['The mission is a success, Buzen,' Kuwana answers for Itsuki, quick and voice gruff with emotion. 'Just - hang on, don't be too quick. The earth isn't ready for you yet.'
but it's hard to say how many of the words make it to buzen's ears - when it's confirmed the mission is a success, there is less of an effort for him to open his eyes. he trusts that. he doesn't need to see for himself, to check if time has stopped flowing or if they're all in danger. that's good, then, that they succeeded.
even if everything is feeling a little further away, a little darker. this is familiar, he thinks. it's been months now since this feeling - but there is an awareness in the back of his mind.
he's close to dying.
last time this happened, marie was left crying into his shoulder and clutching onto his bloodied hand. he can hear the same emotion in kuwana's voice, in itsuki's, and his hand twitches - weakly - to try to reach for his. the corner of his mouth twitches like he's trying for a smile, even though it takes so much effort to even stay awake.]
Is it the iron tang scent of blood? The way Buzen's eyes flutter open and closed? The twitch at the corner of his mouth that's a far cry from his usual smile? His hand moving ever so slightly -- seeking to comfort, even now?
Maybe it's just one, maybe it's all of them -- or maybe it's the words Itsuki has to focus just to hear. See you soon. He's heard this promise before, on the worst day of his life. So to hear them now while also having to see -- it's all a nightmare, and it pushes him over the edge. He thought he could wear some semblance of calm, keep his emotions pressed in his heart, but he can't. Six weeks in the prism and he still doesn't understand death, how can he be expected to understand it now?
His own hand is shaking, but he grabs for Buzen's hand anyway, the strength of his grip bruising -- the words are the worst. there's a fissure in his heart and the edges are breaking,]
-- No. [defiant, desperate. voice shaking even more than his hands, rough with terror] See me now. Look at me, Buzen. Please. Please.
[the mission's over for now, and it doesn't need buzen any more -- but itsuki still does, itsuki always will. and selfishly, he thinks his need is greater. if he can anchor buzen to him with just the force of his gaze, then he can do that. he could do anything. if only he could. heat burns in the corner of his eyes, and a faraway part of him remembers the last time he'd cried too -- in that stilted, cramped box swinging idly from the ferris wheel -- in that quiet, empty cell of a room -- all for one person, and one person only.]
[slowly, the portal that will bring them back to the Citadel opens. though even that barely registers to kuwana, just as distressed as itsuki - even though he's not quite nearly so demanding about his own wants. does the earth have answers for him? will it tell him that buzen will be okay? his own fingers twitch, almost fearful of the answer he'll receive.
distantly, buzen can hear his name being said by the person he loves - feeling the grip on his hand. he doesn't know if he can muster up the strength to open his eyes again, already feeling his own breath difficult to catch. he wants to answer. what could he say?
you'll be okay.
don't be scared.
i love you.
would any of that help, he wonders? there is a barely there effort to get his lips to part, but he can't find his voice to say anything more. his fingers curl, ever so slightly against itsuki's hand, trying to hold it back - but his ever reliable strength is slipping from him.
everything is slipping from him, too quickly. for once, far too quickly.
kuwana moves - 'suki, let's take him—' - shaky, fearful, but determined. they have to rush to the repairs room. they have to race buzen before he crosses this finish line.]
[the fear in kuwana's voice cuts through itsuki like a knife, both a reminder of everything they can lose and what little chance they still have. he swallows hard, throat bobbing in an instinctive effort to push back on his emotions -- it's so easy to let go of buzen's hand when he's the only one with the strength to hold on, and he hates that.
if that's what it takes to get them there faster, then it only makes sense to let go. so he does, inevitably lagging behind as kuwa and the others rush buzen to repairs.
eventually, he makes it into the room after them, hands fisted at his side in order to catch that phantom feeling of buzen's hand in his, moving close but not too close in an effort to let the master of the citadel do the one thing for buzen itsuki cannot.
