[At first, Souji can't help but beam at the obvious pride and joy that Mutsu still finds in his old master, the love and admiration that clearly runs so deep that time will never mar or fade it. On different sides or not, he thinks that this is the sword that Sakamoto Ryouma truly deserved - although he privately entertains some regret that he never put Mutsu to his full use. Then again, from what he can tell, Mutsu seems to share his view on the future of swords, even though he himself is one. A strange dichotomy, but perhaps that's what it's like, to truly have a modern and pioneering spirit.
But then, the last lingering traces of his smile fade from his eyes when he sees that look on Mutsu's face, the way his entire body seems to change as the grief from all that time ago settles on his shoulders. It's as if the sun is suddenly obscured, like a shadow falls on them both, and Souji actually shudders, feeling colder. Feeling a familiar ache start once more in his chest at the sudden tension, he swallows hard, lowering his gaze.]
I'm sorry. I had no right- I shouldn't have spoken of such sad things. It's just... I want you to believe me when I say I truly liked your master. I really admired his spirit. [His lips go a bit paler still as he presses them together.] I'm not the sort of person who can pass judgement on those responsible for his death. I'm probably no better, in the end. But a man like that... he deserved a better death than that.
( This is why, even as much as he likes Souji, he keeps a certain amount of distance between them. They really shouldn't interact with the past-- this is why there's a rule for it back home, right? There are things they know that those in the past don't know and it hurts to be on the same timeline but farther ahead. Knowing really, really hurts. And knowing that time is slowly ticking... how much longer until things progress to that point?
He looks away, re-adjusting himself so that he can carry Souji back to the apartment. The sooner he gets there, the sooner he can put space between them again. )
You-- (All of you. Not just Souji but especially Souji since he doesn't know. ) --don't get to talk... ( His voice is quiet and hard but not harsh-- it's sad, it's hurt, he doesn't want to talk about it. )
You don't know. ( What it was like. How he felt. How everyone felt. What happened after. The lack of answers even after all of these years. ) So don't.
( That's his warning.
He likes Souji. He really does. It's really not fair, you know, that he likes Souji. He's a good swordsman; a real samurai. He thinks maybe if they weren't on different sides or maybe if they had met sooner in their lives, their masters might get along. But that can't happen. Even in this place, with it's strange circumstances, can't change that. Souji Okita is with the Shinsengumi and Mutsunokami Yoshiyuki is Sakamoto's sword. They're stubborn and proud and though they may come to respect each other, they can't be friends. Not as long as Souji doesn't know. He doesn't know and he should hear it from someone better than himself, he thinks. )
... I believe ya. ( He really does. ) But save it, alright? Don't go feeling sorry for me or Ryoma-san.
( Even if Sakamoto deserved better, he doesn't need the Shinsengumi feeling sorry about it. )
It's not pity. [He grasps the front of Mutsu's clothes for a moment, not aggressively so, but as if what he's saying is so important to him that he feels like he needs a secure point between them, some way of putting the weight that his thin and raspy voice can't carry. His hand is thin, though, and powerless. It shakes with the effort of holding on. Nonetheless, he tries, gazing imploringly up at Mutsu's face.]
Please, I want you to know that. You both deserve better than that. No matter how he died, he lived a great man, and that is- that matters m- it has to count-
[Then the grip tightens and Souji's voice disappears, drowned in the foulness inside him as it once more rises up and tries to choke him, his thin body shaking as he doubles up in pain. It's as if there really is something alive inside him, and every time he allows himself to feel, every time he laughs or his chest tightens with love, with anguish, it wakes up and tries to fight him. Is that what it's trying to do? Maybe if he stops feeling anything at all, finally it will go away, and he can rest. If he just gives up-
Turning his head away he finally manages to choke up the burning liquid which threatens to drown him, drawing a sharp, labored breath, and then another, and another. He keeps his head lowered, his eyes cast down, as he forces blood-stained words across his lips.]
But you're right. I don't know, and I have no right to talk about things I'm ignorant of. Maybe I always will be, right? I won't live to the end of the year, so there's a lot of things I'll never know. [A bright smile, one that is painful beyond the purely physical.] I've always been like that, because knowing for sure is scary, so I don't look for truth. But sometimes, I guess ignorance can hurt people, and... I'm sorry.
( His hands are moving to catch Souji, thinking the gesture means the swordsman is about to fall over. Ugh, they really should get back home before Souji keels over and he has to explain things to Kashuu (and later, Yamato). Instead, Souji holds his ground, and confronted directly by him, he really can't look away. He can't break his eyes away and he furrows his brows together, his face a mix of concern and confusion. What is he doing?
Ah. Mutsu's lips part, as if he's ready to speak-- to cut Souji off before he can even start, but nothing comes out. Where does he even start? Stop that. He knows. He knows, he knows, he knows. Don't remind him. He doesn't have to be reminded by one of you guys. He doesn't want to hear this from one of you guys. Stop that.
He's almost grateful when the coughs start again because at least it's enough to make him stop. And then he feels immediately guilty for feeling that way. It's been a long time... does he still carry some grudge in his heart?
