digestif | week 6, saturday

[ it probably took a while for majima to calm down after . . . that. he's exhausted in all senses of the word; as of right now, there is no fire left in his usually red-hot soul.

this reflects in his answer to mizuki's abrupt question. his voice is hoarse due to all the screeching he'd done, especially as the trial had neared its end, but even beyond that, there's a lack of affect that makes him sound... different. ]

I don't fuckin' know anything anymore, Mizucchi.

[ they hate this - they hate hearing him sound so hollowed out, and they hate knowing where this is going to go, but they have no choice. The actions they're going to need to take in the coming days mean that hiding this from him is simply no longer possible. In their heart, they want to go comfort him. But their brain knows that they can't endanger themself more than Ishikirimaru already has. This is bigger than Mizuki, and bigger than what they feel for Majima, too. ]

Mmm. I know how you feel. [ or, rather, they knew this is how he would feel. A pause. ] ... Do you want to understand?

[ he collapses lamely onto a lounge chair, though he does not invite them to sit with him. they're welcome to do so, of course, but his body language does not read as openly welcoming as it usually does.

forgive him. it's been a long day. ]

I'm not gonna stop ya.

[ if they went over there, would he take it as them trying to win him to their side with affection? They don't want him to think that. They don't expect to be forgiven. It's not their role to be forgiven - they only want to save as many people as they can, no matter the cost, whether its lives or the bonds they should never have had in the first place.

so even though their heart is overflowing with worry, and sadness for him, and fear that they'll be rejected for this, be hated by him for it - they lock it all away and continue after a breath. ]

I knew from the beginning. Ishikirimaru-san confided in me. [ ... ] ... He's doing this to protect us. I don't think he was in the wrong - not this time, and not with Luna-san, either. If we want to stay alive - if we want to prevent this game from hurting more people and get a peaceful end, we need to be willing to remove the threats. That's why all the trials end in an execution. It's that sort of "game."

. . .

[ he does not react in any way. in fact, it's almost... unsettling, how blank he is. it's like a calm before a storm. ]

Is there anything else ya haven't told me?

... That's it. Most likely... I'm going to use my power to keep Uchiha-kun from getting executed... I didn't know it was him, but I told Ishikirimaru-san I'd protect his partner if things went south today.

[ his coldness is somehow worse than the rage they'd expected, but at least it's easier to answer. ]

It's the truth that I've never hurt anyone. But it's also the truth that I've covered for what he's done before. That's my sin to bear. [ a pause. ] ... I didn't tell you this because I thought it wasn't my secret to share... or that was my excuse. The truth is that I'm simply selfish.

[ they didn't want him to leave. they'd really been about to tell him that day, on the bench, but he'd been so warm and comfortable and he'd touched them so gently that they wanted to pretend. just for a little while. ]

[ . . .

to continue the highly uncharacteristic reactions he's shown them in the past few minutes,

he leans forward in his seat and starts to cry. ]

-- Goro-kun...

[ they'd been preparing for frigid words and condemnations, or demands to know why, at least - there's no way in hell they could have prepared for this. He seemed like the type of man who wasn't even capable of shedding tears. They should have known better, by this point; despite how he looks, he's so soft inside they can barely comprehend how he lives in the underbelly of society without falling apart. Their heart constricts painfully at the sight of him like this. It's their fault. They take a step towards him, unconsciously, hand half-raising to touch him, but they stop themself - he probably doesn't want them near him. This isn't the kind of pain a few suave words and a gentle touch can heal.

There's a lump in their throat; they swallow it down as best they can. They're not allowed these tears. ]

It's going to be okay. I promise that I'm going to end this. [ their voice wavers slightly nonetheless. ] ... Please don't cry. I...

[ as they approach him, they'll notice that while his broad shoulders are shaking, while a man his size shouldn't look this small and almost pathetic, it's not tears of sadness he's crying.

it's... relief.

he wipes at his eye with the sleeve of his jacket, small peals of laughter leaving his mouth as color slowly returns to his face. ]

Don't fuckin' scare me like that, Mizucchi. Shit.

[ Don't scare him like that...?

All they can do is stare at him as they process what he just said and what's actually happening here. ]

I'm not trying to scare you. I'm serious. [ it's almost a soft protest, but it's not much of one - there's a tinge of disbelief to their voice, because they refuse to believe they're not misreading this situation in some way. He's shedding actual tears. In relief? Over what? Them not killing anyone personally...? Is what they did all that different? Oh, but he's not throwing them aside or casting them out, and they're all too eager to reach for that hope; they can't stop themself from asking: ] ... You're accepting it?

[ they can't stop themself from hesitantly, finally letting their hand touch his shoulder, so lightly and uncertainly -- but they don't like seeing him like this, even if the only thing keeping them from crying, too is practice and sheer willpower. ]

Edited 2019-03-31 05:34 (UTC)

I know ya are—I am, too.

