there's no resistance. he'll notice the blood eventually when he's not having a mental breakdown! but that is what he's having. a mental breakdown, as all of the pressure just bursts, all at once. denji is his friend, someone he's protected for so long - he went against his own moral code to try and protect the people he was supposed to, try and keep lux and dimitri alive because they refused to try, tried to catch whoever took manwol from them, tried, tried, tried
she'll catch him as much as she can. her arms remain around him, taking his shakes and cries and tears without hesitation. it breaks her heart to see him suffer this way, to watch him fall apart but - the least she can do is make sure that he's not alone for it. her fingertips run through his hair, trying to be as soothing as she can - but there is no attempt to shush or quiet him. sometimes the tears need to fall, and the breaking point needs to be slammed into with the force of a bull.
anger is another way that conviction manifests - but care and heartbreak are similarly different sides of the same coin.
[ and boy, he does. it's like - after eight weeks of this, his anger is still just as vibrant and furious as it was the first time, but he's starting to run low. every new blow that happens creates a crack, and right now, the wall of strength that ichiro has cultivated over his short life has finally shattered into pieces.
he's broken down more times here than he has in his entire life.
for a long moment, he just sobs on her. five minutes, ten - just, sobs. the cries of a child instead of a grown man, closer to a wild, grieving animal than a person, as every single piece of him just falls apart into iris's hands.
It's my fault. it's my fault. it's my fault. it's my fault. ]
repeated, gentle, but nonetheless firm. for every thought that he has blaming himself, she will retaliate immediately and certainly. her fingers continue to card through his hair as he cries on her, her other hand trying to rub soothing circles into his back. in truth - it has been so long since someone has been so vulnerable with iris in this way. but there is something in her heart that is immediately nurturing and generous, that reaches for ways to soothe first and foremost for everyone in her care.
she lets him cry, doesn't move away for as long as he needs, and presses a kiss to the side of his head even as she holds onto him. he can fall apart, he can crumble - just so long as he knows that she will trip over herself to catch every single piece in her own shaking hands.
all those weeks ago, she promised she would never let him hit the ground. even if he feels as though he is at his lowest, she will take the plunge with him.]
[ it is. he wants to fight it. he wants to scream it. he lied. he broke his moral code - something he never does - and it ended in destruction. lies always end that way, and he knows it, and he did it anyway.
(but he had to. he had to try. i had to try.)
it's a good fifteen, twenty minutes before he finally cries himself out. his shoulders are shaking, but the wet, miserable noises he's making finally dial down into silence, and he manages to take a shaky, hollow breath, only now pushing himself back to rub his face.
and finally, there's just silence. he's cried himself hollow, at this point, and he shakes his head, and glances down, and then - ] ...you're bleeding. [ hoarsely, quietly. he shifts, reaching like he might have a bandaid or something in his pocket, or something to help. god. let him help. even like this - even miserable, that's all he's ever wanted.
[ . . . . she'll let him shift, but she's also going to conjure up a small packet of tissues in her hand. the last time she did this was anime night. very silly. but she's still going to gently take one in her hand - as her hands aren't actively bleeding, just. very scraped and cut up which meant there was a lot of blood that pooled earlier - so that she can reach up and dab at his cheeks, the corners of his eyes...]
... needed something to do with my hands.
[her Switch is gone, and otherwise she was probably going to strangle someone. behind her there are so many bouquets, so many flower crowns, so many beautiful things that are stained with blood and her anger both. but for now she can try to take care of Ichiro.
even as she lets him try to take care of her. clumsy, silly, just as they always are.]
... it's not your fault. [she says again, softly. this time out loud, on purpose, for him to hear.] You're one person, with one vote. You do your best for people, and that's enough. You can't be expected to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders.
But if you keep trying, I'm not going to let you do it alone.
[if he wants to sign himself up to crumble, at least know that she will be there beside him. regardless of anything else.
but after she wipes at his face - she will hold her hand out to him. littered with cuts from roses, trembling just a little, but palm up and waiting for him.]
