[ You are about to go to war. Not with swords and shields, but with words and reputation. You know what happens if you’re to lose the upcoming inquisition. Your father will lose his position as Prime Minister, your fief will fall into turmoil as outside trade collapses, your corporation and every worker under your oversight will face financial crisis and risk so many innocent, good people losing their livelihood. Everyone is relying on you.
Everything that you’ve spent years building - your land, your work, your peaceful town that was never meant to lose to the capital - could be ripped from your hands.
And for what?
A false accusation. A suggestion that the orphanage that you created was wrong because it stole property from none other than God. You know in your heart that even for all your attempts at peace, there are people who simply cannot stand to leave you be.
Isn’t it shameful to have an existence that only causes turmoil? That only causes trouble for everyone around you, no matter how hard you try to do everything right?
Even after Dean - a confidant, whipsmart and brilliant - gives you a piece to save everything, you find yourself being pushed to the very edge of your composure.
he's starting to feel more confident, now, ready to duck past this slightly embarrassing if incredibly helpful and also motivating vent session and go back to their skating, when he's suddenly slapped with a memory.
pressure, now that's familiar. not to the extent that it was for viola - for iris - but when she cracks, it's almost made physical. when she falls apart, he feels it, he feels her anger and her stress and the visceral reaction to the unfairness and cruelties of a world he can't even begin to understand. she really held the whole world on her shoulders, didn't she?
and here, in this dorm, when she shies away from them all when things go wrong - things make so much sense.
more than anything, that feeling of being left behind - that resonates. that sticks. but the winter dorm isn't going to do that, are they? he's not going to do that. he's not going anywhere.
it's a good thing, really, that she's still holding his hand in both of hers, because his other one comes up, and ichiro grabs onto hers tight, surrounding her hand instead, and says, full of feeling - ] Iris.
[ because, that's who she was, in that memory. there are a thousand things in there to unpack, but the fierce want to help takes first priority. the first need to be something strong to lean on, when the whole world's fallen apart. isn't that what he's always been good at? being someone steady.
he doesn't know what she'll see - what remembering this might do to her, how it might impact the state she's in, right now, with this dubious mind control over everything. they'll start there. the rest - the rest has to come in time. his heart's thudding in his chest, though, and he squeezes tight. tell me you're here. ]
her head hurts. it's dizzying, to feel like you've had three whole lifetimes jammed into your head, even if that memory was short it still contained two. her gaze is unfocused for a moment as she panics, confused, and then even more unsure when ichiro calls her by a name that isn't hers.
iris?
why does that name keep coming up?]
Who....
[who am I?
though she's still nervous - a bit scared. he takes her hand so certainly and her instinct is to pull away, to get back, before anyone can give her any kindness she might fall into without realizing. she can't risk that.]
I'm sorry if I'm not the person you want me to be.
ichiro's response is instant; he squeezes her hand, his words intense, heavy with concern, not anger. ]
I don't want you to be anyone. I just want to make sure you're okay, Vi. Really okay.
[ no expectation, no wants, nothing like that. ichiro's friendship and affection does not come with a price tag, nor does it get easily returned. he's been burned twice by this in ways that have hurt him to his core, but even now, he hasn't changed.
... the memory belonged to iris, and iris is - well. they're gonna figure out whatever the hell is wrong with this place, and they're gonna get iris out of there. he'll put it aside, for now. the benefit of being mind controlled is you dont have to talk about your emotional trauma, probably? ]
her hand is tense in his hold, as if ready to snap. she searches his expression for any doubt any duplicity, anything that might suggest that this could be just to placate her. it's hard to trust. it's hard to believe in kindness.
but she knows that ichiro is often sincere and so bit by excruciatingly slow bit, she eases.]
... I'm fine.
[she's clearly not, but she'll say it.
even if that sort of compartmentalizing might be what gets her into that type of explosive emotional mess in the first place]
[ there's a beat. he matches her gaze when she looks at him, brows knit together, eyes a little dark and worried, and genuine. ]
... are you fine? [ because ichiro's not the smartest guy in the world. he's not, he never has been, but he works hard, and his heart is strong enough that his emotional intelligence makes up for it. ] Or... do you want me to pretend you're fine for a little bit?
