againstdespair | IC Contact

[He blinks slowly, uncomprehendingly, when Juzo actually laughs at his words. His confusion isn't so pronounced that it makes its way past his blank, numb mask, but it roils inside of him and twists at the tension built up.

What-- How was he supposed to take that reaction?

He has to steady a breath that comes too fast, dropping his hand back to his side. Focus. Focus on the request.

The tree of memories. Of course. The tree would be a more neutral party in this entire mess. He knew that it could bring memories to mind vividly with little trouble, regardless of where or who they came from.

It was something to do. Something to advance towards.

So he gives no verbal confirmation to Juzo. Instead, he turns heel and walks towards the tree.]

[It's not a long walk, but Juzo spends every second of it wondering if he might be sick. He hates the old fear living inside him, coiled like a snake in his guts, sending its poison through his veins. He should be over this by now. He should be stronger. He shouldn't feel so choked with terror at this stupid thing, this meaningless bullshit that he knows intellectually isn't as big a deal as it feels. But the fear has crystallized in him over the years until it's become a diamond he just can't chip away at.

He doesn't break the silence. What would even come out of his mouth if he tried? He doesn't know, and doesn't want to find out.

He knows what kind of petal to look for. By now, he's heard how this place works, and that he can more easily find what he needs by using a targeted approach. What he needs, right now, is Despair. Of everything he'd felt inside himself on that day, what he'll never forget is the taste of Despair he got—the first he'd ever truly felt. He'd thought he'd known what Despair felt like before he met Enoshima Junko. He'd been wrong.

Silently sorting through Peromei's petals, it doesn't take him that long to find the one. It's still the most powerfully despairing memory he has, after all. He's never been able to escape it, and tonight is no exception.

Juzo's fingers curl tightly around the petal, a fine tremor of fear rippling though his body. The rain, following their brief path to the tree, doesn't let up. Fat heavy drops slide cold and slick down his neck and chest.

Finally he forces his fingers open and turns to Kyosuke and extends his hand, offering up his own doom in his palm.]

Go ahead. Go ahead and take it.

[If only he could stop his voice from shaking just as much as his body is.]

Edited 2017-03-17 23:27 (UTC)

[The walk does little to ease the tension inside him. He vaguely wonders how long he can function at this level, so tightly wound that anything that looks at him the wrong way may see the business end of his sword. (Or a bolt of lightning, as the storm above could attest.)

But otherwise, his mind is blank. It's easier that way. Focus on the goal. Don't think of anything else other than the end destination.

Even framed by bitter rain and thunderclouds, there's something majestic about the tree. A memory of high school--of graduation day--rises unbidden, and Kyosuke shudders with the effort to keep his emotions in check. His teeth grind together as the glistening petals remind him of happier times.

Did he really have to go that far back for a happy, hopeful moment? It seemed like everything after that was tainted--too close to the proposed mission that ultimately cost him Chisa.

And possibly Juzo, too.

So he's almost glad when Juzo finally turns with the petal in hand, not meeting his gaze in favor of staring hard at the tiny object. He curls his fingers around it, already feeling a pang of discomfort as it glows.]

Edited 2017-03-18 01:30 (UTC)

[The memory that unfolds . . .

( . . . spans slightly more than that clip, starting with Junko's defeat of Juzo and exclamation that she knows his weakness, his secret feelings, before continuing to that, and then on to the point where she demands Juzo betray Kyosuke in exchange for her silence. But that's a good glimpse of it, right there.)

Juzo watches.

He'd half planned to turn on his heel and be already walking away, maybe even completely out of sight, by the time Kyosuke was done watching. But his legs are like jelly, his feet like stone. He can't move. He tells himself, as soon as he sees the disgust on Kyosuke's face, when the memory is over—then he'll leave. He'll run if he has to, to get the fuck out of here before Kyosuke can say anything to him about it. Maybe Juzo's resigned now to the end of their friendship, but that doesn't mean he wants his last memories of Kyosuke to be the dawning horror on his face when he realizes his best friend is a coward, a homo, a rapacious vulture who'd circled him all these years under false pretenses—

Somehow, even the memory of Kyosuke screaming at him to stop talking is better than that.

But he can't do anything about it yet, no matter how much he tries to move his legs. He's frozen with the same deep terror that had settled in his bones that day with Enoshima in the rain, where he made the wrong choice knowing it was the wrong choice because he was too locked up with fear to make the right one.

So he watches, his body tense, drenched with rain.

