In retrospect, it wasn't like Juudai could have realistically expected it never to come up.
He'd woken up sometime during the night - not sure what time, it had to be late by how low in the western sky the waxing moon hung, fuzzy and yellowed through the thin misty haze that always permeated Mizusato. Its halo encircled the tips of the leaves of a nearby tree. Juudai'd stared out the window at it for a long time, just to watch it sink slowly beneath the reaching branches, half-bare and silhouetted against the sky like grabbing fingers.
Maybe he'd heard something. Maybe he sensed someone else being awake in the same house, at the same late hour - when everything is so quiet you can hear the rhythm of everyone's breathing. Maybe he just had an ear for brewing trouble. But when Juudai checked his Hitomi, out of nothing but habit, and saw a new dream posted to the network, he decided to walk outside before watching this one.
Maybe he knew.
The moon's long set by now. Juudai doesn't remember watching it set over the craggy cliffs. The sky seems slightly more blue than purple now. Maybe it's getting closer to dawn. He's lost track of time. He doesn't know how long he's been here, sitting near one of his better fishing holes, letting the roar of the waterfall drown out everything. Trying not to hear anything.
His hand is clenched so tightly around his Hitomi that his knuckles feel like they're bruising from the inner joint out.
{ Juudai, } Yubel says, and Juudai can see her like an afterimage in front of his eyes, sitting crosslegged a few feet away, facing him, mirroring his posture. { You have to let go. }
He shakes his head, wraps his arms around his ribs, shivers deeply. The weather is turning and the spray from the waterfall makes the air cold here.
{ It's over. }
He shakes his head again, more forcefully.
Yubel sighs. { I know. } She reaches out, cups Juudai's cheek in her hand. { I know. }
And Yubel does know, because Yubel lives in his head, and shares space with these things; can feel Juudai's turmoil as acutely as her own. She knows, for example, that right now, he's fighting these memories as hard as he can, twisting in their grasp, a whole-body hold so tight he can't move for fear of falling back into them. Those kinds of memories have power. They can paralyze with a look.
Juudai doesn't want to remember that time. He doesn't think about it if he can avoid it. If he lets himself remember, he might lose himself again. It's irrational. He's aware it is irrational. But that's the way it is.
Maybe that's selfish. Actually, yeah, it probably is. Because as much as Juudai cannot bear to remember that time, what was done, what he did - he's not the victim.
He wasn't the one who lost his life for a friend.
To a friend.
Finally, Juudai speaks, for the first time since he went to bed the previous night. "Johan'll hate me," he says, quietly, drawing his knees up to his forehead. The waterfall roars.
{ He won't, } Yubel says, gently, even through an expression that suggests she hates admitting it.
Juudai rests his head against his knees for a little while longer.
"He should," he whispers.
Yubel has no response, except to draw her wings closer to herself, and to look down.
"I should..."
Juudai looks down at the Hitomi in his hand, finally loosens his grip enough to drop it into his lap. His hand trembles, tiny aftershocks. "I should..." But he doesn't know. What can he say? What should he say?
[ Jim can’t breathe. Can’t speak or even think; all function is gone. Judai’s broken whisper has shattered him.
All the pressure of bearing that dream, of re-living those days, of explaining and explaining everything he wished he didn’t even know; all those thoughts, all the scars that have burned across his skin, in his mind: It breaks inside him, shards of pure ice stabbing him. It cuts him open, prepared to tell the world of all he wants to hide, all he feels he needs to hide.
…He’s broken.
He looks away from the Hitomi, looking around his room through a single eye, blurred with an unshed tear, but he won’t cry. He refuses to. If he does, he won’t be able to stop, and that fact alone scares him to the core.
His body is trembling, he’s shaking, and tremors of pure pain rack his being as that one sentence, those two words filled with hidden pain and sorrow, rings through his head:
'I’m sorry.'
He pulls on leg to his chest, resting his elbow on his knee and his forehead on his arm. Just like that, that simple action makes him grit his teeth, mashing them together as he hears his jaw crack under the pressure.
He wants to hide, to run away from this, to find a way not to face this issue. He’s selfish for wanting that. He was always a bigger man than that, strong and calm, able to make the most of any situation. What happened to the calm man inside, the one with the right thing to say, to do?
Did his death really scar him more than he noticed?
Deep down, the feeling to run has rooted itself, making Jim into a coward’s shadow, changing him into everything he’s not.
He wants to run away.
But…he can’t. One universal fact is holding him to this, to make sure he won’t run, so he can’t escape:
Judai’s hurt. ]
[ The walls of rich brown wood, floors of thick straw mats…everything is a blur.
Karen rests as Jim’s side, alert and saddened, knowing full well in her own way what has happened, what is currently happening. She growls to him, nudging his leg with her snout. Jim, in reply, sends her a smile, weak and hidden.
