[ He's so close. His shoulders may be delicate, but they've already withstood so much. They can also bear this, even if unused to the mete of gentleness; it's the second time he's felt himself relaxing when given the gift of his weight. All at once, Subaru is no longer casting the eye of the storm, but standing in it alongside him. Even as its vortex smears with all manner of memory, running riot and animal red, refusing to be wielded like the cleaver of his memories, it affords a reprieve among its glimpses of horror.
He sees it now, how long he's been struggling against nightfall. Subaru wanted to protect him so badly that he forced the connection in a moment of weakness and desperation. He doesn't know that he can trust this magic any more than Choi can trust the way these feral instincts have metastasized to his humanity.
But he decided long ago — doing something is better than the comfortable safety of doing nothing.
Is it selfish? It must be. Did he know? He must have.
He gazes at his hand clasped to his own, the tension banded brightly in his knuckles. Hands are a language. He knew this as an onmyouji, knows it now as a runecaster. They are the conduit through which words may be conveyed, the arbiters of all emotion, understanding, and human resonance. When he envisions it, a tether, he imagines something he can glance his fingertips off of, something he can touch. Energy he can bend into forms that better suit the cosmic bloom of his will. It's a language he's sought all his life. And it's terrifying in its potential. Hands are instruments of prayer, connection, and unthinkable violence. Subaru's scars burn, even if they remain unseen.
To feel human is to feel the breadth of it, even in the blinding syllables of regret. If Choi doesn't trust what his hands are becoming in the blood-melting presence of her, then Subaru will trust them for him.
Softly, so softly, he places his other hand over Choi's, thumb tracing the little bones beneath this skin.
So, he doesn't like tethers... ]
Do you like me, then?
[ To invoke, to speak, is the other conduit of language. It's how stories survive. ]
[ the soft gesture is clearly foreign to the deeply scarred hand that accepts it. still, agent choi's gaze flickers up at that, trying to meet subaru's. it's such a simple question, and yet, not at all what choi had expected. the laughter he offers in return escapes him all at once, like a breath long held—all air, little voice. exhausted but sincere. ]
Haha! Sure, let's go with that.
[ it doesn't sound wrong.
agent choi does like his kindness—the heart that seems to bleed into his even though he doesn't quite deserve it at a time like this. perhaps he understands that precious, selfless instinct well enough himself, but it's rarely found in others. he likes that sharp thinking of his, but isn't that a necessity for their line of work? he likes his patience, and the way his too-fast world seems to slow down in a shared moment with him. what do they call that, again? theory of relativity, right? he likes sharing cigarettes with him too, and chatting under a moon that hangs far too close for comfort.
so he can say it easily: ]
Yeah. I like you, Subaru.
[ their connection may not have started out as anything special, or even particularly personal. no more than agent choi's instinct to protect him had been. they're both just exactly that kind of person; they can't turn their backs on someone in danger, or in need. is that the kind of situation it was?
in the beginning, maybe. but somehow, it did become important to him—the hand that was held out to him in a lonely place like this. ]
[ That's better. Laughter is better, even if wrung of its intensity by fatigue. Fatigue is also fine. Fatigue, fear, distrust... they can all be overcome with the right touch, if someone is willing to meet him where he stands. It doesn't even have to be halfway. It can just be this: a feeling, a chance, the half-light of his honesty echoing in the radiant dark. ]
I'm glad. [ His touch traces something on the back of Choi's hand. ] Is that why you kept it?
[ Their tether. ]
Even though I thought... it'd be fine. If you snapped it the moment the fighting was over.
[ Instead, it's become what allows him to be here. It's what allows him to find him every time, no matter how maligned the moonlight is. By his side on the bench. Sunken down into the tempestuous flutter of his soul, transmuting the sigil he draws on his hand from the physical to the spiritual. ]
I resolved to let you do that, if that's what you wanted.
[ his gaze lowers, watching the pattern as it's slowly traced against his hand. ]
Hmm, that seems a little cold though?
[ after subaru went through all that trouble for him, enduring the crashing tsunami of agent choi's tumultuous heart. it strikes him as almost a little ungrateful to toss him aside so easily, though his reasons aren't entirely unselfish either.
if there's going to have to be someone at his side to endure through all of this... someone who he places his faith in, just like that blue eyed boy he'd been trying to reach, and someone he trusts well enough to let himself be seen in a moment of weakness like this? it's a tall order, certainly. even now he finds himself hesitant. reluctant.
but if it has to be someone, out of everyone he's met so far... ]
Well, anyway, I was the one who said we should make the most of what we've got.
