sometimes to find where you begin

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