It’s fake. ]
“…Karen -“
[ A snap is heard, loud in the still air. It echoes, almost like a heartbeat in a silent room, and Jim frowns, but understands. She isn’t going to believe anything but the truth from him, especially from him. She won’t accept it.
She won’t let him accept anything less either.
Another breath is taken, slightly less shaky, and the tremors seem to lessen. He’s still in pain, he still is afraid, but he needs to try to fix this. He dreamed it again, he brought the pain to the surface, just like digging for a fossil and breaking it while excavating too hard in the dirt.
In his mind, in a fleeting whisper, he hears something. As the words breathe into his mind, his bandaged eye pulses not in pain, but almost as if it is calling Jim, telling him that now, he has a chance.
He didn’t save Judai that one time. It took so much more, at the risk of other lives, to free him.
Now will he be able to save his friend? ]
“I…need to talk to Judai.” [ But what is he able to say? What should he say?
What words can he say that will save him and Judai? ]
[Audio/Private]eyeofamiracleOctober 7 2011, 00:40:29 UTC
[ He clicks the line on, and lets out one shaky breath. He raises his head from his arm, and rubs his palm over his face, hiding the dampness of his visible eye.
No matter what, he can’t stay away from this. He swallows, and imprints that thought on his mind. He can’t abandon Judai.
He knows he never will. ]
…Judai. [ A whisper, soft, unsure if it should grow louder.
He can’t find what to say, and he freezes up. However, he refuses to be weak in front of him, so he steels his gaze and swallows. ]
[Audio/Private]sternitfortemOctober 7 2011, 01:58:32 UTC
Why...?
[ Jim would, of course. He was the one who refused to give up on Juudai in the first place. Why would he -
Because he's Juudai's friend, of course, and that's what friends do - and this thought sends a fresh wave of tremors through Juudai's already-trembling body. Right now, he can't handle a burden as heavy as forgiveness. It could break his back with the weight. ]
I don't - [ He stops, wets his lips, bites his lower lip and stares up into the sky. The stars are fading slowly; dawn's still a couple hours away. ]
[Audio/Private]eyeofamiracleOctober 8 2011, 01:59:48 UTC
[ Jim can see it clearly, even with one eye covered and sealed away. He sees the tremors, he notices the nervous, awkward movements. He takes in the utter pain etched on Judai's face.
Judai can't take this.
But even so, Jim needs to tell him what he feels, how he feels. He can't give up on Judai. ]
To you...it's natural you feel that way. But I'm not you, Judai, so... [ He has to be honest, be blunt, or else he can't say this any other way. ] I can forgive you.
[ He sends a look out beyond his window, watching the sky lighten with the birth of dawn. He lets out a shuddering breath as he watches the light. It's ironic, as if this world is trying to bring forth a new beginning, a clean slate.
Now, it's impossible. It won't happen. It simply can't.
He doesn't know when everything will be okay, or if it ever will. In a way, he's almost afraid to know.
Judai can't accept this now; Jim can see that. He can see the pain and somewhat grasp the boy's turbulent mind, the raging emotions, the utter remains of hell resting on his soul. It would only hurt him worse, it would only scar him more.
For Jim, if he can being to accept this and say what he needs to, it won't cleanse him.
[Audio/Private]sternitfortemOctober 8 2011, 03:04:31 UTC
[ Juudai exhales shakily. The sky is brightening slowly along the horizon. Dawn's one... no, a half hour away. Maybe. Time moves strangely in Kannagara, sometimes in fits and starts.
It's not that he wants to hurt his friends. Quite the opposite. If he could get away with never doing that again, he'd be happy. It's just that -
For a few moments, Juudai decides not to think. Just to sit here and take in his surroundings. The birds are waking up and beginning to sing to welcome the dawn. The sky has lightened to pink along the eastern horizon. Yubel holds him steady within his own mind, her presence anchoring him to something.
Jim wants closure. That makes sense. Juudai doesn't want to deny it to him. It's just -
He knows -
It's not his decision, in the end. He can choose to ask - or not ask - forgiveness. And Jim can choose to extend it, or not.
And if this is what Jim needs... ]
Okay.
Okay. [ It sounds like it takes everything Juudai has just to say this. He's not sure what it means. It just seems like the right thing to say, right now. ]
[Audio/Private (Only Until the End]eyeofamiracleOctober 8 2011, 03:59:20 UTC
[ A single breath, one that was being held unintentionally, slips out. And while relief spills out after hearing that single word being spoken, Jim can see it all too clearly. Judai’s forcing himself to do this, to say that everything could be okay, that Jim can have the closure he craves not for himself but for Judai too; it’s wrong because Judai will never forgive himself.