[ but would people have even voted for him, if it wasn't for me?
after all, he was complicit in everything. maybe he wasn't awake, thursday night - maybe he didn't actively have a role in killing someone, but he knew who was going to die. he knew what was going to happen. he knew - he didn't know denji was going to be out there, and that hurts him, too, makes him feel a little achy sense of betrayal that needles at every familiar old wound he's ever known. he's just shattered, at this point, at the lowest of the lowest he could be; at least he does let her dab at his face, though it just makes him feel stupid and childish, and he can't seme to look her in the eyes. get it together.
"needed something to do with my hands" is familiar. he thinks about that stupid switch, which is just another stupid thing to feel guilty about, and bites back the urge to say anything about it, kind of looking at her as she talks. he's one person, with one vote, yeah, and his thoughts just echo, a tiny bit desperately, it's so much more than that. it's so much more than he can tell her, than he's allowed to.
ichiro just looks at her hand, for a long moment, at the way it trembles.
i don't want to have to lie to you, too.
...
but after a long, long pause, tentatively, he places his hand in hers. ]
.... people voted in a way that they thought they would be able to live with - sacrificing one because they could not bring themselves to condemn another. Not realizing how much it may still hurt her, to be spared like this. That is not on you.
[certainly, logically, and stubbornly. because that is what she has to do - she has to try to pull him back from the dark place that he's going. because - she knows it all too well. to take everything upon yourself, because trying to find fault in others is scary. so she looks at him for a moment longer.
she holds his hand in hers, and she will let her thumb run over his knuckles gently.
... Don't lie to me. Don't say anything about that at all. You don't have to.
a beat, and then she repeats out loud - bringing her other hand up to his cheek again to try to get him to look at her.]
As long as your kindness guides you, I will never be disappointed in you. As long as you come home to me, I will carry all your burdens with you.
My kindness - [ he starts, a little desperately, almost baffled. what was kind about this? in what fucking world was he kind, that someone else had to be scapegoated? ichiro didn't do anything, today, but his hands aren't clean - he was implicit in the knowledge of what happened, and he lied, and it lead to the false accusation of one of their winters.
he can't say that to her, though. iris - clearly knows. she clearly knows. but he won't say anything, won't dare let a single other person be harmed because of his own short temper, his unstoppable mouth.
he closes his eyes, for a second, and takes a deep breath. repeats his mantra, three times. i'm strong, i'm strong, i'm strong. ]
... I told... when I found out about Kainé, I promised myself I'd try and find the people who were compelled. I know... [ this is the best he can say, right now. it is true. it's not quite the full truth, but it's a truth. ] ...I know if it was me, I'd want to be caught.
So I tried. [ and i succeeded.
did i? i don't think i did. ] Iris, I - I lied, today, and it got someone else hurt.
[ . . . . she closes her eyes and tries to think about it, then. if he wants her honesty in return - ]
That is one way to interpret what happened. In another way, you could say that the phone that Denji had could have been the most important piece of evidence - a sign that someone was trying to frame Winter. That would have been one way to discuss it, instead of assuming that it was Denji's. But no one wanted to talk about that. That's not your fault, even if you were deceitful in the initial suggestion.
However, even if you had said something truthful - where would you have been led to? No one wanted to vote for Maya, that much was obvious when she confessed and yet still was not condemned. What else was there? The blonde hair? So that they could instead point fingers at - who exactly, Lalli? I heard he caused a stir at the very end. There were a great number of suspects and yet -
This is what happened. It is cruel, unfair, and infuriating.
[ . . . ]
But you are not. If you want to call it a mistake, if you want me to scold you, I will. I will pinch one of your wounds and smack you. We can talk about how you never cave like this again.
But... you wanted Maya to be found, and you wanted her to not to have to live with Kainé's same burden - to feel terrified about everything she cannot say, or bound by fear of losing herself. That is kindness. You did what you could.
I am sorry that not everyone felt similarly, but I will not berate you for everyone else's decisions.