Live. The word pounds in his skull like a mantra, hard enough that Itsuki can barely keep it reined between his teeth. Live. Live. Live. For the sake of history, for the timeline buzen swore to protect, for his comrades, for the aruji -- except Itsuki's not thinking of any of that, as he wrenches his gaze from buzen's bloodied body to the sword in aruji's hand and back again. Selfishly, desperately --
[the repairs are more intense this time. konnosuke is summoned, hurrying in to bring the supplies needed to repair buzen's sword - already marred with fissures against its steel when unsheathed. the sight of it makes kuwana tense, though he otherwise remains at itsuki's side while the repairs are underway. it is harder to see as the saniwa gets to work, and they are guided to wait outside instead this time - to allow for the focus of the process to be maintained.
all the other gous are already crowded outside, expressions all grim and worried even as they automatically check on both kuwana and itsuki, wondering if they're safe too.
if they're anywhere near whole.
it takes some time longer for repairs to finish - hours, at that point - before some of them are called to help transport buzen to a different room. he is unconscious, still not responsive, but he is no longer bloodied and near broken at least.]
[The mantra in Itsuki's head is relentless, and at some point morphs from words to just -- pure feeling. a desperate desire tightly entwined with his despair. his composure is at odds with the tumult inside him, pale and withdrawn, unseeing of everything besides the door to the repairs room. someone holds his hand, and itsuki would feel ashamed at how he can't tell who it is, if he let himself.
instead, he follows as the gous sweep in and out of the room, carrying buzen between them, keeps moving instinctively until he's in that very same room where they've laid him out.
the gous and swords talk quietly amongst themselves because as buzen's companions they all want to keep watch, to wait for that moment when buzen wakes up. Itsuki approaches the bed and looks down. buzen is no longer bloodied and near broken. and yet that's all itsuki can see. his bloodstained fingers tremble, hovering over buzen's face -- and then his hand, hovering over instead of closing the gap.
someone asks itsuki what he needs, and he just shakes his head. he needs to see buzen's eyes open, and to feel his hand squeeze his back when he holds it. he needs it so desperately.
he can't wait any longer.
he'd take the chair but he doesn't want to risk someone moving him, or waking him up. instead he sits on the floor next to buzen's bed, rests his head on the edge of the mattress and closes his eyes. he'd have thought it'd take some time to fall asleep -- but his desire, keen-edged and desperate, puts him to sleep almost immediately. reaching for buzen's dreams is pure instinct by now, he knows them as well as his own. hadn't he promised buzen once that he'd always try to find him?
he doesn't think 'what if buzen doesn't want to be found?' because he can't comprehend that possibility. not now, when he's nearly lost him -- can still lose him.]
buzen is simple, even in his sleep. most of his dreams are bright, illuminated with some kind of warmth, and clear. a race. a dance. a meal with his favorite people. but they rarely involve subconscious message or symbolism, instead just straightforward in their nonsense and simplicity.
(occasionally, they are empty and nothing - like there's nothing to be found at all. but those are rare enough.)
but when itsuki enters this dream, it's thick with smoke. it's dark and impossible to see. there is the occasional tendril of flame, bursts of warmth and danger. it is a building on fire, with long twisting hallways and it is impossible to navigate. there is the sound of footsteps - coming, going - all around, and it is another minute or two before those footsteps draw nearer, thundering and loud
buzen running in the maze of his own dream and memory, looking for the way out]
[Smoke and flame, and so much of both. He can barely see the walls that make up the hallway, scorched black as they are, and the heat too feels so real. Itsuki swallows once, throat already dry.
But this is only a dream, and it's keeping him from the person he wants to see the most. All he can see is flame, but he can hear well enough over the crackling of fire. Footsteps, and fast -- running at a pace that Itsuki knows all too well -- ]
...Buzen.
[he murmurs, and then -- draws in a breath, even as the dream smoke threatens to overwhelm him]
-- Buzen!!