It’s selfish, it’s harmful and simply awful, but this one fact hurts Jim more than anything else that had happened then ever did. ]
Judai.
[He won’t speak anymore. He’s caused so much damage since he’s arrived here. All he has done is bring back memories of death, of hell, of everything no one needed to know or be remembered about. He’s hurt his friends by re-living this experience. He’s broken the trust between others, he’s created crevices in friendships, and he’s opened up old scars.
The man who believed he had the power to save is now creating destruction. ]
[ He’s shaking, but he contains what he will do for Judai’s sake. ] Go and find some place alone, or where you can find a semblance of relaxation now. Don’t forgive yourself if you don’t need to. Do what you need to, Judai. [ It’s a dismissal for them to leave one another, almost like an order, and it makes Jim sick that he even has the audacity to order Judai around. ]
[ Under his breath, he lets out a shudder sigh. ] …I’m sorry, Judai. [ A swallow, a sigh, and a ghosting of fingers of bandages as he finishes speaking. Jim clicks a button on the Hitomi. It wasn’t the button to turn it off like he had hoped. No, it was another button.
He made this audible to everyone. ]
I’m sorry, Judai…everyone.
[ He looks out at the breaking of dawn spilling outside of his window. He feels his insides sinking, his mind cracking and body aching. He has hurt more than he has helped. Everything that has happened is piling on him now. All the explanations, all the hints of doubt he has noticed in himself, everything he has said and defended for Judai’s sake.
Everything now has a larger chance of breaking to the point of no repair.
[Audio/re-privated]sternitfortemOctober 9 2011, 20:20:32 UTC
Jim.
[ It's amazing how calm he sounds right now. ]
It's not your fault.
[ Too much of this, and Juudai's reached the dumping point; he's not processing this anymore, not looking at it directly. He's let himself go cool (not cold, that would be too much), let himself not hold onto this right now.
He's speaking quietly, slowly: ]
I probably won't be around today. Maybe I'll be back by tonight. I don't want to worry anyone.
[ Pause, then: ]
Take care of yourself, okay? Try and get some rest.
Re: [Audio/re-privated]eyeofamiracleOctober 9 2011, 20:43:53 UTC
[ Jim won't believe Judai's words about whose fault it is. He doesn't need an altercation, and his mind can't handle any more challenges against what Jim can force himself to believe right now. ]
I'll tell something to the others so they won't worry.
[ It's the least he can do, Jim tells himself. With a sigh, he calms his voice, he lets out a hoarse cough to clear the pain away. It doesn't help. ]
In retrospect, it wasn't like Juudai could have realistically expected it never to come up.
He'd woken up sometime during the night - not sure what time, it had to be late by how low in the western sky the waxing moon hung, fuzzy and yellowed through the thin misty haze that always permeated Mizusato. Its halo encircled the tips of the leaves of a nearby tree. Juudai'd stared out the window at it for a long time, just to watch it sink slowly beneath the reaching branches, half-bare and silhouetted against the sky like grabbing fingers.
Maybe he'd heard something. Maybe he sensed someone else being awake in the same house, at the same late hour - when everything is so quiet you can hear the rhythm of everyone's breathing. Maybe he just had an ear for brewing trouble. But when Juudai checked his Hitomi, out of nothing but habit, and saw a new dream posted to the network, he decided to walk outside before watching this one.
Maybe he knew.
The moon's long set by now. Juudai doesn't remember watching it set over the craggy cliffs. The sky seems slightly more blue than purple now. Maybe it's getting closer to dawn. He's lost track of time. He doesn't know how long he's been here, sitting near one of his better fishing holes, letting the roar of the waterfall drown out everything. Trying not to hear anything.
His hand is clenched so tightly around his Hitomi that his knuckles feel like they're bruising from the inner joint out.
{ Juudai, } Yubel says, and Juudai can see her like an afterimage in front of his eyes, sitting crosslegged a few feet away, facing him, mirroring his posture. { You have to let go. }
He shakes his head, wraps his arms around his ribs, shivers deeply. The weather is turning and the spray from the waterfall makes the air cold here.
{ It's over. }
He shakes his head again, more forcefully.
Yubel sighs. { I know. } She reaches out, cups Juudai's cheek in her hand. { I know. }
And Yubel does know, because Yubel lives in his head, and shares space with these things; can feel Juudai's turmoil as acutely as her own. She knows, for example, that right now, he's fighting these memories as hard as he can, twisting in their grasp, a whole-body hold so tight he can't move for fear of falling back into them. Those kinds of memories have power. They can paralyze with a look.
Juudai doesn't want to remember that time. He doesn't think about it if he can avoid it. If he lets himself remember, he might lose himself again. It's irrational. He's aware it is irrational. But that's the way it is.