And there's one tiny fluttering part of him deep down inside that, despite the abject horror of everything else, thinks: I'm finally free.

Kyosuke knows. The worst has happened at last.

Juzo never has to feel this fear again. He just has to wonder if the misery of a life without Kyosuke will be worth it.]

Edited (wow) 2017-03-18 02:16 (UTC)

[The tension inside him turns painfully cold when he experiences Juzo flat on his back with Junko staring down at him. Even knowing that Juzo is alive and inches away, there is still that lance of dread in knowing how close Junko was to his friend.

Then there is the singsong accusation. A phone shoved in front of him, showing-- first a picture of himself, and then one of Juzo with said picture in a frame. Taunting scribbles on the glass, mocking laughter from a crowd of faces.

Juzo. Begging for it all to stop.

Kyosuke doesn't realize he's trembling until he tries to let go of the petal. He thrashes his arm violently to one side as he drops the petal, the action punctuated by lightning above them.

But his anger and upset are not aimed at Juzo. No, Junko and the laughing crowd earn his ire, for--

For using Juzo's feelings against him.

Distantly, he knows he's shocked by the revelation. (There were no signs, were there? Or was he blind to that as well?) But presently, the rage is boiling over. This isn't how he would have wanted to learn something so important. It should have been a happy moment, celebrated despite any awkwardness on both sides. They were friends, weren't they? He should have found out--

Exactly like he did with Chisa.

A retching gasp escapes him as he makes the comparison. The chaos and misery all come full circle, with what should have been two of his happiest moments with his best friends ruined by Despair.

Ruined by her.]

Sa--

[His shoulders shake, and he has to cut himself off.]

Juzo.

[It's a whisper. A plea.

Don't let her take anything else from us.]

Edited 2017-03-18 07:58 (UTC)

[The way Juzo envisioned this going, he was already gone by now. But here he's gone and fucked that up too, like he does everything else—

Once in a while, maybe it's for the best.

He does manage a couple steps backwards when Kyosuke tosses the petal aside. It's only been raining for the brief time they've been standing here, but the ground already feels squishy beneath his feet, and he stumbles when he steps back, barely catching himself. At least, he's going to blame the ground for that, not his own clumsiness in his wound-up desperation to escape the situation. Of course, by the time Kyosuke whispers his name, he hasn't managed to make his escape yet. He's barely even started. As quiet as the word is out of Kyosuke's mouth, he's close enough to hear it easily.

Juzo would have told himself that there wasn't much Kyosuke could say that would stop him in his tracks. It would have been a lie—who is he kidding? He's fucking helpless to deny Kyosuke anything. Any attempt to stop him from leaving would have worked, even if it had been the shout of disgust that Juzo had expected. But, that aside, there's not much that would have cut his escape off shorter than this—his name, on Kyosuke's lips. The one word says so much more than wait or stop would have. It pulls Juzo's heart up into his mouth. He can feel his body crackling with another sparking line of static again and he knows it's red or orange this time, not blue.

The rain doesn't stop, but it begins to ease, just a little.]

Munakata—

[Even though that's all he's ever called him, it feels wrong in response to this. Still, it takes a few tries to get it right.]

K. K . . . K, Kyosuke.

[His face feels so fucking stupid right now. He's painfully aware of how open it is, compared to his usual closed-off scowl.]

I . . .

[He doesn't know what to do. That, in itself, is strange and mystifying and upsetting. The emotions coiled inside him no longer feel potent and necessary to restrain; now he just wants them gone, because holding onto them hurts without powerful anger bolstering everything.

What can he even say? Should he apologize? Should he condemn Despair again for all this new information?

The answer comes out of the blue, quick and sudden and sharp with a crackle of electricity discharging into the air.

He sneezes.]

Edited 2017-03-18 08:48 (UTC)

—Whu? Huh?

[For half a second, Juzo thinks he's saying something else, and is confused as to why he can't understand the word when it comes out.

Oh. Wait. Oh.

. . . He can't help it. He's so tense after everything that he feels like he might just spontaneously shatter into a billion shards, but instead of anything that dramatic, it finds another way out: he starts laughing. It is definitely not as funny as all that, but right now, after everything today, it's the funniest fucking thing in the world, and goddammit, he'll take it. He couldn't hold it back if he tried.

He cracks the fuck up, lifting his hand to half-cover his face.]

[The first sneeze is followed by a second, less dramatic and with less accompanying sparks. Kyosuke breathes deep, acutely aware of how rich the air is with ozone, and tries to collect himself.