[ what iris says was - that was what he was hoping for, that maybe people would think denji was being framed. now, people probably think he's the suspicious one, which.. is fine. he's willing to take on the responsibility, because, if they have to do this again next week, he is going to be the suspicious one. (he refuses to take any other option, refuses to let luxanna and dimitri carry the burden.) it just would've been better if it wasn't denji.
lallis name brings to mind kon, his dead eyed misery from thursday that ichiro just barely remembers. there is no winning this game. he knows. he knows losing himself, or one of the other members of their fragile little group of people tasked with the impossible, wouldn't replace it, or make it better. cruel, unfair, infuriating says it, to say the least, and he looks down at her, almost soulful, eyes still wet, face still red and a little puffy.
it doesn't feel like kindness. and like always, he finds himself thinking - i could have done more. ]
...he's one of ours. [ ichiro says, quietly, about denji. ] I never - if it had been me, I never would've...
[ but he had to stay behind. he didn't get a choice. just the guilt, something that threatens to drown him.
You don't need to tell me things I already know - I think by now, I know the type of person you are.
[she's going to keep it at that. not when ichiro is so tired, and so sad. she'll hold onto his hand and give it a gentle squeeze, lightly interlacing their fingers as if to prove that she is well and truly going nowhere, and bringing up her other hand against to brush her thumb against the curve of his cheekbone.]
... let's go home. [a glance to all the bouquets and arrangements - ] I'll pick those up tomorrow.
[or leave them. who can say. she's going to start guiding him back in the direction of winter.]
Please help me bandage my hands? [if it'll give him something to do, to feel like he could help even one person - even if it's just her] ... it's almost over. Let's stay together, until then.
[she worries - about what will happen if she takes her eyes off of him.
[ ... he doesn't say anything to that. ichiro has to keep his thoughts quiet, forcefully, lest he say or think something he's not supposed to. the whole world just feels like its on his shoulders, right now, and he lets iris do whatever she wants, lets her take his hand, lets her touch his cheek. he's just - exhausted. numb. too tired and upset to feel anything else.
though.. home gets a spike of extremely unfamiliar anxiety, and he looks at the dorm, sort of distantly. ] I - [ I can't sleep in that room tonight - I can't.
ichiro's silent, for a second. ]
...yeah. [ it just reminds him of hurting ikebukuro. of working for mozuku, all those years ago.
stay alive, ichiro. don't be selfish, ichiro. i don't want to lose you, ichiro.
it's a lot of pressure. he has to shoulder it, like he always, always has.
he takes a deep breath and tries to push it off of his face, looking down at iris, and then looking at her hand. get it together. ] ...yeah. I can do that. [ help bandage her up, at least. the flowers can stay, for now. i hope these end up on location changes. ]
[ . . . it's been a long day. she doesn't know what else she can give him, and it bothers her. but at the very least - ]
You can hide away in my room, until you're ready to be anywhere else. Or we can take some of the camping materials and stay out - it's warm enough.
[the offer is there, if he doesn't want to be in his usual cuddle spots. she's assuming it's a painful reminder, or it hurts to be around others when he might not be able to watch his emotions.
I don't know what else to give. is her next thought and it leads to her asking - ]
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no subject
he just bursts into tears lmao
there's no resistance. he'll notice the blood eventually when he's not having a mental breakdown! but that is what he's having. a mental breakdown, as all of the pressure just bursts, all at once. denji is his friend, someone he's protected for so long - he went against his own moral code to try and protect the people he was supposed to, try and keep lux and dimitri alive because they refused to try, tried to catch whoever took manwol from them, tried, tried, tried
and failed.
i am strong? what a joke. ]
no subject
she'll catch him as much as she can. her arms remain around him, taking his shakes and cries and tears without hesitation. it breaks her heart to see him suffer this way, to watch him fall apart but - the least she can do is make sure that he's not alone for it. her fingertips run through his hair, trying to be as soothing as she can - but there is no attempt to shush or quiet him. sometimes the tears need to fall, and the breaking point needs to be slammed into with the force of a bull.
anger is another way that conviction manifests - but care and heartbreak are similarly different sides of the same coin.
her thoughts are - I've got you. Let it all out.]
no subject
he's broken down more times here than he has in his entire life.
for a long moment, he just sobs on her. five minutes, ten - just, sobs. the cries of a child instead of a grown man, closer to a wild, grieving animal than a person, as every single piece of him just falls apart into iris's hands.
