OOC - Memory 1
[ooc: From here to page 135, not counting Subaru's appearance and Kotori's dream, of course. Senses are Sound and Touch]
He was wrapped in too-big clothing- they were very obviously not his. And yet they were fitted snugly around him, sleeves rolled up, and that was perhaps a belt holding the jeans up. They felt... familiar.
He sat on a couch, it seemed, and even though it was soft and comfortable, he felt awkward, and very uncomfortable. He could feel his heart hammering in his chest, and his breath struggling to stay on a steady rhythm. His hands were clasped, and possibly even sweating. He was just so high-strung that he nearly jumped out of his seat when a door nearby creaked open and light footsteps made their way towards him.
"How's ▒▒▒▒▒▒?" he asked, voice soft and very obviously concerned.
"She's all right. She took some medication and is sleeping in her room. She isn't hurt, so there's nothing to worry about," came the reply. He knew that voice very well, trusted it so much, that his anxiety dulled somewhat. But the boy's next words caused him to flinch a little. "But talk to me. Why did you disappear from ▒▒▒▒▒ without saying a word six years ago?"
Stigmata remained silent, even as a faint creaking sound signified that the other boy had sat down as well. He didn't reply. He didn't want to. He just kept his lips pursed shut.
"▒▒▒▒▒... You don't want to tell me?"
Hearing that slightly pained tone made his heart skip a beat, but he kept his silence. But it seemed his companion didn't want to give up.
"▒▒▒▒▒ , do you remember? When we were playing here at ▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒ Shrine... You suddenly said that you were going to be ▒▒▒▒▒▒'s bride? You promised me then that you would never make ▒▒▒▒▒▒ cry. Do you remember what I promised you then?"
Still he remained silent, but the slight wringing of his hands showed that he still did remember.
"I will protect you."
Stigmata rose would a word, slamming his hands on what seemed to be a wooden table as he did so. It was obvious he was moving to leave, but a hand on his arm pulled him forward, till he was pressed against another, stronger body, and arms wrapped around him in an embrace.
"I want to keep my promise."
It was warm and inviting, this embrace. He wanted very much to stay here, return it, and just give in. His body was just... calmed by this presence alone. He moved very slightly forward, pressing against the other body, arms raising as if to return that hug. But he stopped himself almost immediately, pushing himself away. The other kept a hand on his arm, but Stigmata made no move to brush it away.
"You cant trust me? Am I not reliable enough for you?"
"No," came Stigmata's voice at last. "It's not that..."
"... Cant I do anything?" the other asked again, voice full of concern and hurt.
"NO!! It's not that..." Even to Stigmata's own ears, his voice was shaky in that yell. It was almost half-hearted. His anxiety returned. His knees grew weak, and he fell back, down onto the seat, hearing it creak underneath his wake. He suddenly felt extremely tired. "I don't want you to get involved... ▒▒▒▒▒▒ or you, ▒▒▒▒▒. I don't want to get you into what's going to be happening around me in the near future. I want you guys to be happy all the time. I want everyone in the ▒▒▒▒▒ Family to always be happy...
"But as soon as I returned, Uncle..." He paused, raising a hand to his face, to keep himself from shaking. He really felt terrible. Guilt, sadness, concern, guilt, and more guilt. He did very much feel like crying, but forced himself not to do so, keep it all in, even if it hurt more.
A hand suddenly held his chin. It was large enough to clasp the whole lower part of his face, and tilt him up. "▒▒▒▒▒...?"
"'▒▒▒▒▒▒'," came the other's voice again. But this time there was no hesitation, not even a trace of the previous emotions he had heard. "Two 'destinies' that overlap each other- I was born for your sake."
The other hand rested on his thigh- he could feel its firm yet almost gentle pressure- as one of the fingers around his face circled his lips, coming to a rest just underneath, before the whole hand moved to cup the side of his face. His heart jumped, and he attempted to press back and away, but there was nowhere else to go. He was stuck between the back of the seat and the other boy.
"I am your..."
He could very well feel what was in front of him. Body heat. Body heat that was gradually coming closer and closer, till he could actually feel the breath on his face.
Stigmata jerked, and slowly became conscious of a gentle pressure on his foot, and loud mewling from below. He shook his head, and looked down at Subaru. The cat was looking at him with something akin to concern and wonder. He had never known that animals could show such things, but...
Nevertheless he bent down to pick the small thing up into his arms, and, over the soft, contented purring, thought back to what he had just experienced.
He had not been able to see what was going on, that was for sure. But... he could feel and hear- that was enough for him to know what exactly was happening in that memory. Yes, he was very sure it was a memory.
He did not hear names though- which was a very big shame. But he knew that voice very well- softer, kinder, but it was unmistakable. It was him, the "angel" from his dream. And with the way the conversation had been going... they were friends. Perhaps even closer than friends. And maybe even closer than that.
Just thinking of it made him unexplainably embarrassed. Even if the memory ended as abruptly as it did, he knew what would have happened if it continued. It was obvious, and he could not deny that fact. He was...
And yet he said he had promised someone, a girl, that he would get married with her, wouldn't he? He was a child then, and in that memory, he was roughly the same as he was now. Maybe something had changed...
... Speaking of changes, since when had his room become smaller? That was strange. Oh well. Maybe he just had a sudden growth spurt or something to that effect.
He moved for his bed, and that's when he saw it. Reflected in a piece of metal he had found in the scrap yard was the face of the "angel" himself, staring right at him with the same shocked expression on his face.