But Juzo cracks up, and a surreal feeling of bemusement settles over Kyosuke. He's exhausted and aches in ways he didn't think possible, trembling with the vestiges of anger ... and there's Juzo a few feet away, laughing like tomorrow will never arrive.]

Juzo.

[With less syllables, the name sounds strange leaving his tongue. He shakes his head at the innocuous thought, slowly averting his gaze to the empty square. His face is still largely blank, but some of the painful tension has eased away.]

I-- need to sit down. And I'm going to catch a cold.

Edited 2017-03-18 14:32 (UTC)

A-aah! Right—

[There's an argument to be made that, between laughing at Kyosuke for his stupidly timed sneeze and now cutting it off in his concern for his health, Juzo is encompassing the whole "best friend" spectrum here. Something like that.

He shakes his head, catches his breath, and finally manages to find it in himself to walk over to Kyosuke properly, though he has no idea what to do when he gets there. How does one offer to touch their best friend, in comfort and solidarity, after indirectly confessing to them? It feels like it's probably inappropriate to even think about it, right? But after a long pause, he finally, slowly reaches out to put his hand on Kyosuke's upper arm so that he can make to gently steer him away from the tree. That's . . . probably safe? Juzo braces himself for Kyosuke to recoil, anyway, but maybe . . . ]

S, sorry. Munakata—Kyosuke. We should get out of all this before you really get sick.

[But the rain is also beginning to clear at last, the downpour easing into a light sprinkle even as Juzo speaks. He's still tense; his voice is still thick with emotion and fear. After his laughing fit, his eyes are finally a little teary, the laughter making the perfect excuse for those tears to squeeze out after all. Just a few. But the storm is finally abating.]

[It's all still so surreal, standing there as Juzo stops laughing and approaches. He's really feeling the rain now, how his suit clings to him and exacerbates the stress on his body. His eyes are unfocused as he continues scanning the square, only intent on not looking at his friend as he tries to shuffle through jumbled thoughts and emotions before they fold together into despair.

He only looks up when Juzo touches his arm, more to acknowledge the hand on him than anything else. But his eyes climb higher, to Juzo's face, and he releases a weary sigh at the brightness of tears he finds there.]

I'm sorry.

[The thready words are out before he can plan anything else to act as a follow-up, lacking his usual eloquence and forethought. But it seems appropriate enough at the moment--a broad apology for his anger, for Juzo's hurt and his own obliviousness, for whatever barrier must have existed between them that made it impossible for Juzo to confess to him until now.

He surprises himself somewhat when he finally finds his voice, echoing the sentiment he had shared with Chisa.]

You deserved better than this.

[Juzo doesn't know exactly what Kyosuke means by that, but his response is still pretty immediate.]

. . . Don't say stupid-ass things like that, Munakata.

[Ah, he's not used to it yet. Should he be getting used to it? Is he being allowed that—? Why?

He corrects himself anyway.]

—Kyosuke.

[Saying the name makes his chest flutter, and despite everything happening right now (what is happening right now? Will it start making sense anytime soon?!), he feels the usual pang of self-loathing along with it. The reflex is too ingrained to just shove away that easily. I'm lying to Kyosuke. Every moment he spends with him is a lie . . .

But not anymore. That's right. If his heart speeds up, if his face feels warm, Kyosuke knows now. He knows and he's letting Juzo touch him anyway.

The air around them warms even more, the rain slowing to a few occasional fat drops. There's a streetlamp overhead lighting the park at night; its bluish glow begins to gradually shift into a rich sodium-burning orange-red, throwing a different light off the crystal petals still surrounding them.]

You're—you're an idiot, saying that kinda thing. . . . I'm exactly what I said I was. I'm—so much of a coward that I made you sit through that humiliating bullshit just now because I couldn't just come out and say what the hell I needed to.

[Juzo honestly isn't sure he's going to now until it comes out of his mouth. But it does.]

I. I still—I haven't stopped, I . . .

I love you.

[Kyosuke almost wants to comment on Juzo fumbling over what to call him, knowing that he's unlikely to be any better, but it doesn't seem appropriate. (Appropriate? What part of this entire situation was appropriate?) So he instead keeps his silence, allowing Juzo to continue steering them through the square and further away from the tree.

He slows as he catches sight of the streetlamp changing color; the change is so ... synchronized with Juzo starting to talk that he can't help but immediately make the connection.

Not that he knows what the connection is, until Juzo actually says the words, and the current situation loops back to the memory he just saw.