[itsuki's a dream maker, but this is buzen's dream too -- which means he has power over it, so as much as Itsuki would like to tear this fiery veneer to shreds, he settles for the next best thing. He follows the rules of the dream. He runs along those twisting hallways, following the sound of Buzen's footsteps, and shouts his name.]
[the addition of itsuki to a dream always adds a certain level of panic for buzen.
why has itsuki run into honnouji just as it's burning? is he here because he heard buzen was in trouble? did love prompt him to run straight for his own demise, lost in the flames -
or is this just one more reason for buzen to find the exit?
itsuki might be able to hear it - the sound of feet skidding against the flooring, a screeching halt before the pace returns. somehow even faster still, then louder, closer.]
Suki! Suki!!
[he turns the corner - and immediately strips off the layer of his jacket, throwing it over itsuki's hair to shield him from any burning embers.]
Are you okay? Try not to breathe in too much - we'll get out. Just - we'll find it.
[If this was any other dream, then Itsuki would feel guilty at, yet again, causing Buzen distress. A part of him does, but it's overcome by the sheer relief on upon seeing him again -- even amongst fire and smoke.
Buzen with his eyes wide open, moving quickly, speaking his name -- Itsuki steps forward, heedless of the jacket over his head and the smoke in his eyes, and moves to wrap his arms around him.]
Buzen...
[the pressure he's exerting is tighter than usual, desperate in a way that Itsuki always is when he sees Buzen return from danger, but the expression on his face is -- peaceful, calm.]
[it's not that buzen doesn't rely on itsuki. on the contrary, he believes in itsuki more than anyone - but the ways that he relies on itsuki are different. for keeping him grounded, for helping him understand the tumbles of his own heart, and for giving him a home to return to.
the confidence of itsuki looking after him in a dangerous situation isn't exactly what he's used to relying on him for. there's a slight furrow in his brow - but he doesn't linger on it, doesn't have time to. there's a sudden crack overhead, a beam breaking after being eaten by flames, and he throws himself back, keeping itsuki in his arms. out of the way of danger - sort of.]
- then you can look after me, and I'll look after you. We still have to keep moving...
no, buzen's right. if itsuki has to be in a dream... then he'd rather it be a nice one, with the sword he loves. he moves along easily enough at the yank, but he brings his hands up again to cradle the sides of buzen's face]
I said so, didn't I? ...When it comes to dreams, I'm confident that I can protect you.
[he leans in, pressing his forehead against his. the smoke, thick as it is, lessening -- somehow? the dark paling to a gray, then dissipating]
You're not there any more, Buzen. You came home, remember? [...] Come back to me.
ah, right. buzen pauses at that and - while he's still tense, it slowly starts to melt away with the understanding. the smoke thins out and itsuki is in front of him, certain and assured. he breathes out a moment later, slow and measured as he keeps his gaze locked with his lover's.
right.
this is already over.]
... oh yeah.
[the fires slowly get put out, leaving them in the slightly crispy hallway, but buzen shakes his head a little like that'll help clear it.]
So - someone picked me up? [from the rubble. he wasn't left behind?] And - the mission went okay...?
[Itsuki's gaze in return is loving, and soft -- and intent? He's always focused when he looks at Buzen, but it's sharp this time, and maybe a little heavy.
the questions rouse him out of it a little, his brow furrowing]
The mission was -- [fine? a success? he thinks of blood, of buzen's body, of the tense expressions on kuwa and the other gou faces,] ...We achieved our goal, and we all came back.
Otegine-san went back to get you, and we carried you back home.
Ah, that's nice of him. I'll definitely have to give him my thanks.
[easily? buzen seems to settle then, relaxing considerably. the scenery around them slowly but surely gets patched up with conscious effort - the wood heals over and gets replaced, as though the passage of time is aiding in reconstruction.
whatever distress or frustration he wore moments ago disappears, now that he knows they're in a dream. he can imagine he didn't look great when he was found but it seems like...]
