[ the trembling is fading. or, ren thinks, he thinks it's fading. it's difficult to tell in the gloom and the dark, in the way the young man's breath still shudders with the errant mementos wind. maybe it's because ren wants the young man to be fine. the world's wishes were being granted nilly-willy above-ground, he thinks, with some measure of sardonicism and no little bitterness: why couldn't this be just another figment of ren's apparent imagination? akechi was the by-product of the first, but ren knows he can't save him. not as the way he is. it would be absolutely fantastic if this young man were another figment of ren's imagination, which means ren needs to sit back and look at himself long and hard after this to figure out just what is wrong with him and his incessant need to play hero when people least want it.
but he can't let him go. or rather, ren has resolved not to let him go. it's an entire distilled moment of eternity before the young man is still in ren's arms, when the trembling ceases and ren can feel the outline of his warmth and the curl of his fingers. there, he thinks. there. he's going to be okay. he's going to have to be okay.
maybe, he says. ren's smile curves along his shoulder, a felt, laughing thing.
the young man pulls away long enough to examine ren. ren takes a breath and lets him. blue hair, eyes like a midnight chord, thin in a way that would have sakura-san (the big one, not the little one) huff and gruff and shove a container of curry his way. oh, right, ren thinks - but before he can act on that thought, what comes next is so unexpected that it takes a moment to parse. i think you should leave me, the young man says, and what comes out of ren's mouth is pure, unadulterated instinct, mouth before mind: ]
Nah. [ just nah. a hundred percent nah. ren gently shifts the young man against him. his voice is a thin little thing, weak with something that ren can only identify as, well, fear - but ren has a solid shoulder that the young man can rest on, and he's only shifting him long enough to plunge his hand into his duffel.
he adds, just in case it wasn't clear enough: ] Not to be flippant or anything, but I think neither of us really know what's going on right now, so what you think we should do or I think we should do is all based on gut. As much as I like deciding things on gut, I think we should take a little longer to think things through.
Besides - [ out from within the chaotic confines of his duffel comes a container. ren gives it a shake, then opens it. the scent of fresh curry wafts. his brows quirk: ] you don't know the way I work. I have a policy. The policy is that I don't leave anyone behind.
[ not anymore. ]
Hang on if you're about to argue with me, though. I have a question first: you like curry?
no subject
but he can't let him go. or rather, ren has resolved not to let him go. it's an entire distilled moment of eternity before the young man is still in ren's arms, when the trembling ceases and ren can feel the outline of his warmth and the curl of his fingers. there, he thinks. there. he's going to be okay. he's going to have to be okay.
maybe, he says. ren's smile curves along his shoulder, a felt, laughing thing.
the young man pulls away long enough to examine ren. ren takes a breath and lets him. blue hair, eyes like a midnight chord, thin in a way that would have sakura-san (the big one, not the little one) huff and gruff and shove a container of curry his way. oh, right, ren thinks - but before he can act on that thought, what comes next is so unexpected that it takes a moment to parse. i think you should leave me, the young man says, and what comes out of ren's mouth is pure, unadulterated instinct, mouth before mind: ]
Nah. [ just nah. a hundred percent nah. ren gently shifts the young man against him. his voice is a thin little thing, weak with something that ren can only identify as, well, fear - but ren has a solid shoulder that the young man can rest on, and he's only shifting him long enough to plunge his hand into his duffel.
he adds, just in case it wasn't clear enough: ] Not to be flippant or anything, but I think neither of us really know what's going on right now, so what you think we should do or I think we should do is all based on gut. As much as I like deciding things on gut, I think we should take a little longer to think things through.
Besides - [ out from within the chaotic confines of his duffel comes a container. ren gives it a shake, then opens it. the scent of fresh curry wafts. his brows quirk: ] you don't know the way I work. I have a policy. The policy is that I don't leave anyone behind.
[ not anymore. ]
Hang on if you're about to argue with me, though. I have a question first: you like curry?