What can he say? It was difficult enough when Chisa confessed (there's a bitterness to the thought now, and he hates it), and now Juzo has as well. There's an added awkwardness with Juzo, with social conformity and all that entailed.

Not that social conformity necessarily counted when you were in a completely different world.

Despite the weariness he feels inside, Kyosuke lets bemusement curl his lips into a faint smile.]

Being an idiot doesn't make what I said any less true. You do deserve better.

[He so rarely initiates physical contact; it shows in the stilted way that he lifts his hand, hovering indecisively for a moment before he rests it where Juzo is already touching him on the arm.]

If I had been attentive, you would have been saved ... so much pain.

[Years of silence, oppressive and complete. When he shivers, it's as much because of that thought as it is because of the cold.]

I love you, too.

[His hand clenches tight around Juzo's fingers, cold and unsure. Even having shared that sentiment with Chisa, it's hard to believe he's saying the words to his other best friend now.]

...More than I can ever say. I love both of you with all my heart.

[By now he's managed to lead them back to the bench he was originally sitting on, a bit away from the tree, but close enough that the glow of the crystals scatters light across the ground at their feet. When Kyosuke takes Juzo's hand, the rest of the world stops. He's still talking, but for Juzo, for a moment, there's nothing but silence and stillness only broken by the pounding of his heart in his chest. After a beat, he squeezes Kyousuke's hand back, feeling like he might faint; his own hands are warm, as they always are, and he wonders what would happen if he took Kyosuke's hands between his to warm them—

But the world hasn't actually stopped. Kyosuke is still talking, and when Juzo tunes back in and catches up . . .

Something's not right.]

—Uh. Uh, no, you . . . K, Kyosuke, you—

[This is a terrible misunderstanding. Juzo's not sure how he could have misunderstood that memory, but clearly he has, somehow!]

I-I, you—don't get what I'm saying! I love you. I love you. No, what I mean is, I'm in love with you! I'm not saying that the same way you mean it. I'm not talking about friendship, I—I want you!

[Because that can't possibly be what Kyosuke means. He's talking about the love between two good platonic friends. Of course he is.]

[Kyosuke isn't puzzled by Juzo's stammering. On some level, he understands it. After all, what he's saying isn't something he's really put into words before. He's stressed how important they are to him as friends, as partners, as associates over the years, but such titles don't do them justice. It's not just friendship; it's about the two most important people of his life and his desire to give them-- well, the world, if necessary.

Maybe he hasn't completely figured out how to handle all of it, but that doesn't diminish his feelings.

He takes comfort that Juzo continues holding his hand despite his perplexed reaction.]

I know. I know what you meant. [The thunder above has finally abated, with his anger waning.] Saka-- Juzo. [He sighs and stops to avoid his own verbal fumbling.

The silence goes on longer as he continues trying to root out something that will convince Juzo that he didn't misinterpret what he meant. More than once he begins opening his mouth, only for his lips to twitch into a slight frown. He shouldn't be struggling so much. Maybe he's more tired than he thought.

But he eventually takes a page from Chisa's book, steeling himself for a bad reaction as he closes the gap between them and tilts his head up just enough to kiss Juzo briefly on the lips. It's simple, straightforward, and can't be misconstrued.]

[Juzo spends all that time Kyosuke is fumbling for words assuming that he's fumbling for a kind way to let Juzo down, and thinks about interrupting him to say, I know, it's fine, you don't have to worry about me being weird about it, I gave up on you years ago . . .

But once again, he gets something much more surprising.

This whole day has felt like an insane nightmare. Maybe it really has been one, and now his brain is taking pity on him and turning it into a nicer dream, one he'll wake up from before long and be disappointed like he always is when he has these, but at least a respite from the ongoing nightmare. When Kyosuke pulls back, Juzo just stares for a moment and waits to wake up. Any second now. Surely soon . . .

The world around him isn't quite so passive, though: already the ground at their feet is beginning to bloom with red roses. The vines curl up out of the ground, bud, and open, all within the time Juzo spends stunned into silence. (They might be familiar-looking roses.)

When he still hasn't woken up yet a few long, silent moments later, Juzo does literally the only thing he can think of to do: he pulls Kyosuke back over for another kiss.

Look, he's been holding this inside for a really long time.]

[Kyosuke knows he shouldn't be looking away at such an important moment, but the rustling and shifting of ... something at their feet is difficult to ignore. The red roses are oddly vibrant colors in the cobblestone square, and they hold his attention as they unfurl themselves into full, thorny blooms.