[ because that's super unhealthy but he also can give her the option. he can feel that tenseness, like she's going to bolt like a terrified bird any second. ]
[ he watches, for a moment, fussy, watches his reaction, and feels that squeeze of determination thread itself into the worry. the fear. ]
... Right now, I'm just trying to talk to you. [ he squeezes her hand, one more time. it's always frustrating, to not know what to do - just like he'd talked about before - bt he has to be patient. and, maybe there are little ways he can help. viola is iris and iris is viola, he guesses, but they aren't, and it's a lot for him to understand, too. he's just not smart enough for this. ]
...maybe I can't do a lot, but I can distract you for a little bit. You've gotta go school me at ice skating. [ another squeeze, a puppylike earnestness at the edge of his voice as he picks up a little of his warmth again, tries to keep that angry, bubbling concern at a low simmer. ] Or we can go throw snowballs at each other. That always helps, or I can just -- anything, Vi.
when she opens her eyes again and watches him, it's wary. distrustful. even if those memories aren't hers, the feelings in them are... familiar. aren't those ugly feelings reason enough to cast her aside?
but he squeezes her hand and she tries to relax, letting her fingers curl ever so slightly to return his hold. but she's clearly still... well, nervous.]
[ this time, when ichiro grins, it's back to normal. the smile is warm and bright, determined. always 100%.
what a great time for a memory share of his own! ]
[ it's a quick memory, and at first, it's one that's confusing. you are running up the stairs of a building, following behind a guy in a leather jacket with something written on the back of it. you're feeling angry, but determined, but underneath that? you're terrified. there's a single, bright point of fear as you rush to the top floor of a building, because your brothers could be in danger and you have to save them.
as you make it up to the top floor, you hear low, muttered voices - and you hear a panicked gasp, and you know that voice, that's jiro. terror grips your heart like ice and you throw yourself onto the landing and scramble for the door -
samatoki bursts out of the staircase first, and you're a second behind him, and you can see over his shoulder -- a shoe? that is definitely a woman's heeled shoe that goes sailing across from where it hit its original target. it's followed immediately by a girl's voice.
"Hey! You wanted to cut off my fingers! So do it!"
the scene comes into view from behind samatoki - a man that you know as the head of the orphanage you live in is holding a knife in one hand, and the wrist of a young woman in the other. she's holding perfectly still despite the knife a centimeter from her finger, refusing to scream.
...unlike her brother, who launches forward with a scream of YOU FUCKER! and attempts to tackle the man, who just roundhouse kicks him in the stomach and chides him for his loud attack. samatoki snarls at him, but you're not even paying attention, because you look from the brave girl back and you see your entire world, hands tied together, at the wall. terrified, unharmed - but alive.
the emotion threatens to burst out of you, and you're shouting before you can help yourself as you skid onto the scene. ] Jiro, Saburo! I'm coming to get you out of there as fast as I can! Wait for me!
[ the two of them look stunned. jiro stammers a soft, "Wh... why?"
and you love your brothers, so much, but that is a stupid as hell question. ] Does a guy need a reason to rescue his brothers? I'm doing it because you're important to me!
[ the boys stare at you for a moment longer, as you turn all of your fire onto the man who was supposed to raise you, a dick named genchou housen. a person you have never liked, you have never trusted. (you have learned never to trust adults. that burns in your core. you never trust them.)
behind him steps out your boss. mozuku, the head of the dirty jobs business you can't stand. the guy you beat the shit out of with samatoki as you finally broke free of his stairway2heaven just a few days before, and shit starts to get real.
so you battle. you fight, and mozuku and housen beat the shit out of you both. the attacks come relentlessly - hypnosis mics break up your whole soul, rattle you from the inside out. you know you could take these clowns with your eyes closed, let alone with samatoki next to you, but you take every single hit, because your resolve is steady and you refuse to be knocked down.
you rap like shit, samatoki says from next to you. you laugh, a scoff, and wipe your mouth, spit blood on the floor, and jerk your head up in defiance. ] I'm not done yet.
[ housen grins, and they another verse comes. brutal, more painful than the last. you can feel it, frying your braincells, making you bleed. another hit might do you in.
you glance to the left. this top floor of this building is a restaurant - there are tables and chairs thrown everywhere, and a roll of silverware is undone on the floor, not far away. you can see a fork, a knife. two pairs of chopsticks.
and you get an idea.
you glance at samatoki. you've barely known each other for 24 hours, but you're on the same wavelength. mozuku laughs. seems like this one's going to be your last!
think again, bastard, you think, and you grab the chopsticks, straighten up, and with zero hesitation, jam them into your ears, popping both of your eardrums in one fluid, painful motion. the world goes deaf, and the pain doesn't matter, even if it makes you want to scream.
because you'll take another twenty rounds of this hell if it means jiro and saburo get to walk out of here alive. you will do anything for the people that matter to you.
viola's eyes widen suddenly at the memory and - it makes sense, she supposes. with what she knows of ichiro.
and yet even so.
she pulls her hand out of his grip instantly, and brings her hands up to rest on either side of his head, covering his ears from the cold with her own hands as if to protect them]
[ this is the cutest possible reaction to this im on the floor
he -- freezes? the pain is a burst of white but it's not unfamiliar, and he's left startled, staring at her with big, wide eyes as he comes back to reality. ]
...Huh? [ oh. oh, right. ] Oh. Oh - hey, hey, Vi-chan, it's okay, it was just a memory...