[ just as he's done tonight, taking advantage of subaru's kind heart. ]
[ Subaru's gaze flicks aside, even if all he can really stare at in his surprise is the top of his head. Little adorns his expression for once; the words catch him off his guard. His own feelings never factored into his decision. Even if it was momentarily painful or caused discomfort, it'd be a small price to pay if it as for him.
...but isn't this always the way? His clumsy words, sowing hurt even now, no matter how good his intentions are. ]
Maybe you're right.
[ Where his fingers slacked in wonder, they now regain some of their strength. Enough to layer the sigils in a flat band of light on his skin. It permeates down through his physical body, into the tether, through bone and blood and delicate synapse. Subaru delivers this pathfinding spell to him deep in the recesses of his soul where all these memories coalesce. He doesn't force it this time. He wants Agent Choi to choose it. ]
If that's so... [ If he likes him enough. ] will you follow me out of this place?
[ Away from the grinning jaws of succumbence, poised like a trap. ]
[ there's a sense of finality to subaru's invitation—something more than welcome to choi by now. after all, jeez, talk about a long day. to call it exhausting would be an understatement. dangerous too, and perhaps the terrifying embrace of succumbence wrapped around him a little more tightly than even he had fully been prepared for, arranging all this. at the same time... he can't say he regrets the choices that have brought him here.
it's just that going back sounds nice right about now. ]
You're gonna keep holding my hand so I don't get lost?
[ there's a playful, teasing lilt to choi's words, straightening himself up and lifting his head from subaru's shoulder. his eyes rest first on his hand—their hands, really, fingers still intertwined. on the slowly fading glow of the sigil that's sunk into his skin. even dissipated he can feel its presence, warm and familiar. then, he turns his attention to subaru, smiling warmly—tiredly. ]
[ Don't wander from him and he won't have to. More of a sentiment, silvery and strong along the line of the tether, than a conscious thought.
A working exorcist's day is never over, it seems. ]
You can try it. That mark I left to you.
[ Once Choi rights himself, Subaru lets go of him with his topmost hand but keeps hold of him with the other. He pushes to a stand in a flutter of his runecast birds, some of which swoop low and then dart off ahead. Paused there, he finally pulls to beckon him up to his feet. Movement shatters some of succumbence's spell, though he can still feel the circling of its miasma, ready to exploit weakness. And weakness thrives here, in wounds, in scars, in the dream-torn faults of this reality.
Subaru hefts the weight of his hand up. ]
If you're having trouble finding your way, invoke it. It'll show you through.
[ Here, in these streets exsanguinated by the moon, or in the close corners of his heart, where all the things he fears and distrusts might actually dwell. All he needs to do is put his hand against the obstacle and watch the way the light works. ]
but choi will allow himself to be pulled up to his feet, giving his legs a stretch and suppressing the yawn that gathers in the back of his throat. it wasn't such a bad nap, but now it's time to return to the waking world and all the responsibilities that come with it, right? so once he listens to subaru's explanation, choi will go ahead and reluctantly disentangle their hands himself. his shoulder still brushes against the other's, but he holds his out in front of him to examine it.
so it's that kind of spell, huh. ]
Okie-dokie.
[ as eloquent as ever in these broken, still burning remains of what manhattan had once been, he'll close his eyes. his hand is still held out, fingers splayed, but this isn't such a physical obstacle that he's facing anyway. rather, in the midst of these memories that don't belong to him, their sorrow and their fear and the eerie sense of peace that still licks at his heels, pulling and inviting him closer, there's something specific he's looking for. a lifeline that no longer feels quite so delicate as it once was.
and if choi wraps his hand around it, following it to its source...
it will guide him back to their manhattan, where he opens his eyes to a city no less broken, but now familiar enough to call his own.
the space at their feet and all around them is clear now of the blooms that had been attempting to embrace him in the dream, but his scar itches, and subaru will see it ringed around his neck: the beginnings of a kind of fungal lace. it's still early yet though—nothing that an absent set of fingernails can't dislodge, and choi looks down with an expression of distaste as he examines the remains. ]
[ Because Choi is standing here with him now, squarely on the desolate pavement of a red-seethed Manhattan. The one that exists now, the real one — whatever it might count for. His sigil did its job, its ink dark and alive, drawing strength from that of their connection. No longer torn in two, oscillating between the conjured pull of memory and the hymn of the moon, Subaru can also breathe easier.
Though his expression does briefly snag on his scar's latticed intruder. He holds his hand out for it. ]
Nah. Well, it's kind of uncomfortable, but that's just from touching it.