So I didn't break?
[though
it's admittedly really not the first question he had, which is a problem all its own]
[the good thing about this being buzen's dream is that itsuki can't subconsciously influence it, it can't react to his emotions or feelings -- like the feelings he's experiencing now, looking at buzen and hearing him ask his questions (like he's surprised that someone picked up, like he's curious over what happened without a trace of concern.)
something churns in his gut, even as his voice remains level,]
...Would you be here if you had?
[it's a sincere question, because he wants to know too, about how swords work. if the breaking really is the be all, end all. if there's really no chance of coming back after,]
[ . . . well. he seems to be thinking about it, tilting his head response.
would he still be here?]
... probably not? [he's not sure, but if he were to take a guess...] I think when swords break, it's like when humans die. We don't really know where our spirits go, but they can't be reached anymore.
[he knows, at least, that this type of discussion bothers itsuki. any talk of buzen going first. again.
he cups his cheek and lets his thumb brush over his face]
[Itsuki leans instinctively into Buzen's touch, lingering on the warmth he can feel from him. That warmth has saved Itsuki so many times... It's kept him grounded and safe.... but now?
It just reminds him of everything he could have lost, and still could. He turns his head and presses his mouth to Buzen's palm, quiet.
the reality of that starts to settle in - buzen knew, from the moment that he lost consciousness. it was a little terribly familiar, for someone who had already died once. but this time wicked and marie weren't there to hold his hand - and this time, he nearly died for the sake of the mission.
it's what he was forged for. it was nearly fulfilling his purpose.
but he knows that would only upset itsuki to hear. his free hand goes to rest at itsuki's waist, guiding him closer - if he'll let buzen hold him.]
... 'forever' isn't really something either of us can have so easily, Suki.
[even if buzen expects to live a long time, he knows itsuki won't. even if he can hope that he'll always exist in some form, and find a way to come back... that's not the same thing as having eternity uninterrupted]
[he moves neatly into buzen's embrace, pressing his chin onto his shoulder. for the warmth, for the comfort. to somehow erase the memory of the weakness of buzen's grip, of his blood. (it'd been like this after itsuki had killed his first man too. blood, and then an overwhelming amount of touch to make up for it.) and to hide his expression too, as he searches for the words.]
[he reiterates, voice growing more confident as he thinks upon this idea that he's only ever entertained in those very brief moments when struck with jealousy or when waiting in the repairs room. But he has thought this before, and often enough that he remembers it all clearly.]
[he's pretty sure that he knows that - it's why he's confident enough to say that in the first place, right? this is itsuki's domain, where things can be shaped to what he wants.]
so he changes it, shifts the smoke-stained walls of honnouji and turns it into fields of grass, an open sky. the type of place where he knows buzen would love to run in.]
My power's not good for much, or for anything. But I can give us this. I've done it before.
[ . . . hmmm. buzen watches the scenery shift, and frowns faintly even as the landscape changes. it's true. he loves how this looks, and he always admires how itsuki has such a mastery over dreams.
but.
he looks back to him again and shakes his head.]
I love sharing my dreams with you, Suki. I love spending time with you, and I'll always want more of it. I love your power too, and what comforts you can bring to people.
But I don't want to be here forever, even if we can be.
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no subject
but it's hard to say how many of the words make it to buzen's ears - when it's confirmed the mission is a success, there is less of an effort for him to open his eyes. he trusts that. he doesn't need to see for himself, to check if time has stopped flowing or if they're all in danger. that's good, then, that they succeeded.
even if everything is feeling a little further away, a little darker. this is familiar, he thinks. it's been months now since this feeling - but there is an awareness in the back of his mind.
he's close to dying.
last time this happened, marie was left crying into his shoulder and clutching onto his bloodied hand. he can hear the same emotion in kuwana's voice, in itsuki's, and his hand twitches - weakly - to try to reach for his. the corner of his mouth twitches like he's trying for a smile, even though it takes so much effort to even stay awake.]
