synflux | [ catch-all ]

[ The little courier curse has been with Nanami since it's delivered the cd player, helping the ex-salaryman carry things when needed, and staying in the man's room when there's nothing to do. Nanami doesn't mind having it around, doesn't question why it doesn't return to its master. Perhaps it's part of the birthday present - a temporary little companion. When the month nears its end and the little thing still doesn't make any moves to return to Geto even though it gazes forlornly at the Brimstone quarters every time they pass it, Nanami takes it out for a walk before carrying it to Geto's door.

Arms full with the curse, he can only tap the tip of his shoe against the door in lieu of a proper knock. ]

Geto-san. It's Nanami and the... mini-you.

( It takes him a little longer than is strictly necessary to get up from where he's been staring at the same spot on the wall for who knows how long. At least he stops to make sure he looks reasonably put together - not much he can do about the eyebags, but that's an old chic by now - opening the door with an unimpressed air. His gaze drifts over Nanami first, assessing for damage, and then his mouth pulls down. )

It looks nothing like me.

( Kick a guy, why don't you? )

[ Reasonably put together is still very much different from Geto's usual look these days, so forgive Nanami when his arms tighten around the curse as if he's reluctant to return it to that man's care. Not a good look at all and that's coming from the man who's carried Geto around when he was turning into a liquid not too long ago. ]

That's not what I meant.

[ The little one looks cuter. ]

I didn't know what else to call it. What do you call it?

( He's had this conversation very recently. The naming of curses, and Geto unlikely to bother unless someone else did it first. It sticks in his throat for a minute, knowing how blissfully unaware he'd been when he'd laughed at his daughters' childish attempts to imprint of even the ugliest of his hoard. He hadn't known then that it should hurt.

His gaze stays on the curse in Nanami's arms instead of at his friend's face. )

That one doesn't have a name. Or much of a purpose. You can exorcise it if you want.

( It's not strong, it's not useful. What's the point of it? )

[ The little thing cowers and squirms in Nanami's arm. Surely, the man wouldn't do that to him? What has the curse done but obey all of its master's orders anyway? ]

Don't be a dick. I'm not exorcising your pet.

[ Nanami waits past politeness before releasing the little helper into Geto's room. ]

What's going on with you? Did you two fight?

( His expression twitches semi-violently, but then all the tension drops from his frame a second later. He goes back to looking less like the cartoon villain he plays at, and more hollow-eyed man. The older version of his teenaged self, a little broader, similarly haggard. )

No. ( Yes? Maybe. But it's not about Satoru, at least not fully. Some of the fear, yes, some of the clinginess. He isn't to blame though. Geto looks at Nanami and then with zero inflection. ) My daughters are dead.

( He almost makes it through blank faced, but it fractures at the very last second, a furious flutter of eyelashes as he tries to blink it away. He tries to power through, words thick. )

My daughters died. And I am trying to not lose my fucking mind, so you'll forgive me if I'm not exactly - ( What? He doesn't know. His hand white knuckles the doorframe like he's seasick. ) - all I know is how to be violent. I'm trying ...

( It falters off. He looks away down the corridor, eyes wet. )

I didn't know.

[ They're teenagers, helpless in the face of loss and their own emotions. Where Geto's face drops its mask, Nanami's escapes into a blank stare. One blink later, they both have shaken off the habits of old.

There are no words that could match the kind of grief Geto must be feeling. Nanami is good at putting truths into words, but comfort is an entirely different animal. So he'll reach out instead and gently pry his senpai's fingers from the door frame before sliding closer, pulling the other man into a tight hug, offering him something more solid than futuristic structures made of lightweight materials.

Voice gentle and soft like he's speaking to a tired child: ]

I'm sorry to hear that, Geto-san. Truly sorry.

( He isn't expecting to be touched. He almost flinches away from it, but then Nanami pulls him closer and Geto goes, and the sharp inhale that he pulls through his nose is too loud between them. It's comfort, and it's awful, and he hates it -. Clings to it like it's the only thing left, fingers tight in the fabric of his old friend's shirt and his face pressed to his shoulder. He's always been a crier. He'd forgotten in the haze of everything else, all those years of swallowing it down, forgotten that he even felt things at all, once.

Now there's no other way around it. )

I loved them.

( A thick confession, muffled. ) I loved them so much. What was it all for if I couldn't even keep them safe? What do I do, Nanami?

I...

[ The terrible truth is that none of them were ever good at keeping their own or even themselves safe. Non-sorcerers were the ones that needed protection, needed sacrifice, needed, needed, needed. So the strong ones gave and gave and gave some more, willing to turn their own children into offerings to keep Humanity safe from the curses and dangers born from itself. ]

It's not your fault.

