Day 42: Magus Park [evening]

[fourtharcana]

The temperature was starting to cool down, but that was okay with Akihiko. It wasn't that much different from winter evenings back home. He was feeling better, having been outside most of the day, but still. That niggling stress from the previous few days was still getting to him. He sighed, looking up at the darkening sky and thinking about it all

Comments

[purpletaint]

[continuing from here]

Perhaps he registered the adults walking away, perhaps he didn't. Albedo had continued his downward slump until he was on the ground--once again, he might say--a crumbled heap of something miserable, limbs askew like his puppet strings had been cut. And what had that accomplished, he wondered, other than making everything worse?

The panic had diluted by this point, perhaps they had found a concoction better suited for him, or perhaps it was all in his head (and wasn't that funny?), and if even he had wanted to continue his violence and monologues, his limbs weren't fit to play the part. Heavy and leaden, Albedo stared sadly at them, knowing that no matter what he asked, they couldn't give at this moment. How completely funny. All of the things that the boy was able to do, and these chemicals trumped the chemicals in his head

[falseblack]

They had gone mostly away without the usual banter, and Nigredo recanted the earlier judgment. They had served their purpose; he wasn't in a position to claim otherwise. He wasn't in a position to do much else, actually. The former haze was quickly shifting to a fog.

The child lifted a slow hand to his cheek, distinctly aware of the collection of dirt and sweat against skin. Evidence of how close they--he had come. His expression broke into open disgust, and he brushed both hands down the sides of his pant legs, the move harboring a type of hidden fury. In reality, he felt too placid, oddly content. Whatever they had used, he decided, must have severed the connections to want. Albedo could kill him now, or he could thrash about wildly and talk of things Nigredo didn't understand. The latter wouldn't care.

Wouldn't care... Green eyes followed an invisible line to the heap some ways away. He looked miserable, more like the middle child Nigredo once knew, and in his chemical-induced murk, the youngest grew annoyed. Had his own brother'

[purpletaint]

Something in him was shaking, something was breaking down far too quickly. There was no Rubedo this time; the haze of U-DO had lifted once more by this, leaving him genuinely alone. Genuinely afraid. There was no buffer, no protection, from this often hidden truth. This inherent universal truth.

Albedo was alone. He was alone, and that was how it was and how it would be, because he couldn't die. And it wasn't okay anymore, it wasn't all right, and it wasn't a gift, it was a curse, a burden, and how did he continue each day, knowing this, knowing this, and! There was no silence any longer--Albedo had curled in on himself, muffling his sobs. There was no thought for attention. He had simply been made aware of exactly how broken he was. And Rubedo was no where near to assuage the hurt. And Rubedo was the hurt! He couldn't stand it! He couldn't live like... Live? Live like this! It was so... So funny

[falseblack]

His response was...unexpected. Then again, Albedo ran on inconsistency; it shouldn't alarm Nigredo to witness another facet turn upon its head. Besides, who knew how long this would last? He was good to keep up doubt.

But the moment it was mentioned and he saw his brother's face twist terribly, the former indifference dipped low. The implications of his own words were made clear: this was not a topic to tread lightly. Nigredo was wrong to have done so in the first place.

He dropped his gaze. "I'm sorry." A sigh. "I didn't mean it."

[purpletaint]

"You did," Albedo attested, sobbing the words. "You just want to--" Leave. "--...leave," he whispered. It settled like a stone, rolling down his chest and into his stomach. His hand moved jerkily to the earth as if to clutch at what was there. It stopped above it, shaking, then slowly settled to press there instead.

"You always wanted that," he kept whispering. "So go." He swallowed, shoulders shaking in waves, the shudders slipping down his frame like waves. Going? Away? This couldn't--He couldn't--And, and, and yet--

And.

Hand still splayed, he curled again, touching his forehead to his folded knee. "Don't leave," he forced out. "Don't." It was too much, too little. Albedo couldn't be alone. He was alone. Nigredo couldn't. And Albedo... couldn't. And somewhere still. Somewhere.

He rolled his head slightly, one eye peeking out under his bangs. In all of his misery, he still managed to keep a steady gaze, tearful as it was. His voice was hoarse, but his belief in the thought echoed clear: "You always hated me."

[falseblack]

Nigredo could not deny the accusation, as much as rejection made him the better brother. To leave was a temptation he'd often contemplated, albeit for reasons he would never voice. That thought clung even now; walking away would bury their issues, would it not?

But like every time before, Nigredo stayed put, ironically for the very reasons which called him away.

Fortunately, the need to voice his objections died, though the child couldn't resist a frown at the obvious contraction. This was the second since the nurses' intervention. "You're not making sense," Nigredo stated meekly. Their syringes must have done quite a number on his poor brother's brain. His basic sense of logic was shot.

But could he not say the same for himself? He didn't know, but that last comment... Irritation piqued without hesitation. "Don't be ridiculous. Why would I hate you?"

[purpletaint]

This provoked a giggle, a shadow of the ones prior. It died early, his eyes closing in a self-deprecating humor. "Did I ever?" His voice was still soft.

Surely they thought that, the both of them. Even before... Even before their parting (tearing), they must have thought he was mad. Disappearing, issuing statements about death and life before falling silent. Clinging with his might to Rubedo while doing the very things that would drive him away. Albedo wasn't an idiot. He knew all of that.

And now he knew more. He knew why certain stars shined as they did before they went out, he knew the guttering gasp of a dying man, he knew the severe destruction that came from love, and Albedo knew a hopeless situation. All of this, and still... Still he remained sealed in this fate, something darker than before, and....