It's my fault. it's my fault. it's my fault. it's my fault. ]
no subject
repeated, gentle, but nonetheless firm. for every thought that he has blaming himself, she will retaliate immediately and certainly. her fingers continue to card through his hair as he cries on her, her other hand trying to rub soothing circles into his back. in truth - it has been so long since someone has been so vulnerable with iris in this way. but there is something in her heart that is immediately nurturing and generous, that reaches for ways to soothe first and foremost for everyone in her care.
she lets him cry, doesn't move away for as long as he needs, and presses a kiss to the side of his head even as she holds onto him. he can fall apart, he can crumble - just so long as he knows that she will trip over herself to catch every single piece in her own shaking hands.
all those weeks ago, she promised she would never let him hit the ground. even if he feels as though he is at his lowest, she will take the plunge with him.]
no subject
(but he had to. he had to try. i had to try.)
it's a good fifteen, twenty minutes before he finally cries himself out. his shoulders are shaking, but the wet, miserable noises he's making finally dial down into silence, and he manages to take a shaky, hollow breath, only now pushing himself back to rub his face.
and finally, there's just silence. he's cried himself hollow, at this point, and he shakes his head, and glances down, and then - ] ...you're bleeding. [ hoarsely, quietly. he shifts, reaching like he might have a bandaid or something in his pocket, or something to help. god. let him help. even like this - even miserable, that's all he's ever wanted.
why does it always go so fucking wrong? ]
no subject
... needed something to do with my hands.
[her Switch is gone, and otherwise she was probably going to strangle someone. behind her there are so many bouquets, so many flower crowns, so many beautiful things that are stained with blood and her anger both. but for now she can try to take care of Ichiro.
even as she lets him try to take care of her. clumsy, silly, just as they always are.]
... it's not your fault. [she says again, softly. this time out loud, on purpose, for him to hear.] You're one person, with one vote. You do your best for people, and that's enough. You can't be expected to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders.
But if you keep trying, I'm not going to let you do it alone.
[if he wants to sign himself up to crumble, at least know that she will be there beside him. regardless of anything else.
but after she wipes at his face - she will hold her hand out to him. littered with cuts from roses, trembling just a little, but palm up and waiting for him.]
no subject
after all, he was complicit in everything. maybe he wasn't awake, thursday night - maybe he didn't actively have a role in killing someone, but he knew who was going to die. he knew what was going to happen. he knew - he didn't know denji was going to be out there, and that hurts him, too, makes him feel a little achy sense of betrayal that needles at every familiar old wound he's ever known. he's just shattered, at this point, at the lowest of the lowest he could be; at least he does let her dab at his face, though it just makes him feel stupid and childish, and he can't seme to look her in the eyes. get it together.
"needed something to do with my hands" is familiar. he thinks about that stupid switch, which is just another stupid thing to feel guilty about, and bites back the urge to say anything about it, kind of looking at her as she talks. he's one person, with one vote, yeah, and his thoughts just echo, a tiny bit desperately, it's so much more than that. it's so much more than he can tell her, than he's allowed to.
ichiro just looks at her hand, for a long moment, at the way it trembles.
i don't want to have to lie to you, too.
...
but after a long, long pause, tentatively, he places his hand in hers. ]
no subject
[certainly, logically, and stubbornly. because that is what she has to do - she has to try to pull him back from the dark place that he's going. because - she knows it all too well. to take everything upon yourself, because trying to find fault in others is scary. so she looks at him for a moment longer.
she holds his hand in hers, and she will let her thumb run over his knuckles gently.
... Don't lie to me. Don't say anything about that at all. You don't have to.
a beat, and then she repeats out loud - bringing her other hand up to his cheek again to try to get him to look at her.]
As long as your kindness guides you, I will never be disappointed in you. As long as you come home to me, I will carry all your burdens with you.
.... I won't look away, no matter what happens.
no subject
he can't say that to her, though. iris - clearly knows. she clearly knows. but he won't say anything, won't dare let a single other person be harmed because of his own short temper, his unstoppable mouth.
he closes his eyes, for a second, and takes a deep breath. repeats his mantra, three times. i'm strong, i'm strong, i'm strong. ]
... I told... when I found out about Kainé, I promised myself I'd try and find the people who were compelled. I know... [ this is the best he can say, right now. it is true. it's not quite the full truth, but it's a truth. ] ...I know if it was me, I'd want to be caught.