[ Nudging Geto back into the room without ever letting go, Nanami just holds the other man. It's alright if it's behind closed doors where nobody will bear witness to this moment of weakness, no? ]

You saved their lives, senpai. [ A slip of the tongue, surely, forgiven given the circumstances? ] You kept them safe and let them grow up free. That is more than anyone else was willing to give them.

What happened after you... [ Died. Were killed. ] Please don't blame yourself.

It is.

( The protest comes quickly even though he lets Nanami move him. One hand comes up between them to rub furiously at his face, fingertips digging briefly too hard into the socket. )

Isn't it my fault? Didn't I know how it would end? I spread myself too thin that day, and I knew it. I knew my luck was running out. I knew it had to be then or not at all. So I knew how it would end. ( Does he get to feel this grief when he's caused so much of it all on his own? Is this the universe paying him back? ) I told them I loved them, and I wished them goodbye, and I still went knowing I might not come back. So didn't I kill them? I left them behind.

( The bitterness seeps, he does not deserve kindness. )

I should have done more. They deserved more. They deserved better than me.

[ Showing up a little early, still amused by Cloud's demand and intention to pay for everything, Nanami finds a quiet corner to wait for the other man. He's dressed up a little, wearing one of his favourite blue shirts paired with jeans, and of course their precious tanabata prize sitting comfortably on his wrist.

It was a cute game to play, especially since Nanami pretended not to be the other half until it was almost too late, and then put the bracelet on as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Why is he still wearing it many days after the festival? Who can tell? ]

[ It was the strangest game, but something in the walking and the talking and watching how Nanami handled the familiar little boy at his hip, it changed how Cloud’s reaction was shaped when the absurd reveal came about. Instead of annoyance came a strange, peculiar sense of… admiration, almost. Endearment, almost. He doesn’t know if there’s even a name for it. Does it matter?

Cloud doesn’t let it bother him regardless, because there he is a couple moments later walking into the bar with the matching bracelet bright on his own wrist, made all the brighter with the dark denims and leathers of his own outfit. Whatever image he must present, he doesn’t give it a single thought when he makes a beeline to Nanami’s table. ]

You’re quick. Did I leave you waiting long?

[ It was a cute game. The whole afternoon had been a sweet affair, much in the spirit of its good-natured host. Even the little self had given Nanami some sense of peace and not at all worried if the little boy had run into people he shouldn't have.

It wasn't real.

Nothing in this neon-world is.

So there's no harm in wearing that bracelet and feeling charmed by the man with the golden hair and chaotic mako eyes. No harm in letting a fond smile settle on his lips at the question, answering with a gentle, teasing: ]

Only almost all of my life.

[ What is real and what isn't? Is Cloud? Is Nanami? But those are questions best saved for the middle of the night, when there wasn't anything to take his mind off the falsities and incongruities in his skull. Now, there's only Nanami, and the peculiar little warmth that his voice and his words and that little smile spark in Cloud's stomach.

Since the first night he's woken up in the older man's arms, those spinning questions haven't haunted him quite so much. ]

That long? Looks like I have big tab to clear.

[ In this alien city on its alien world, Cloud finds he doesn't give a damn what the rest of the bar thinks when he leans in over the table to tuck his gloved knuckle under Nanami's chin. ]

What do you want tonight? Sky's the limit. One-time special.

An eternity, Cloud. Endless days and nights of pining.

[ He tilts his head, eyes closing briefly at the playful touch. It's delightful, it's fun. Cloud isn't like any one he's ever met, but Nanami's never really tried dating anyone. Not like this. ]

Are you trying to get me drunk and pliant?

[ Resting his chin against Cloud's knuckles, his lashes flutter, eyes opening again, an almost sweet smile on his lips. ]

I'll have whisky, then.

[ In the atmospheric dim lighting of the bar, mako-bright eyes seem to almost glow, pupils themselves gleaming with an animal shine, strange and at odds with the way his mouth twitches so faintly in that ghosting smile of his. ]

Now that’s an idea. Call it a treat instead.

[ For the company, for the security, for the stability of his dreams these last nights where he hasn’t awoken with his head jumbled like a box of toys shaken about.

The bracelet jingles when his wrist turns, thumb pressing to Nanami’s mouth, swiping across his lower lip before pulling away. ]

On it. Don’t wither on me in the meantime.

[ And off Cloud goes again.

This time when he returns, it’s with two identical glasses in hand, perfect amber and one single ball of ice a piece. One gets set down in front of Nanami, while the other Cloud holds out as if for a toast even as he slides into the opposite seat. ]

Thanks. For coming all the way out here.

[ catch-all ]

@gorb | end of July

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not me legit welling up, nanamiiiiiii

senpaiiiii 😩

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@mesospheric | big spender Cloud

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