[ . . . oh, she's covering his ears, he might not be able to hear. she lets her hands drop to his shoulders instead, grip not quite tight but definitely like she's tempted to shake him]
[ that's fine. it was a little muffled! boy she's gonna have a time on thursday
the tight grip is fine, if a little surprising, too?? he can hear fine, it was a really long time ago and jakurai healed him up fine, and... her concern is kind of knocking him out a little bit. he reaches up to kind of half cover her hands with his? ]
...Uh, sorry. I... if I could've stopped it, I would've. The memory.
[ not the stabbing out his own ear drums... well, maybe, because hindsight is 20/20 and now he knows jakurai was right there. ] It's all good, it's okay. I'm okay.
[her brow furrows at that - ] It's not the memory that I wanted stopped. I'm not asking you to hide things from me, I just—
[under his touch, he'll feel how tense she is. it's immediate, every time she sees one of her own in danger. the way that she wants to snatch out and take whatever is hurting them away herself.
but so much of the time it feels like all she can do is watch.]
... I know you feel strongly and that... that seemed like the solution but -
[ ichiro ducks his head, a little bit, very much cowed by this genuine care, and feeling a little guilty about it because she. does have a point. ]
...yeah. [ yeah. he agrees, after a second, muttering - ] It was pretty dumb, huh. People do crazy shit when the adrenaline's high, can't even think straight.
Like two seconds later a couple of guys who we ended up teaming up with showed up, and one of em was a doctor. [ a little snort. ] If we'd waited, we probably wouldn't have even had to do that. I just...
[ his brothers were in danger, and by god, he would do everything in his power to make sure they were okay. he doesn't need to say that, though, and he looses his gentle hand on hers to reach up and rub the back of his neck, under his headphones. ] ...if it helps, I haven't done anything like that in forever.
[ . . . . she sighs a little bit, feeling somewhere between tired and... another complicated emotion. they probably wouldn't have had to do it, but it's not like she means to insult the conviction behind the action. she lets her fingers curl a little bit into the fabric of ichiro's shirt, clinging as if to keep him close and safe -
before she catches herself and lets go very suddenly, pulling her hands back to herself as she flusters]
Oh - pardon my forwardness.
[ . . . but the rest of what she feels is sincere. maybe even that action was a little too sincere for her to manage.]
.... I'm glad you haven't. I understand what motivated you and I don't mean to discount how sometimes your body can move before your brain catches up - [she understands that too, but.]
.... just please stay safe. I don't know what I'd do if something happened to you.
[ oh. he sort of stops, for a second, hands hovering, a little surprised at the way viola's clinging to him - it absolutely makes his heart skip a beat, which is really unfortunate - but he's mostly just surprised. then again, aside from shrinking out of a hug just once, and even then, it was touch week, she doesn't seem to mind being as close to ichiro...? so.
he blinks and looks down at her. ] ...Nothing to apologize for. [ it wasn't forward. he's pink in the cheeks again, though, and nods... when viola says things like that it feels a little bit like he's in a dating sim? almost too sweet to be true. god. he really did not stand a chance.
anyway i'm writing this tag after having him just get severely electrocuted so i think it's EXTRA funny, but he nods, expression softening into a smile. ] I'll be careful as I can be. Promise.
[ (72 hours later: i may have broken that promise a little bit) ]
...alright. I think that's enough serious, yeah? C'mon, we've got some skating to do.
[there's still something worried in her gaze - because now winter has had a taste of loss. two of their own have gone now, and even if it's due to the fact that they were murderers, that apparently makes no large difference to viola. she'll just sigh a little bit and try to offer a smile]
Let's go, then.
[and she'll let her hand brush against his, fingertips just lightly dancing against the backs of his own, before she goes to where the skates are!]
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no subject
Everything that you’ve spent years building - your land, your work, your peaceful town that was never meant to lose to the capital - could be ripped from your hands.
And for what?
A false accusation. A suggestion that the orphanage that you created was wrong because it stole property from none other than God. You know in your heart that even for all your attempts at peace, there are people who simply cannot stand to leave you be.