[ this scar, it's probably easy to tell just by looking at it that it hasn't healed so well, but he'll place the latticed fungal growth in subaru's hand anyway if that's what he wants. his fingers linger for just a moment as they brush against his skin. then it's a glance to the ink marking the back of his hand, back to subaru, and choi'll reach that hand around to rest on his opposite shoulder, pulling him a little closer.
his grin starts off bright—proud, even. ]
Anyway, I knew I picked the right guy for the job~
[ Jostled close, Subaru's gaze flicks aside, surprise muted but sincere. There's a comfort in it, the weight of his arm and his warmth and the irreverence of it being work, nothing more and nothing less than that — his fingers close around the piece of growth. It then lowers, finality in that action, too. ]
You can call on me anytime.
[ He nudges into his side. ]
We shouldn't stay here long. It's still not safe.
[ And, in leaving behind the bench, in moving forward, a quiet glyph ignites in his palm, burning the growth to ash in his closed fist. Let it be a warning to the rest of it. ]
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no subject
He sees it now, how long he's been struggling against nightfall. Subaru wanted to protect him so badly that he forced the connection in a moment of weakness and desperation. He doesn't know that he can trust this magic any more than Choi can trust the way these feral instincts have metastasized to his humanity.
But he decided long ago — doing something is better than the comfortable safety of doing nothing.
Is it selfish? It must be. Did he know? He must have.
He gazes at his hand clasped to his own, the tension banded brightly in his knuckles. Hands are a language. He knew this as an onmyouji, knows it now as a runecaster. They are the conduit through which words may be conveyed, the arbiters of all emotion, understanding, and human resonance. When he envisions it, a tether, he imagines something he can glance his fingertips off of, something he can touch. Energy he can bend into forms that better suit the cosmic bloom of his will. It's a language he's sought all his life. And it's terrifying in its potential. Hands are instruments of prayer, connection, and unthinkable violence. Subaru's scars burn, even if they remain unseen.
To feel human is to feel the breadth of it, even in the blinding syllables of regret. If Choi doesn't trust what his hands are becoming in the blood-melting presence of her, then Subaru will trust them for him.
Softly, so softly, he places his other hand over Choi's, thumb tracing the little bones beneath this skin.
So, he doesn't like tethers... ]
Do you like me, then?
[ To invoke, to speak, is the other conduit of language. It's how stories survive. ]
no subject
Haha! Sure, let's go with that.
[ it doesn't sound wrong.
agent choi does like his kindness—the heart that seems to bleed into his even though he doesn't quite deserve it at a time like this. perhaps he understands that precious, selfless instinct well enough himself, but it's rarely found in others. he likes that sharp thinking of his, but isn't that a necessity for their line of work? he likes his patience, and the way his too-fast world seems to slow down in a shared moment with him. what do they call that, again? theory of relativity, right? he likes sharing cigarettes with him too, and chatting under a moon that hangs far too close for comfort.
so he can say it easily: ]
Yeah. I like you, Subaru.
[ their connection may not have started out as anything special, or even particularly personal. no more than agent choi's instinct to protect him had been. they're both just exactly that kind of person; they can't turn their backs on someone in danger, or in need. is that the kind of situation it was?
in the beginning, maybe. but somehow, it did become important to him—the hand that was held out to him in a lonely place like this. ]
no subject
I'm glad. [ His touch traces something on the back of Choi's hand. ] Is that why you kept it?
[ Their tether. ]
Even though I thought... it'd be fine. If you snapped it the moment the fighting was over.
[ Instead, it's become what allows him to be here. It's what allows him to find him every time, no matter how maligned the moonlight is. By his side on the bench. Sunken down into the tempestuous flutter of his soul, transmuting the sigil he draws on his hand from the physical to the spiritual. ]
I resolved to let you do that, if that's what you wanted.
[ Yet he hadn't. ]
no subject
Hmm, that seems a little cold though?
[ after subaru went through all that trouble for him, enduring the crashing tsunami of agent choi's tumultuous heart. it strikes him as almost a little ungrateful to toss him aside so easily, though his reasons aren't entirely unselfish either.
if there's going to have to be someone at his side to endure through all of this... someone who he places his faith in, just like that blue eyed boy he'd been trying to reach, and someone he trusts well enough to let himself be seen in a moment of weakness like this? it's a tall order, certainly. even now he finds himself hesitant. reluctant.
but if it has to be someone, out of everyone he's met so far... ]
Well, anyway, I was the one who said we should make the most of what we've got.
[ just as he's done tonight, taking advantage of subaru's kind heart. ]
no subject
...but isn't this always the way? His clumsy words, sowing hurt even now, no matter how good his intentions are. ]
Maybe you're right.