It didn't take long for him to realize what was going on.
"... Oh god."
He was wrapped in too-big clothing- they were very obviously not his. And yet they were fitted snugly around him, sleeves rolled up, and that was perhaps a belt holding the jeans up. They felt... familiar.
He sat on a couch, it seemed, and even though it was soft and comfortable, he felt awkward, and very uncomfortable. He could feel his heart hammering in his chest, and his breath struggling to stay on a steady rhythm. His hands were clasped, and possibly even sweating. He was just so high-strung that he nearly jumped out of his seat when a door nearby creaked open and light footsteps made their way towards him.
"How's ▒▒▒▒▒▒?" he asked, voice soft and very obviously concerned.
"She's all right. She took some medication and is sleeping in her room. She isn't hurt, so there's nothing to worry about," came the reply. He knew that voice very well, trusted it so much, that his anxiety dulled somewhat. But the boy's next words caused him to flinch a little. "But talk to me. Why did you disappear from ▒▒▒▒▒ without saying a word six years ago?"
Stigmata remained silent, even as a faint creaking sound signified that the other boy had sat down as well. He didn't reply. He didn't want to. He just kept his lips pursed shut.
"▒▒▒▒▒... You don't want to tell me?"
Hearing that slightly pained tone made his heart skip a beat, but he kept his silence. But it seemed his companion didn't want to give up.
"▒▒▒▒▒ , do you remember? When we were playing here at ▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒ Shrine... You suddenly said that you were going to be ▒▒▒▒▒▒'s bride? You promised me then that you would never make ▒▒▒▒▒▒ cry. Do you remember what I promised you then?"
Still he remained silent, but the slight wringing of his hands showed that he still did remember.
"I will protect you."
Stigmata rose would a word, slamming his hands on what seemed to be a wooden table as he did so. It was obvious he was moving to leave, but a hand on his arm pulled him forward, till he was pressed against another, stronger body, and arms wrapped around him in an embrace.
"I want to keep my promise."
It was warm and inviting, this embrace. He wanted very much to stay here, return it, and just give in. His body was just... calmed by this presence alone. He moved very slightly forward, pressing against the other body, arms raising as if to return that hug. But he stopped himself almost immediately, pushing himself away. The other kept a hand on his arm, but Stigmata made no move to brush it away.
"You cant trust me? Am I not reliable enough for you?"
"No," came Stigmata's voice at last. "It's not that..."
"... Cant I do anything?" the other asked again, voice full of concern and hurt.
"NO!! It's not that..." Even to Stigmata's own ears, his voice was shaky in that yell. It was almost half-hearted. His anxiety returned. His knees grew weak, and he fell back, down onto the seat, hearing it creak underneath his wake. He suddenly felt extremely tired. "I don't want you to get involved... ▒▒▒▒▒▒ or you, ▒▒▒▒▒. I don't want to get you into what's going to be happening around me in the near future. I want you guys to be happy all the time. I want everyone in the ▒▒▒▒▒ Family to always be happy...
"But as soon as I returned, Uncle..." He paused, raising a hand to his face, to keep himself from shaking. He really felt terrible. Guilt, sadness, concern, guilt, and more guilt. He did very much feel like crying, but forced himself not to do so, keep it all in, even if it hurt more.
A hand suddenly held his chin. It was large enough to clasp the whole lower part of his face, and tilt him up. "▒▒▒▒▒...?"
"'▒▒▒▒▒▒'," came the other's voice again. But this time there was no hesitation, not even a trace of the previous emotions he had heard. "Two 'destinies' that overlap each other- I was born for your sake."
The other hand rested on his thigh- he could feel its firm yet almost gentle pressure- as one of the fingers around his face circled his lips, coming to a rest just underneath, before the whole hand moved to cup the side of his face. His heart jumped, and he attempted to press back and away, but there was nowhere else to go. He was stuck between the back of the seat and the other boy.
"I am your..."
He could very well feel what was in front of him. Body heat. Body heat that was gradually coming closer and closer, till he could actually feel the breath on his face.
Stigmata jerked, and slowly became conscious of a gentle pressure on his foot, and loud mewling from below. He shook his head, and looked down at Subaru. The cat was looking at him with something akin to concern and wonder. He had never known that animals could show such things, but...
Nevertheless he bent down to pick the small thing up into his arms, and, over the soft, contented purring, thought back to what he had just experienced.
He had not been able to see what was going on, that was for sure. But... he could feel and hear- that was enough for him to know what exactly was happening in that memory. Yes, he was very sure it was a memory.
He did not hear names though- which was a very big shame. But he knew that voice very well- softer, kinder, but it was unmistakable. It was him, the "angel" from his dream. And with the way the conversation had been going... they were friends. Perhaps even closer than friends. And maybe even closer than that.
Just thinking of it made him unexplainably embarrassed. Even if the memory ended as abruptly as it did, he knew what would have happened if it continued. It was obvious, and he could not deny that fact. He was...
And yet he said he had promised someone, a girl, that he would get married with her, wouldn't he? He was a child then, and in that memory, he was roughly the same as he was now. Maybe something had changed...
... Speaking of changes, since when had his room become smaller? That was strange. Oh well. Maybe he just had a sudden growth spurt or something to that effect.
He moved for his bed, and that's when he saw it. Reflected in a piece of metal he had found in the scrap yard was the face of the "angel" himself, staring right at him with the same shocked expression on his face.
It didn't take long for him to realize what was going on.
"... Oh god."