Isn’t it shameful to have an existence that only causes turmoil? That only causes trouble for everyone around you, no matter how hard you try to do everything right?
Even after Dean - a confidant, whipsmart and brilliant - gives you a piece to save everything, you find yourself being pushed to the very edge of your composure.
”You think that if I cry and ask for help some prince on a white horse will show up?!”
It is a far, distant cry from your usual grace. You know the face you’re making must be pitiful and ugly.
Lady Iris, the Duke’s Daughter. Lady Iris, the CEO of the Azuta Corporation. Lady Iris, the invited guest of the Dowager Empress.
Lady Iris, crumbling under pressure. Lady Iris, cowardly, spiteful, useless. Lady Iris - will never be good enough.
Doesn’t it feel inevitable then, that everyone will leave you behind again? ]
no subject
he's starting to feel more confident, now, ready to duck past this slightly embarrassing if incredibly helpful and also motivating vent session and go back to their skating, when he's suddenly slapped with a memory.
pressure, now that's familiar. not to the extent that it was for viola - for iris - but when she cracks, it's almost made physical. when she falls apart, he feels it, he feels her anger and her stress and the visceral reaction to the unfairness and cruelties of a world he can't even begin to understand. she really held the whole world on her shoulders, didn't she?
and here, in this dorm, when she shies away from them all when things go wrong - things make so much sense.
more than anything, that feeling of being left behind - that resonates. that sticks. but the winter dorm isn't going to do that, are they? he's not going to do that. he's not going anywhere.
it's a good thing, really, that she's still holding his hand in both of hers, because his other one comes up, and ichiro grabs onto hers tight, surrounding her hand instead, and says, full of feeling - ] Iris.
[ because, that's who she was, in that memory. there are a thousand things in there to unpack, but the fierce want to help takes first priority. the first need to be something strong to lean on, when the whole world's fallen apart. isn't that what he's always been good at? being someone steady.
he doesn't know what she'll see - what remembering this might do to her, how it might impact the state she's in, right now, with this dubious mind control over everything. they'll start there. the rest - the rest has to come in time. his heart's thudding in his chest, though, and he squeezes tight. tell me you're here. ]
no subject
her head hurts. it's dizzying, to feel like you've had three whole lifetimes jammed into your head, even if that memory was short it still contained two. her gaze is unfocused for a moment as she panics, confused, and then even more unsure when ichiro calls her by a name that isn't hers.
iris?
why does that name keep coming up?]
Who....
[who am I?
though she's still nervous - a bit scared. he takes her hand so certainly and her instinct is to pull away, to get back, before anyone can give her any kindness she might fall into without realizing. she can't risk that.]
I'm sorry if I'm not the person you want me to be.
[but she's not iris.]
no subject
ichiro's response is instant; he squeezes her hand, his words intense, heavy with concern, not anger. ]
I don't want you to be anyone. I just want to make sure you're okay, Vi. Really okay.
[ no expectation, no wants, nothing like that. ichiro's friendship and affection does not come with a price tag, nor does it get easily returned. he's been burned twice by this in ways that have hurt him to his core, but even now, he hasn't changed.
... the memory belonged to iris, and iris is - well. they're gonna figure out whatever the hell is wrong with this place, and they're gonna get iris out of there. he'll put it aside, for now. the benefit of being mind controlled is you dont have to talk about your emotional trauma, probably? ]
no subject
her hand is tense in his hold, as if ready to snap. she searches his expression for any doubt any duplicity, anything that might suggest that this could be just to placate her. it's hard to trust. it's hard to believe in kindness.
but she knows that ichiro is often sincere and so bit by excruciatingly slow bit, she eases.]
... I'm fine.
[she's clearly not, but she'll say it.
even if that sort of compartmentalizing might be what gets her into that type of explosive emotional mess in the first place]
no subject
... are you fine? [ because ichiro's not the smartest guy in the world. he's not, he never has been, but he works hard, and his heart is strong enough that his emotional intelligence makes up for it. ] Or... do you want me to pretend you're fine for a little bit?
[ because that's super unhealthy but he also can give her the option. he can feel that tenseness, like she's going to bolt like a terrified bird any second. ]
no subject
she shuts her eyes entirely at that, if it means that she won't have to look at him.]
... I will be fine.
[ . . . . ]
Who you're trying to talk to is - Iris? So someone else that isn't me - but... [that memory... it's so confusing to her and it makes her head ache]
... I don't know if anyone can help with what I'm feeling.