So I tried. [ and i succeeded.
did i? i don't think i did. ] Iris, I - I lied, today, and it got someone else hurt.
[
is that kindness? ]
no subject
That is one way to interpret what happened. In another way, you could say that the phone that Denji had could have been the most important piece of evidence - a sign that someone was trying to frame Winter. That would have been one way to discuss it, instead of assuming that it was Denji's. But no one wanted to talk about that. That's not your fault, even if you were deceitful in the initial suggestion.
However, even if you had said something truthful - where would you have been led to? No one wanted to vote for Maya, that much was obvious when she confessed and yet still was not condemned. What else was there? The blonde hair? So that they could instead point fingers at - who exactly, Lalli? I heard he caused a stir at the very end. There were a great number of suspects and yet -
This is what happened. It is cruel, unfair, and infuriating.
[ . . . ]
But you are not. If you want to call it a mistake, if you want me to scold you, I will. I will pinch one of your wounds and smack you. We can talk about how you never cave like this again.
But... you wanted Maya to be found, and you wanted her to not to have to live with Kainé's same burden - to feel terrified about everything she cannot say, or bound by fear of losing herself. That is kindness. You did what you could.
I am sorry that not everyone felt similarly, but I will not berate you for everyone else's decisions.
no subject
lallis name brings to mind kon, his dead eyed misery from thursday that ichiro just barely remembers. there is no winning this game. he knows. he knows losing himself, or one of the other members of their fragile little group of people tasked with the impossible, wouldn't replace it, or make it better. cruel, unfair, infuriating says it, to say the least, and he looks down at her, almost soulful, eyes still wet, face still red and a little puffy.
it doesn't feel like kindness. and like always, he finds himself thinking - i could have done more. ]
...he's one of ours. [ ichiro says, quietly, about denji. ] I never - if it had been me, I never would've...
[ but he had to stay behind. he didn't get a choice. just the guilt, something that threatens to drown him.
he takes a deep breath. inhale, exhale. ]
...I'm tired, Iris. [ quietly. ] I'm so tired.
no subject
You don't need to tell me things I already know - I think by now, I know the type of person you are.
[she's going to keep it at that. not when ichiro is so tired, and so sad. she'll hold onto his hand and give it a gentle squeeze, lightly interlacing their fingers as if to prove that she is well and truly going nowhere, and bringing up her other hand against to brush her thumb against the curve of his cheekbone.]
... let's go home. [a glance to all the bouquets and arrangements - ] I'll pick those up tomorrow.
[or leave them. who can say. she's going to start guiding him back in the direction of winter.]
Please help me bandage my hands? [if it'll give him something to do, to feel like he could help even one person - even if it's just her] ... it's almost over. Let's stay together, until then.
[she worries - about what will happen if she takes her eyes off of him.
I don't want to lose you, too.]
no subject
though.. home gets a spike of extremely unfamiliar anxiety, and he looks at the dorm, sort of distantly. ] I - [ I can't sleep in that room tonight - I can't.
ichiro's silent, for a second. ]
...yeah. [ it just reminds him of hurting ikebukuro. of working for mozuku, all those years ago.
stay alive, ichiro. don't be selfish, ichiro. i don't want to lose you, ichiro.
it's a lot of pressure. he has to shoulder it, like he always, always has.
he takes a deep breath and tries to push it off of his face, looking down at iris, and then looking at her hand. get it together. ] ...yeah. I can do that. [ help bandage her up, at least. the flowers can stay, for now. i hope these end up on location changes. ]
no subject
You can hide away in my room, until you're ready to be anywhere else. Or we can take some of the camping materials and stay out - it's warm enough.
[the offer is there, if he doesn't want to be in his usual cuddle spots. she's assuming it's a painful reminder, or it hurts to be around others when he might not be able to watch his emotions.
I don't know what else to give. is her next thought and it leads to her asking - ]
.... is there anything else you might want?