[It's fine. He can be not okay. Chuuya definitely doesn't expect him to be okay. Chuuya can't even imagine how conflicted he would be if he had killed Dazai rather than Randou. So they can stay there, and Chuuya can hold onto Akira while Akira holds onto him.
He thinks back to home, back to a time with the Sheep. When the little ones had trouble dealing with thunderstorms, some of the older ones- the ones with more empathy, not Chuuya- would sing to the kids or tell them stories to distract them. Maybe he should do that? Singing's out, Chuuya can barely hum, but maybe a story...]
One time, when it was raining, I was sitting inside a warehouse and watching water drop from a leaky ceiling. You know how if you count the time between a flash of lightning and the clap of thunder it tells you how far away the storm is? I thought I could do the same thing with the drips, except it'd tell me how hard it was raining outside. So I watched a drop fall, and I counted: one-one-thousand, two-one-thousand, three-one-thousand...
[It is a stupidly mundane story, but that's why he's telling it. To try and divert Akira's attention from the horrors he's seen over the last 24 hours.]
[. . . it's stupid, it's mundane, but it. . . helps. Akira pictures the leaky ceiling, the gentle thrum of rain beating against the rooftop. he pictures the water droplets condensing until they're too bit to stay stuck to the rafters, until they splatter on the wooden floor and scatter into thousands of tiny beads]
[he pictures that instead of Akechi's betrayed expression, blood pouring from his side]
It did. When the rain was heavier, the drops fell after a second or two. During the heaviest of the downpour, there wasn't even time to count to one before another fell. But then the storm started to drift away, and the drops came further and further apart. I started getting to five seconds. Then seven. Then ten.
And you know, an incredible thing happened, as the clouds receded and sun started to filter in through the cracks in the warehouse walls. Each drop- which was pretty far apart by now- fell at just the right place to reflect those beams of lights. It was like looking into a shining crystal as it reflected a fractured rainbow in all directions. And I sat there for a long, long time, watching those kaleidoscopic colors bounce in every direction.
It was like nature was offering up a trade, you know? "Hey, sorry it got gloomy there for a bit, here's some beauty to make up for it."
[Akira hasn't known Chuuya for longer than about ten weeks, but even so. . . in that short time period, he had never heard Chuuya speak so vividly, so beautifully]
[slowly, Akira lifts his head from Chuuya's shoulder to blink a bit owlishly at his friend, his expression slack and mouth partially open]
[It's amazing what kind of insight can be hidden behind the eyes of someone who's been taught to repress that kind of expression, isn't it?
Speaking of which, when Akira lifts his head, Chuuya instantly thinks he did something wrong. Was his story too boring to help? or is Akira going to tease him for talking about a mundane thing? This kind of vulnerability is not something he expresses often, and in the short time between when Akira lifts his head and when he starts speaking, Chuuya starts to retreat back to the familiar 'rough around the edges, street punk' face he shows.
But then Akira actually praises his words, sort of, and he just. Stops.]
...really?
[A half-second of vulnerability, and maybe a tiny bit of hope, before:]
I mean, it's just a dumb story. Boring stuff like that, it's supposed to calm people down, right? So I just picked something stupid to talk about.
[Akira's words are quiet but firm. not dumb at all]
It gave me something to think about. Something other than. . .
[blood and Akechi's face and the feel of flesh peeling back underneath his fingers, of bones cracking from the blade of his knife, the no-longer beating heart nestled in Akechi's chest cavity, deep red and covered in muscle and sinew--]
We can, if you want. I don't think I'll be getting much sleep, so stories would be nice. And we could invite Dazai too, maybe, since I don't think he'll be sleeping either. And I don't think he's ever done stories by a campfire before either.
[He won't push it if Akira says no, but maybe the three of them bonding over trying to ignore trauma is a good idea.]
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shortforever) wrote2020-06-06 12:09 pm
no subject
He thinks back to home, back to a time with the Sheep. When the little ones had trouble dealing with thunderstorms, some of the older ones- the ones with more empathy, not Chuuya- would sing to the kids or tell them stories to distract them. Maybe he should do that? Singing's out, Chuuya can barely hum, but maybe a story...]
One time, when it was raining, I was sitting inside a warehouse and watching water drop from a leaky ceiling. You know how if you count the time between a flash of lightning and the clap of thunder it tells you how far away the storm is? I thought I could do the same thing with the drips, except it'd tell me how hard it was raining outside. So I watched a drop fall, and I counted: one-one-thousand, two-one-thousand, three-one-thousand...
[It is a stupidly mundane story, but that's why he's telling it. To try and divert Akira's attention from the horrors he's seen over the last 24 hours.]
no subject
[he pictures that instead of Akechi's betrayed expression, blood pouring from his side]
Huh. . . [his voice is quiet] Did it work. . .?
no subject
And you know, an incredible thing happened, as the clouds receded and sun started to filter in through the cracks in the warehouse walls. Each drop- which was pretty far apart by now- fell at just the right place to reflect those beams of lights. It was like looking into a shining crystal as it reflected a fractured rainbow in all directions. And I sat there for a long, long time, watching those kaleidoscopic colors bounce in every direction.
It was like nature was offering up a trade, you know? "Hey, sorry it got gloomy there for a bit, here's some beauty to make up for it."
no subject
[Akira hasn't known Chuuya for longer than about ten weeks, but even so. . . in that short time period, he had never heard Chuuya speak so vividly, so beautifully]
[slowly, Akira lifts his head from Chuuya's shoulder to blink a bit owlishly at his friend, his expression slack and mouth partially open]
Ah. . .
[. . .]
. . . that was really poetic of you.
no subject
Speaking of which, when Akira lifts his head, Chuuya instantly thinks he did something wrong. Was his story too boring to help? or is Akira going to tease him for talking about a mundane thing? This kind of vulnerability is not something he expresses often, and in the short time between when Akira lifts his head and when he starts speaking, Chuuya starts to retreat back to the familiar 'rough around the edges, street punk' face he shows.
But then Akira actually praises his words, sort of, and he just. Stops.]
...really?
[A half-second of vulnerability, and maybe a tiny bit of hope, before:]
I mean, it's just a dumb story. Boring stuff like that, it's supposed to calm people down, right? So I just picked something stupid to talk about.
no subject
[Akira's words are quiet but firm. not dumb at all]
It gave me something to think about. Something other than. . .
[blood and Akechi's face and the feel of flesh peeling back underneath his fingers, of bones cracking from the blade of his knife, the no-longer beating heart nestled in Akechi's chest cavity, deep red and covered in muscle and sinew--]
. . . anyway.
It helped.
no subject
[He noticed that paused though. Hm.]
Want me to keep doing it? Like, describing what I see. Maybe it could be like a bedtime story or whatever.
[He's offering it there if Akira needs the distraction still.]
Or like, if you need it, we could camp out together. Like we did before, as roommates.
no subject
[he likes the sound of that. somehow, he doesn't think he'll be able to sleep well at the cabin tonight. even if he isn't alone]
We can tell stories around the campfire. Instead of scary stories they can be really boring stories with a lot of poetic imagery.
[aka yes please keep going, Chuuya. it's extremely therapeutic]
no subject
[He won't push it if Akira says no, but maybe the three of them bonding over trying to ignore trauma is a good idea.]
no subject
Let's do it.
The s'mores will be on me.
no subject
[Oh lordy they get to have the 'what is a smore' conversation at some point.]
no subject
I should probably head back to the cabin and get changed, though. Take a shower, wash up. . .
[he trails off because fuck. how is he supposed to shower with one eye]