[so what use would it be?]
no subject
... Right now, I'm just trying to talk to you. [ he squeezes her hand, one more time. it's always frustrating, to not know what to do - just like he'd talked about before - bt he has to be patient. and, maybe there are little ways he can help. viola is iris and iris is viola, he guesses, but they aren't, and it's a lot for him to understand, too. he's just not smart enough for this. ]
...maybe I can't do a lot, but I can distract you for a little bit. You've gotta go school me at ice skating. [ another squeeze, a puppylike earnestness at the edge of his voice as he picks up a little of his warmth again, tries to keep that angry, bubbling concern at a low simmer. ] Or we can go throw snowballs at each other. That always helps, or I can just -- anything, Vi.
no subject
when she opens her eyes again and watches him, it's wary. distrustful. even if those memories aren't hers, the feelings in them are... familiar. aren't those ugly feelings reason enough to cast her aside?
but he squeezes her hand and she tries to relax, letting her fingers curl ever so slightly to return his hold. but she's clearly still... well, nervous.]
... skating is fine.
If - you're certain.
cw for ear trauma just in case
[ this time, when ichiro grins, it's back to normal. the smile is warm and bright, determined. always 100%.
what a great time for a memory share of his own! ]
no subject
viola's eyes widen suddenly at the memory and - it makes sense, she supposes. with what she knows of ichiro.
and yet even so.
she pulls her hand out of his grip instantly, and brings her hands up to rest on either side of his head, covering his ears from the cold with her own hands as if to protect them]
—Ichiro!
no subject
he -- freezes? the pain is a burst of white but it's not unfamiliar, and he's left startled, staring at her with big, wide eyes as he comes back to reality. ]
...Huh? [ oh. oh, right. ] Oh. Oh - hey, hey, Vi-chan, it's okay, it was just a memory...
no subject
[ . . . oh, she's covering his ears, he might not be able to hear. she lets her hands drop to his shoulders instead, grip not quite tight but definitely like she's tempted to shake him]
... don't scare me like that.
no subject
the tight grip is fine, if a little surprising, too?? he can hear fine, it was a really long time ago and jakurai healed him up fine, and... her concern is kind of knocking him out a little bit. he reaches up to kind of half cover her hands with his? ]
...Uh, sorry. I... if I could've stopped it, I would've. The memory.
[ not the stabbing out his own ear drums... well, maybe, because hindsight is 20/20 and now he knows jakurai was right there. ] It's all good, it's okay. I'm okay.
no subject
[under his touch, he'll feel how tense she is. it's immediate, every time she sees one of her own in danger. the way that she wants to snatch out and take whatever is hurting them away herself.
but so much of the time it feels like all she can do is watch.]
... I know you feel strongly and that... that seemed like the solution but -
Please regard yourself with more care.
no subject
...yeah. [ yeah. he agrees, after a second, muttering - ] It was pretty dumb, huh. People do crazy shit when the adrenaline's high, can't even think straight.
Like two seconds later a couple of guys who we ended up teaming up with showed up, and one of em was a doctor. [ a little snort. ] If we'd waited, we probably wouldn't have even had to do that. I just...
[ his brothers were in danger, and by god, he would do everything in his power to make sure they were okay. he doesn't need to say that, though, and he looses his gentle hand on hers to reach up and rub the back of his neck, under his headphones. ] ...if it helps, I haven't done anything like that in forever.
no subject
before she catches herself and lets go very suddenly, pulling her hands back to herself as she flusters]
Oh - pardon my forwardness.
[ . . . but the rest of what she feels is sincere. maybe even that action was a little too sincere for her to manage.]
.... I'm glad you haven't. I understand what motivated you and I don't mean to discount how sometimes your body can move before your brain catches up - [she understands that too, but.]
.... just please stay safe. I don't know what I'd do if something happened to you.
[
laughs in cyoa]
no subject
he blinks and looks down at her. ] ...Nothing to apologize for. [ it wasn't forward. he's pink in the cheeks again, though, and nods... when viola says things like that it feels a little bit like he's in a dating sim? almost too sweet to be true. god. he really did not stand a chance.
anyway i'm writing this tag after having him just get severely electrocuted so i think it's EXTRA funny, but he nods, expression softening into a smile. ] I'll be careful as I can be. Promise.
[ (72 hours later: i may have broken that promise a little bit) ]
...alright. I think that's enough serious, yeah? C'mon, we've got some skating to do.
no subject
[there's still something worried in her gaze - because now winter has had a taste of loss. two of their own have gone now, and even if it's due to the fact that they were murderers, that apparently makes no large difference to viola. she'll just sigh a little bit and try to offer a smile]
Let's go, then.
[and she'll let her hand brush against his, fingertips just lightly dancing against the backs of his own, before she goes to where the skates are!]