[ Where his fingers slacked in wonder, they now regain some of their strength. Enough to layer the sigils in a flat band of light on his skin. It permeates down through his physical body, into the tether, through bone and blood and delicate synapse. Subaru delivers this pathfinding spell to him deep in the recesses of his soul where all these memories coalesce. He doesn't force it this time. He wants Agent Choi to choose it. ]
If that's so... [ If he likes him enough. ] will you follow me out of this place?
[ Away from the grinning jaws of succumbence, poised like a trap. ]
no subject
it's just that going back sounds nice right about now. ]
You're gonna keep holding my hand so I don't get lost?
[ there's a playful, teasing lilt to choi's words, straightening himself up and lifting his head from subaru's shoulder. his eyes rest first on his hand—their hands, really, fingers still intertwined. on the slowly fading glow of the sigil that's sunk into his skin. even dissipated he can feel its presence, warm and familiar. then, he turns his attention to subaru, smiling warmly—tiredly. ]
Alright, let's go then.
no subject
A working exorcist's day is never over, it seems. ]
You can try it. That mark I left to you.
[ Once Choi rights himself, Subaru lets go of him with his topmost hand but keeps hold of him with the other. He pushes to a stand in a flutter of his runecast birds, some of which swoop low and then dart off ahead. Paused there, he finally pulls to beckon him up to his feet. Movement shatters some of succumbence's spell, though he can still feel the circling of its miasma, ready to exploit weakness. And weakness thrives here, in wounds, in scars, in the dream-torn faults of this reality.
Subaru hefts the weight of his hand up. ]
If you're having trouble finding your way, invoke it. It'll show you through.
[ Here, in these streets exsanguinated by the moon, or in the close corners of his heart, where all the things he fears and distrusts might actually dwell. All he needs to do is put his hand against the obstacle and watch the way the light works. ]
no subject
but choi will allow himself to be pulled up to his feet, giving his legs a stretch and suppressing the yawn that gathers in the back of his throat. it wasn't such a bad nap, but now it's time to return to the waking world and all the responsibilities that come with it, right? so once he listens to subaru's explanation, choi will go ahead and reluctantly disentangle their hands himself. his shoulder still brushes against the other's, but he holds his out in front of him to examine it.
so it's that kind of spell, huh. ]
Okie-dokie.
[ as eloquent as ever in these broken, still burning remains of what manhattan had once been, he'll close his eyes. his hand is still held out, fingers splayed, but this isn't such a physical obstacle that he's facing anyway. rather, in the midst of these memories that don't belong to him, their sorrow and their fear and the eerie sense of peace that still licks at his heels, pulling and inviting him closer, there's something specific he's looking for. a lifeline that no longer feels quite so delicate as it once was.
and if choi wraps his hand around it, following it to its source...
it will guide him back to their manhattan, where he opens his eyes to a city no less broken, but now familiar enough to call his own.
the space at their feet and all around them is clear now of the blooms that had been attempting to embrace him in the dream, but his scar itches, and subaru will see it ringed around his neck: the beginnings of a kind of fungal lace. it's still early yet though—nothing that an absent set of fingernails can't dislodge, and choi looks down with an expression of distaste as he examines the remains. ]
Eugh. What the...
[ which is to say: he's probably fine now. ]
no subject
Welcome back.
[ Because Choi is standing here with him now, squarely on the desolate pavement of a red-seethed Manhattan. The one that exists now, the real one — whatever it might count for. His sigil did its job, its ink dark and alive, drawing strength from that of their connection. No longer torn in two, oscillating between the conjured pull of memory and the hymn of the moon, Subaru can also breathe easier.
Though his expression does briefly snag on his scar's latticed intruder. He holds his hand out for it. ]
Does it hurt at all?
no subject
[ this scar, it's probably easy to tell just by looking at it that it hasn't healed so well, but he'll place the latticed fungal growth in subaru's hand anyway if that's what he wants. his fingers linger for just a moment as they brush against his skin. then it's a glance to the ink marking the back of his hand, back to subaru, and choi'll reach that hand around to rest on his opposite shoulder, pulling him a little closer.
his grin starts off bright—proud, even. ]
Anyway, I knew I picked the right guy for the job~
[ before softening a bit. ]
Thanks. Again.
🎀
You can call on me anytime.
[ He nudges into his side. ]
We shouldn't stay here long. It's still not safe.
[ And, in leaving behind the bench, in moving forward, a quiet glyph ignites in his palm, burning the growth to ash in his closed fist. Let it be a warning to the rest of it. ]