He's just about to comment on the roses and the odd coincidence that he received roses just the other day, if only to fill the silence, when Juzo acts, and his brows fly up in surprise as he steadies himself with a hand against his friend's chest.

Kissing Juzo was different from kissing Chisa; whereas there was a certain finesse and whimsy from Chisa, there was fervor from Juzo, and Kyosuke finds himself kissing back firmly simply so he won't drown. He's warm and breathless by the end of it, anchoring his fingers in Juzo's coat to avoid swaying into him.]

I-- Ah... I'm glad you understand.

[Does he?! He still feels like he can't possibly be understanding this right—but at this point, there's nothing left to think. The reality is finally beginning to penetrate his skull. Kyosuke had said he loved him, and then kissed him. His brain looks for any other possible way to interpret it and comes up blank. The only explanation is . . . this, right here.

He manages not to lean in and close the distance again, but it takes a lot of effort; for a moment he looks like he might. His expression overall has no fucking idea what to do other than look stunned, until finally, he begins to smile. Awkward, tentative, but how can he help it?!]

Aah . . . sorry if I . . . got carried away there.

[That is like .000001% of how carried away he could get right now. He could literally carry Kyosuke away, all the way back to his room. No! Don't get caught up in that shit yet!]

I, uh. Uhhh. —I . . . guess now isn't really the time to work everything out.

[God, that's right. Not five minutes ago, Kyosuke had been absolutely losing his shit, and with good reason. Juzo swallows down a lump in his throat. How selfish is he to even think about this right now when he should be supportive instead?!]

Can you walk yet? You've gotta get dried off. You could probably use a drink, too. I'll—I'll be here however you need me, Kyosuke. Just leave it to me.

[Part of Kyosuke wants to feel good in this moment, to be able to relish some happiness in that kiss. But there's a good degree of surprise still, and a quickly-encroaching feeling of exhaustion as what's left of his anger and bitterness drains away into numbness.

How long have they been outside in this self-inflicted weather? He's lost all track of time.]

Yes. Let's-- [He doesn't even know where to take that thought, and he expresses that with a shake of his head, further messing up his drenched hair.] Is there even anything open? Maybe we should just retire for the night.

I've got beer at home, at least, but—I should probably help you back to your own place instead. I want you to be comfortable.

[Not that Juzo's place isn't, but it's still unfamiliar territory, maybe not the most comforting thing in the moment. And then he'd be stuck there with Juzo. Right now, Juzo's not even sure if Kyosuke would rather be with him or alone. Should he stay, when they get back inside? Leave him? Maybe it'll be more clear when the moment comes.

He forces himself to pull back and to his feet and extends a hand to help Kyosuke up, if he wants it.]

Let's go.

[Instead of immediately reaching for Juzo's hand, Kyosuke lingers long enough touch the roses that had sprouted in the middle of everything. There's a minimal amount of rainwater on the plant, further cementing that it had just appeared.

He accepts Juzo's help shortly after, suppressing a heavy sigh and focusing instead on the flowers as they start walking.]

The roses from the other day. They were from you?

[The thought should probably bewilder him more, but it's so innocuous after everything else that he can't help being faintly amused.]

[Juzo's hand can't decide whether to drop Kyosuke's or not as they walk. He waffles between the two, his grip loosening as if to let their fingers slip apart and their arms swing loose again, then tightening to maintain the contact. They're still touching as the two of them head away from the tree and the tower and back towards their apartments, and once in a while, another rose begins to blossom when Juzo's foot comes down on the crack between cobbles in the road. The air has gone pleasantly warm and dry—a complete contrast to the heavy, freezing rain of before.

And if all that weren't embarrassing enough, then Kyosuke asks about the roses!

Juzo huffs out a short, nervous laugh, refusing eye contact, though he doesn't pull his hand away.]

Yeah. . . . You sent me something on Valentine's Day. If you knew how much I obsessed over those flowers and that letter, you'd really understand how pathetic I am. I couldn't stop myself from sending something back. Even though I knew—Yukizome told me all about how you two—

[He stops and shakes his head.

At the time, he'd felt like he was sharing a happy moment with his best friend. The culmination of her feelings at last. Of course she'd tell Juzo, and of course Juzo would be happy for her, but now . . . now he can't know. He doesn't want to think about it.]

—So I felt like shit about it, but I couldn't stop myself from sending you something for White Day.

It's not like I'd ever done anything like that before in my life. There's no Valentine's Day or White Day for homos. I wouldn't've dared.

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