..... 'll see... you soon.
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Is it the iron tang scent of blood? The way Buzen's eyes flutter open and closed? The twitch at the corner of his mouth that's a far cry from his usual smile? His hand moving ever so slightly -- seeking to comfort, even now?
Maybe it's just one, maybe it's all of them -- or maybe it's the words Itsuki has to focus just to hear. See you soon. He's heard this promise before, on the worst day of his life. So to hear them now while also having to see -- it's all a nightmare, and it pushes him over the edge. He thought he could wear some semblance of calm, keep his emotions pressed in his heart, but he can't. Six weeks in the prism and he still doesn't understand death, how can he be expected to understand it now?
His own hand is shaking, but he grabs for Buzen's hand anyway, the strength of his grip bruising -- the words are the worst. there's a fissure in his heart and the edges are breaking,]
-- No. [defiant, desperate. voice shaking even more than his hands, rough with terror] See me now. Look at me, Buzen. Please. Please.
[the mission's over for now, and it doesn't need buzen any more -- but itsuki still does, itsuki always will. and selfishly, he thinks his need is greater. if he can anchor buzen to him with just the force of his gaze, then he can do that. he could do anything. if only he could. heat burns in the corner of his eyes, and a faraway part of him remembers the last time he'd cried too -- in that stilted, cramped box swinging idly from the ferris wheel -- in that quiet, empty cell of a room -- all for one person, and one person only.]
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distantly, buzen can hear his name being said by the person he loves - feeling the grip on his hand. he doesn't know if he can muster up the strength to open his eyes again, already feeling his own breath difficult to catch. he wants to answer. what could he say?
you'll be okay.
don't be scared.
i love you.
would any of that help, he wonders? there is a barely there effort to get his lips to part, but he can't find his voice to say anything more. his fingers curl, ever so slightly against itsuki's hand, trying to hold it back - but his ever reliable strength is slipping from him.
everything is slipping from him, too quickly. for once, far too quickly.
kuwana moves - 'suki, let's take him—' - shaky, fearful, but determined. they have to rush to the repairs room. they have to race buzen before he crosses this finish line.]
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if that's what it takes to get them there faster, then it only makes sense to let go. so he does, inevitably lagging behind as kuwa and the others rush buzen to repairs.
eventually, he makes it into the room after them, hands fisted at his side in order to catch that phantom feeling of buzen's hand in his, moving close but not too close in an effort to let the master of the citadel do the one thing for buzen itsuki cannot.
Live. The word pounds in his skull like a mantra, hard enough that Itsuki can barely keep it reined between his teeth. Live. Live. Live. For the sake of history, for the timeline buzen swore to protect, for his comrades, for the aruji -- except Itsuki's not thinking of any of that, as he wrenches his gaze from buzen's bloodied body to the sword in aruji's hand and back again. Selfishly, desperately --
Live. For me.]
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all the other gous are already crowded outside, expressions all grim and worried even as they automatically check on both kuwana and itsuki, wondering if they're safe too.
if they're anywhere near whole.
it takes some time longer for repairs to finish - hours, at that point - before some of them are called to help transport buzen to a different room. he is unconscious, still not responsive, but he is no longer bloodied and near broken at least.]
no subject
instead, he follows as the gous sweep in and out of the room, carrying buzen between them, keeps moving instinctively until he's in that very same room where they've laid him out.
the gous and swords talk quietly amongst themselves because as buzen's companions they all want to keep watch, to wait for that moment when buzen wakes up. Itsuki approaches the bed and looks down. buzen is no longer bloodied and near broken. and yet that's all itsuki can see. his bloodstained fingers tremble, hovering over buzen's face -- and then his hand, hovering over instead of closing the gap.
someone asks itsuki what he needs, and he just shakes his head. he needs to see buzen's eyes open, and to feel his hand squeeze his back when he holds it. he needs it so desperately.