Souji smiles. Despite everything, not knowing the whole story, he smiles, and he feels that feeling again. That rotten feelig he felt back then when everything was over. Sakamoto had died before Kondou, Okita, Hijikata and more than anything, Mutsu had wanted them dead too. He wanted them to die. This swordsman in front of him who had been kind to him since he'd arrived, so respectful to his master, and could smile at him now? He wan'ted him to die and he was going to die soon. )
( Okita is going to die soon. Die before his time, go out before he could do more. Just like Sakamoto had. Like Kondo, like Hijikata, like Kashuu, like Yamato, like himself. It's not fair. It wasn't fair. They should have had more time. If they couldn't have had better, they at least deserved more--
Ugh, he really can't take this anymore and he swoops down, arms reaching around and under Souji to pick him up. He'll carry Souji. He'll carry him back home because the sooner they get there, the sooner he can drop him off for someone else to take care of. )
I told ya to stop already! ( Stupid Okita. Stupid, stubborn, Shinsengumi. His heart feels like it's been poked and prodded with a stick until old wounds began to open up again but he won't let Okita see that anymore. He's Mutsunokami Yoshiyuki. The sword of Sakamoto Ryoma and he won't let anyone from the Shinsengumi catch him feeling like this. ) So knock it off, will ya? Enough about the past and everything; this is the future ya know?
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But then, the last lingering traces of his smile fade from his eyes when he sees that look on Mutsu's face, the way his entire body seems to change as the grief from all that time ago settles on his shoulders. It's as if the sun is suddenly obscured, like a shadow falls on them both, and Souji actually shudders, feeling colder. Feeling a familiar ache start once more in his chest at the sudden tension, he swallows hard, lowering his gaze.]
I'm sorry. I had no right- I shouldn't have spoken of such sad things. It's just... I want you to believe me when I say I truly liked your master. I really admired his spirit. [His lips go a bit paler still as he presses them together.] I'm not the sort of person who can pass judgement on those responsible for his death. I'm probably no better, in the end. But a man like that... he deserved a better death than that.
no subject
He looks away, re-adjusting himself so that he can carry Souji back to the apartment. The sooner he gets there, the sooner he can put space between them again. )
You-- ( All of you. Not just Souji but especially Souji since he doesn't know. ) --don't get to talk... ( His voice is quiet and hard but not harsh-- it's sad, it's hurt, he doesn't want to talk about it. )
You don't know. ( What it was like. How he felt. How everyone felt. What happened after. The lack of answers even after all of these years. ) So don't.
( That's his warning.
He likes Souji. He really does. It's really not fair, you know, that he likes Souji. He's a good swordsman; a real samurai. He thinks maybe if they weren't on different sides or maybe if they had met sooner in their lives, their masters might get along. But that can't happen. Even in this place, with it's strange circumstances, can't change that. Souji Okita is with the Shinsengumi and Mutsunokami Yoshiyuki is Sakamoto's sword. They're stubborn and proud and though they may come to respect each other, they can't be friends. Not as long as Souji doesn't know. He doesn't know and he should hear it from someone better than himself, he thinks. )
... I believe ya. ( He really does. ) But save it, alright? Don't go feeling sorry for me or Ryoma-san.
( Even if Sakamoto deserved better, he doesn't need the Shinsengumi feeling sorry about it. )
no subject
Please, I want you to know that. You both deserve better than that. No matter how he died, he lived a great man, and that is- that matters m- it has to count-
[Then the grip tightens and Souji's voice disappears, drowned in the foulness inside him as it once more rises up and tries to choke him, his thin body shaking as he doubles up in pain. It's as if there really is something alive inside him, and every time he allows himself to feel, every time he laughs or his chest tightens with love, with anguish, it wakes up and tries to fight him. Is that what it's trying to do? Maybe if he stops feeling anything at all, finally it will go away, and he can rest. If he just gives up-
Turning his head away he finally manages to choke up the burning liquid which threatens to drown him, drawing a sharp, labored breath, and then another, and another. He keeps his head lowered, his eyes cast down, as he forces blood-stained words across his lips.]
But you're right. I don't know, and I have no right to talk about things I'm ignorant of. Maybe I always will be, right? I won't live to the end of the year, so there's a lot of things I'll never know. [A bright smile, one that is painful beyond the purely physical.] I've always been like that, because knowing for sure is scary, so I don't look for truth. But sometimes, I guess ignorance can hurt people, and... I'm sorry.
1/2
Ah. Mutsu's lips part, as if he's ready to speak-- to cut Souji off before he can even start, but nothing comes out. Where does he even start? Stop that. He knows. He knows, he knows, he knows. Don't remind him. He doesn't have to be reminded by one of you guys. He doesn't want to hear this from one of you guys. Stop that.
He's almost grateful when the coughs start again because at least it's enough to make him stop. And then he feels immediately guilty for feeling that way. It's been a long time... does he still carry some grudge in his heart?
Souji smiles. Despite everything, not knowing the whole story, he smiles, and he feels that feeling again. That rotten feelig he felt back then when everything was over. Sakamoto had died before Kondou, Okita, Hijikata and more than anything, Mutsu had wanted them dead too. He wanted them to die. This swordsman in front of him who had been kind to him since he'd arrived, so respectful to his master, and could smile at him now? He wan'ted him to die and he was going to die soon. )
no subject
Ugh, he really can't take this anymore and he swoops down, arms reaching around and under Souji to pick him up. He'll carry Souji. He'll carry him back home because the sooner they get there, the sooner he can drop him off for someone else to take care of. )
I told ya to stop already! ( Stupid Okita. Stupid, stubborn, Shinsengumi. His heart feels like it's been poked and prodded with a stick until old wounds began to open up again but he won't let Okita see that anymore. He's Mutsunokami Yoshiyuki. The sword of Sakamoto Ryoma and he won't let anyone from the Shinsengumi catch him feeling like this. ) So knock it off, will ya? Enough about the past and everything; this is the future ya know?
( Things can be different here. )
I'm gonna get ya home before ya keel over.