[ he slides the unwieldy gauntlet off his hand before placing it over theirs and running his thumb over the top.

they aren't perfect, of course. he knows this, and he knows that what they're doing isn't exactly noble. but they are kind. he may not be able to completely see eye-to-eye with their level of pragmatism, but... he can accept it. "i'm simply selfish," his ass. sure, they may not wear their heart on their sleeve the way he does, but they do care. and that's the part that matters most to him.

when he looks up at them, his eye is still a little misty, but he's smiling. ]

I thought you were gonna say you've been lyin' point-blank to my face this whole time. That ya knew exactly how I felt about all this shit, that you've been usin' me as a damn crutch, an' that ya still had the balls to look at me the way ya do... god.

[ Haven't they been lying? They feel like they have - they knew who the killer was two weeks ago, and they knew this week, too, but they said nothing. A lie of omission. That's how Mizuki sees it, at least. So much of their mind is still convinced they shouldn't love him; the guilt they feel approaches self-sabotage. It would be easier if he hated them for this - some part of them honestly believes that.

But he doesn't. ]

But, I... [ they start to protest, mouth hanging open for just a second or two; then they stop, a complicated expression coming over their face, and after a moment, shake their head. ] ... None of that was a lie. I just... didn't want you to leave.

[ they admit it with an air of defeat, lips drawn in a bitter line even as they lean down to wipe away his tears with their other hand. Their fingers tremble just slightly. ]

... In the end, I'm still the lonely kid, after all, [ they mumble, seemingly more to themself than to him. ]

There's a difference between not sayin' somethin' an' deliberately lyin'. Even I get why ya didn't say anythin'.

[ that, at least, is the distinction he makes.

at their touch, and their whisper, he can no longer resist being away from them. he stands up and pulls them closer, wrapping his arms around their shoulders. he rests a hand on top of their head, tucking them into the safety of his shoulder—at least, he hopes it feels like that, to them. ]

C'mere.

[ when he stands up, they actually step back, uncertain and apologetic all at once, but they can't go very far before they're swept up in his embrace, dress shoes scuffing against the floor. The warmth of his arms envelops them, and suddenly, they're being cradled against him. And, all at once, the understanding that they're being forgiven hits them. They came into this prepared to lose everything, and that hadn't changed even when they ended up in this game, instead; they might make friends, they might care, but they weren't supposed to, and they had to be ready to lose it all. All of their relationships, they've treated as temporary. Once they're pressed into doing unsavory things, even if it's for the sake of something better, it would be harder and harder for anyone to like them as an individual. They'd accepted that.

Yet here is Majima, recognizing what they're doing. Being fine with it, even if he doesn't agree with what they're doing. Still holding them in his arms -- still loving them. They had tried to seal away any sadness they felt about their situation and where it left them in order to better endure what they'd have to do. Now, they feel tears welling up in their eyes. ]

Goro-kun...

[ they're so damned sad they can barely take it. They don't want to see any more people get hurt - they don't want to have to sacrifice anyone else - more than anything, they don't want to be alone. They don't want to leave him behind. It hurts so much.

Mizuki's thin arms curl around his back, clutching desperately at the fabric of his jacket, and their shoulders just barely tremble. ]

[ as soon as they begin to shake, majima tightens his hold around them like they're falling apart and he's the only thing that can keep them together (which may be truer than he might think, except figuratively rather than literally). he brings one hand up to the back of their head and starts rubbing, his fingers carding through their hair as he recognizes that they're trying so damn hard not to break down.

this surge of emotion only serves to strengthen his love for them, because he understands the importance of them showing this side of themself to him. they've allowed themself to be at their most vulnerable, which to him drives home the idea that he's important to them, too.

deep somewhere inside himself, he laughs. it really took him long enough to realize this much. idiot. ]

Don't cry, ya hear me? We all already know I'm lame as hell—you're supposed to be the cool one here. [ he whispers reassuringly.

slowly, gently, he starts to lead them over to the bed they've called theirs for the past week, but not for the reason they may have come to expect from him. for one, all he takes off are his shoes and his jacket before climbing onto the far side of the mattress, pointedly staying atop the covers as he pats the free pillows next to him. ]

C'mon, lie down with me. I'm here for ya.

-- Sorry. I know...

[ They have to be strong. They took on this job because they're strong - strong enough to look out for Akase, strong enough to cast aside Hisato, strong enough to sacrifice themself and 7 innocent people for the greater good. They're trying to be strong here, too. They wish they were actually as strong as they want to be, and that all of that wasn't eating them up inside deep where they buried it all. Mizuki's the one who was sneaking around Majima's back, and now he's the one comforting them, somehow. Pathetic - pathetic, pathetic...

Still, they can't push him away. They don't know why they can't. When he leads them over, they follow; when he beckons them to lay with him, they hesitate for a second or three before only allowing themself to sit on the edge of the bed, miserably wiping at their tears with the patch of bare skin between their glove and the cuff of their blouse. ]

... I shouldn't have gotten this close to you... I've made so many mistakes. I should know better, and I still...