he can't wait any longer.
he'd take the chair but he doesn't want to risk someone moving him, or waking him up. instead he sits on the floor next to buzen's bed, rests his head on the edge of the mattress and closes his eyes. he'd have thought it'd take some time to fall asleep -- but his desire, keen-edged and desperate, puts him to sleep almost immediately. reaching for buzen's dreams is pure instinct by now, he knows them as well as his own. hadn't he promised buzen once that he'd always try to find him?
he doesn't think 'what if buzen doesn't want to be found?' because he can't comprehend that possibility. not now, when he's nearly lost him -- can still lose him.]
no subject
buzen is simple, even in his sleep. most of his dreams are bright, illuminated with some kind of warmth, and clear. a race. a dance. a meal with his favorite people. but they rarely involve subconscious message or symbolism, instead just straightforward in their nonsense and simplicity.
(occasionally, they are empty and nothing - like there's nothing to be found at all. but those are rare enough.)
but when itsuki enters this dream, it's thick with smoke. it's dark and impossible to see. there is the occasional tendril of flame, bursts of warmth and danger. it is a building on fire, with long twisting hallways and it is impossible to navigate. there is the sound of footsteps - coming, going - all around, and it is another minute or two before those footsteps draw nearer, thundering and loud
buzen running in the maze of his own dream and memory, looking for the way out]
- this way? No, it's...
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But this is only a dream, and it's keeping him from the person he wants to see the most. All he can see is flame, but he can hear well enough over the crackling of fire. Footsteps, and fast -- running at a pace that Itsuki knows all too well -- ]
...Buzen.
[he murmurs, and then -- draws in a breath, even as the dream smoke threatens to overwhelm him]
-- Buzen!!
[itsuki's a dream maker, but this is buzen's dream too -- which means he has power over it, so as much as Itsuki would like to tear this fiery veneer to shreds, he settles for the next best thing. He follows the rules of the dream. He runs along those twisting hallways, following the sound of Buzen's footsteps, and shouts his name.]
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why has itsuki run into honnouji just as it's burning? is he here because he heard buzen was in trouble? did love prompt him to run straight for his own demise, lost in the flames -
or is this just one more reason for buzen to find the exit?
itsuki might be able to hear it - the sound of feet skidding against the flooring, a screeching halt before the pace returns. somehow even faster still, then louder, closer.]
Suki! Suki!!
[he turns the corner - and immediately strips off the layer of his jacket, throwing it over itsuki's hair to shield him from any burning embers.]
Are you okay? Try not to breathe in too much - we'll get out. Just - we'll find it.
[the exit....]
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Buzen with his eyes wide open, moving quickly, speaking his name -- Itsuki steps forward, heedless of the jacket over his head and the smoke in his eyes, and moves to wrap his arms around him.]
Buzen...
[the pressure he's exerting is tighter than usual, desperate in a way that Itsuki always is when he sees Buzen return from danger, but the expression on his face is -- peaceful, calm.]
It's okay. I won't let anything happen to you.
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[it's not that buzen doesn't rely on itsuki. on the contrary, he believes in itsuki more than anyone - but the ways that he relies on itsuki are different. for keeping him grounded, for helping him understand the tumbles of his own heart, and for giving him a home to return to.
the confidence of itsuki looking after him in a dangerous situation isn't exactly what he's used to relying on him for. there's a slight furrow in his brow - but he doesn't linger on it, doesn't have time to. there's a sudden crack overhead, a beam breaking after being eaten by flames, and he throws himself back, keeping itsuki in his arms. out of the way of danger - sort of.]
- then you can look after me, and I'll look after you. We still have to keep moving...
no subject
no, buzen's right. if itsuki has to be in a dream... then he'd rather it be a nice one, with the sword he loves. he moves along easily enough at the yank, but he brings his hands up again to cradle the sides of buzen's face]
I said so, didn't I? ...When it comes to dreams, I'm confident that I can protect you.