The boy propped himself up again, unconsciously dragging a hand across his eyes, streaking the dirt there. Sitting was too much effort; his arms shook. Albedo frowned. "You do. Why wouldn't you hate me?"

[falseblack]

Did he? Nigredo hadn't mulled over the fact too closely--regardless of past deeds--and now drugs made it difficult to care. He tipped his head as though to think it over, before shaking it slowly. He didn't need to answer this.

Instead, the boy drew closer to the other, stopping just at arm's length to kneel down. The change in height proved far more disorienting than usual, and for a second, his mind reeled and the rest of him slumped uncharacteristically on the grass. Nigredo blinked, then shrugged it off, too tired to properly correct his posture.

"You're my brother," he flatly stated. "I never hated you. Don't think like that again."

[purpletaint]

Some instinct made him lean forward at this, a tilting like the earth was on an incline instead of himself. His hand seemed not his own, and reached forward like the night before, to trace patterns in Nigredo's knee. Albedo seemed not to notice. The boy licked his lips nervously.

Never hated? Something rose in his stomach, too harsh for hope and too flighty for sick, and Albedo shuddered again, eyes unfocusing. Of course, Nigredo... If Nigredo didn't hate him, then why had he...? And why had...? His hand stopped moving, rested where it was. His eyes lowered, staring at something in the grass and dirt.

"If you never did..." he began, his voice something cracked and broken. "Then why do you stay so far away?" This question was clear, and Albedo didn't understand why at all. Was it something other than hate? A neutral detachment? That sounded more like the other. It wasn't that Nigredo hated, but Nigredo didn't careSomething small in him responded sadly, obediently. "Alright. I won't." Albedo swallowed, tears welling up again. "You don

[falseblack]

The increasing chill suddenly touched Nigredo's mood, and he drew his legs inward, away from the length of his brother's arm. A mixture of disbelief and hurt flickered over the child, who then looked away. Some part in that string of sentences had been received poorly.

"You don't want me around," came the answer. There was a brief pause. "Most of the time, anyway," he amended. Because the youngest was willing to give his elders a benefit of a doubt, in spite of suspicions (or the drugs) swimming in his head. A stark contrast from the albino, he was sure.

He carelessly waved a hand against his bangs, the agitation becoming more and more obvious. "I care. Just not in the way you want," said Nigredo.

[purpletaint]

He couldn't do this. Not like this. Not like this. His own panic was fighting the sedation, tearing at it futilely. There was something desperate in this situation, something--not like this. Not with Nigredo here. Albedo swallowed again, drawing his fists together to press against his eyes. He would find no stability in that. His thin control on himself had evaporated, leaving him open to whatever came.

And something in him realized this was dangerous.

"You don't want me around," he shot back panicked, repeating the words in a rush. The coherent part of him saw this as different from being sedated by Rubedo, there was something different-- He couldn't touch on it. It was too far. His fists pressed deeper into his eyes.

Albedo didn't respond to the other comment. Not in the way he wanted? He choked a sob out, swallowing the rest down. What was this? What was this? How had he got here? How had this happened? Why did--why did--why

[falseblack]

The lids over his eyes drooped a fraction of an inch, a slow, creeping guilt replacing the irritation that had risen. Albedo was crying--or was making a poor attempt not to--and Nigredo was more or less letting it transpire without an objection. Little brother was being unusually cruel, even if he was entirely justified to do so.

But pride, even coupled with dropped barriers, refused to let up so easily.

"Won't leave," murmured Nigredo, hand shuffling up against chin. "Where would I go anyway?" Rubedo was likely elsewhere (Where was he anyway?) while a drugged child could only go travel far. His place was here, with or without the other.

He paused then, his expression becoming distant. "Aren't you angry?" he questioned. "Why are you crying?"

[purpletaint]

"Away from me," was the quiet response. Because wasn't that so obvious? That anywhere would be preferable than next to Albedo? But the 'won't leave' made him swallow his next sob, consider what that meant. Nothing, of course. It meant nothing. Nothing. Nothing to read into, because he already knew this dance. These steps meant nothingNothing. And yet, Albedo had finally peered upward, hands dropping downward; glancing at Nigredo with something unreadable, something far too full. "Angry?" His lips shifted the word as if testing it out for the first time. The boy legitimately sounded confused

[falseblack]

Was that a hint? Nigredo couldn't tell. Too many layers of murk and contradictory signals between him and clarity, Albedo (again) being the source. He suspected not all of it was from the drugs

[purpletaint]

Nigredo's words were undefinable, an unidentifiable string of syllables strewn about haphazardly. He didn't care to read into it, didn't care to make sense of it. Nothing mattered. Nothing at all

[falseblack]

Fears were not absolved. What Nigredo hoped would be abandoned instead escalated, reminding both children of things he would rather leave forgotten. Because as much as the youngest wanted the contrary, the words he could offer were empty. There was, in the end, no comfort in death, and no amount of effort would prevent the events Albedo whispered or curb the desperation that came with the subject.

And whereas Nigredo accepted his own mortality with nothing more than quiet resignation, Albedo... The luxury did not exist for him. It was, indeed, useless.

Green eyes followed the path to where their hands met, and without meaning to, he leaned, brushing shoulder against shoulder. Like with most difficult things, the child resorted to the silence he knew so well. Dilemma only served to remind far more than either probably wished; his usual habit was wisdom in this case. Or so he hoped.

In place of an answer--and despite the awkwardness to the entire act--he wrapped his free hand around his brother's torso and held.