[ . . . ugh. how many times has he said the same thing about the people who'd had some sort of profound impact on him? saejima, lee, nishitani, makoto... mizuki is so much like him, it hurts to think about. goddamn it.

when they remain seated at the edge, he hesitates, then brings himself over to close the distance between them and lay by their side. ]

Oi, Mizuki. [ oh.

slowly, he reaches out to cover their hand with his, closing his fingers around theirs and squeezing. he hopes it'll get them to look his way, because if they do, they'll see a quiet intensity in his eye; this time, there are no tears, but there is an unmistakable sense of sorrow anyway. ] Are ya sayin' you regret it? Do ya regret us?

[ the sound of their name prompts them to look over at him - eyes a little red, face remarkably clean otherwise. They even cry gracefully, it seems.

Do they regret it? Mizuki stares into his good eye, reads the somber gravity in it. He's so serious about them; they knew that even before they started feeling seriously about him. They know their answer in an instant just seeing his face. As much as logic dictates that yes, they should regret this, all this is doing is hurting them both, they don't. All this time they've been struggling, he's protected them, forgiven them, been there for them, made them laugh. They can't throw all of that away. ]

No... I don't. [ without him, they'd be alone - they do have allies, they have partners, they have Beauty, but Majima is their truest friend here, and they don't know how far they'd fall without him. They retract their hand from his, but only for a moment - then it's on his cheek, instead, touching him lightly, as if he'll shatter when they move away. ] ... My regret is that I have to let you go.

[ because he's precious and kind and charming, and they're lonely, and even if everything goes perfectly, there's not a single chance they can ever meet again. That is their regret. This is nothing more than a sweet delusion - one they're too late to dispel and too deeply entrenched in to want to. They lean down, long hair draping across him; they hesitate with a quiet breath only inches away, but their lips fall on his soon after, soft, sad, yearning. ]

Edited 2019-04-02 01:55 (UTC)

Then do it when ya have to. But right now, nothin' is gonna take me away from ya, an' I'll fight like hell to keep ya from goin' away too soon.

[ he allows them to drape themself over him, their curtain of hair cascading over their shoulders like a screen that shuts the two of them off from the rest of the world. as he gazes up at them, he is absolutely confident for the first time that his feelings for them are so much more than a passing physical infatuation, an attempt to fill the hole that life always seems to carve out of him whenever things start looking up, a desperate cry of two lonely people who just want something in their godforsaken lives to make sense.

this realization gives him the courage to do what he couldn't before, when he had been too scared to lose the special connection he and mizuki had.

majima goro is done doing what's acceptable, what's expected of him, what's right.

majima goro is going to do what he wants to do.

so he does, as he cups their cheek and says with conviction, ]

I love you, Mizuki.

[ and kisses them the way he's wanted to—truly, deeply, wholeheartedly—for so long. ]

[ They know. They've known since that first night together. Back then, they could at least blame it on the heat of the moment; this time, there's no denying that he means it. They can hear it in the steadiness of his voice and feel it in the heat of his kiss - he loves them. And, even though they know, it still gives them pause to hear it spoken aloud for the first time.

He shouldn't say that - he's setting himself up for heartbreak, and them, too. The words fill them with a rush of adrenaline, heady and excited, and they feel their fingers ache to hold him close and keep him to themself; simultaneously, they feel a chill run down their spine, knowing he's crossed a line that they can't return from now. But - like a reminder in their mind - but, he knows, too. He knows full well what this means. He just said it himself. And they know, too. It's no longer a valid reason to hold back.

Do they love him? He's important, he's dear to them, they like being around him and being with him - these things are facts, and the reason they trusted him with their body first and their heart later. Love, though -- can they love a violent, one-eyed ex-yakuza from 160 years in the past, even only in a dream like this competition? Should they? He's so far from anything they could have imagined... Mizuki, uncharacteristically, doesn't know how to respond. They need to think more. But even knowing that, they find themself returning the kiss, lips full against his as their elbows sink into the bed and their body weight sinks onto him. They steal the confession from his mouth with a gentle, grateful passion, and they only stop for a moment to take a short breath congested with some emotion and give him the only answer they have in a quiet whisper against his lips. ]

I know.

[ and they're kissing him again, and praying that the tears welling up in their eyes don't fall a second time. ]

[ there is no hunger or lust in majima's body as mizuki falls onto him. they may not have said it back, but he knows them, and that means being aware that they are trying so damn hard to keep themself together despite everything. their greatest strength is also their weakness; their denial of vulnerability shows how much they really do care.

it doesn't change the fact that he loves them regardless. that's just the simple truth. he's told them himself so many times—he isn't a man who goes back on his word. he's done living a life of regrets, what ifs, and if onlys.

he's just about to accept their decision and let them go when they dip back down and kiss him again of their own accord. that in itself gives him an answer beyond what words can say, and he folds his arms around their body as they open their heart to him. ]

week 6, saturday

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