[he leans in, pressing his forehead against his. the smoke, thick as it is, lessening -- somehow? the dark paling to a gray, then dissipating]
You're not there any more, Buzen. You came home, remember? [...] Come back to me.
no subject
ah, right. buzen pauses at that and - while he's still tense, it slowly starts to melt away with the understanding. the smoke thins out and itsuki is in front of him, certain and assured. he breathes out a moment later, slow and measured as he keeps his gaze locked with his lover's.
right.
this is already over.]
... oh yeah.
[the fires slowly get put out, leaving them in the slightly crispy hallway, but buzen shakes his head a little like that'll help clear it.]
So - someone picked me up? [from the rubble. he wasn't left behind?] And - the mission went okay...?
no subject
the questions rouse him out of it a little, his brow furrowing]
The mission was -- [fine? a success? he thinks of blood, of buzen's body, of the tense expressions on kuwa and the other gou faces,] ...We achieved our goal, and we all came back.
Otegine-san went back to get you, and we carried you back home.
[of course they picked him up?]
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[easily? buzen seems to settle then, relaxing considerably. the scenery around them slowly but surely gets patched up with conscious effort - the wood heals over and gets replaced, as though the passage of time is aiding in reconstruction.
whatever distress or frustration he wore moments ago disappears, now that he knows they're in a dream. he can imagine he didn't look great when he was found but it seems like...]
So I didn't break?
[though
it's admittedly really not the first question he had, which is a problem all its own]
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something churns in his gut, even as his voice remains level,]
...Would you be here if you had?
[it's a sincere question, because he wants to know too, about how swords work. if the breaking really is the be all, end all. if there's really no chance of coming back after,]
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would he still be here?]
... probably not? [he's not sure, but if he were to take a guess...] I think when swords break, it's like when humans die. We don't really know where our spirits go, but they can't be reached anymore.
[he knows, at least, that this type of discussion bothers itsuki. any talk of buzen going first. again.
he cups his cheek and lets his thumb brush over his face]
I'm okay.
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It just reminds him of everything he could have lost, and still could. He turns his head and presses his mouth to Buzen's palm, quiet.
...]
I wish I could keep you with me forever.
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the reality of that starts to settle in - buzen knew, from the moment that he lost consciousness. it was a little terribly familiar, for someone who had already died once. but this time wicked and marie weren't there to hold his hand - and this time, he nearly died for the sake of the mission.
it's what he was forged for. it was nearly fulfilling his purpose.
but he knows that would only upset itsuki to hear. his free hand goes to rest at itsuki's waist, guiding him closer - if he'll let buzen hold him.]
... 'forever' isn't really something either of us can have so easily, Suki.
[even if buzen expects to live a long time, he knows itsuki won't. even if he can hope that he'll always exist in some form, and find a way to come back... that's not the same thing as having eternity uninterrupted]
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...What if it could be?
['easy']
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What do you mean?
[how could something so out of reach be easy?]
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[he reiterates, voice growing more confident as he thinks upon this idea that he's only ever entertained in those very brief moments when struck with jealousy or when waiting in the repairs room. But he has thought this before, and often enough that he remembers it all clearly.]
If it's here, then it's possible.
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This is a dream, Suki.
[he's pretty sure that he knows that - it's why he's confident enough to say that in the first place, right? this is itsuki's domain, where things can be shaped to what he wants.]
I can't sleep forever.
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...You know, you'd be surprised.
[...he doesn't like where they are.
so he changes it, shifts the smoke-stained walls of honnouji and turns it into fields of grass, an open sky. the type of place where he knows buzen would love to run in.]
My power's not good for much, or for anything. But I can give us this. I've done it before.
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but.
he looks back to him again and shakes his head.]
I love sharing my dreams with you, Suki. I love spending time with you, and I'll always want more of it. I love your power too, and what comforts you can bring to people.
But I don't want to be here forever, even if we can be.
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