Maybe that's selfish. Actually, yeah, it probably is. Because as much as Juudai cannot bear to remember that time, what was done, what he did - he's not the victim.
He wasn't the one who lost his life for a friend.
To a friend.
Finally, Juudai speaks, for the first time since he went to bed the previous night. "Johan'll hate me," he says, quietly, drawing his knees up to his forehead. The waterfall roars.
{ He won't, } Yubel says, gently, even through an expression that suggests she hates admitting it.
Juudai rests his head against his knees for a little while longer.
"He should," he whispers.
Yubel has no response, except to draw her wings closer to herself, and to look down.
"I should..."
Juudai looks down at the Hitomi in his hand, finally loosens his grip enough to drop it into his lap. His hand trembles, tiny aftershocks. "I should..." But he doesn't know. What can he say? What should he say?
What is there to be said? ]
Reply
For a long time, maybe a full sixty seconds, nothing can be heard but the rushing of a waterfall, roaring mindlessly into the empty air.
Sharp ears might catch breathing on the line, as well, harsh, ragged, as if the sender had just finished running, and running, and running.
Finally:
A whisper. ]
Jim, I...
[ Then, all at once, in an expulsion of breath that is half a sentence and half a sob: ]
I'm sorry.
Reply
All the pressure of bearing that dream, of re-living those days, of explaining and explaining everything he wished he didn’t even know; all those thoughts, all the scars that have burned across his skin, in his mind: It breaks inside him, shards of pure ice stabbing him. It cuts him open, prepared to tell the world of all he wants to hide, all he feels he needs to hide.
…He’s broken.
He looks away from the Hitomi, looking around his room through a single eye, blurred with an unshed tear, but he won’t cry. He refuses to. If he does, he won’t be able to stop, and that fact alone scares him to the core.
His body is trembling, he’s shaking, and tremors of pure pain rack his being as that one sentence, those two words filled with hidden pain and sorrow, rings through his head:
'I’m sorry.'
He pulls on leg to his chest, resting his elbow on his knee and his forehead on his arm. Just like that, that simple action makes him grit his teeth, mashing them together as he hears his jaw crack under the pressure.
He wants to hide, to run away from this, to find a way not to face this issue. He’s selfish for wanting that. He was always a bigger man than that, strong and calm, able to make the most of any situation. What happened to the calm man inside, the one with the right thing to say, to do?
Did his death really scar him more than he noticed?
Deep down, the feeling to run has rooted itself, making Jim into a coward’s shadow, changing him into everything he’s not.
He wants to run away.
But…he can’t. One universal fact is holding him to this, to make sure he won’t run, so he can’t escape:
Judai’s hurt. ]
[ The walls of rich brown wood, floors of thick straw mats…everything is a blur.
Karen rests as Jim’s side, alert and saddened, knowing full well in her own way what has happened, what is currently happening. She growls to him, nudging his leg with her snout. Jim, in reply, sends her a smile, weak and hidden.
It’s fake. ]
“…Karen -“
[ A snap is heard, loud in the still air. It echoes, almost like a heartbeat in a silent room, and Jim frowns, but understands. She isn’t going to believe anything but the truth from him, especially from him. She won’t accept it.
She won’t let him accept anything less either.
Another breath is taken, slightly less shaky, and the tremors seem to lessen. He’s still in pain, he still is afraid, but he needs to try to fix this. He dreamed it again, he brought the pain to the surface, just like digging for a fossil and breaking it while excavating too hard in the dirt.
In his mind, in a fleeting whisper, he hears something. As the words breathe into his mind, his bandaged eye pulses not in pain, but almost as if it is calling Jim, telling him that now, he has a chance.
He didn’t save Judai that one time. It took so much more, at the risk of other lives, to free him.
Now will he be able to save his friend? ]
“I…need to talk to Judai.” [ But what is he able to say? What should he say?
What words can he say that will save him and Judai? ]
Reply
No matter what, he can’t stay away from this. He swallows, and imprints that thought on his mind. He can’t abandon Judai.
He knows he never will. ]
…Judai. [ A whisper, soft, unsure if it should grow louder.
He can’t find what to say, and he freezes up. However, he refuses to be weak in front of him, so he steels his gaze and swallows. ]
I…know.
[ Here goes everything. ]
...I...forgive you, Judai.
Reply
[ Jim would, of course. He was the one who refused to give up on Juudai in the first place. Why would he -
Because he's Juudai's friend, of course, and that's what friends do - and this thought sends a fresh wave of tremors through Juudai's already-trembling body. Right now, he can't handle a burden as heavy as forgiveness. It could break his back with the weight. ]
I don't - [ He stops, wets his lips, bites his lower lip and stares up into the sky. The stars are fading slowly; dawn's still a couple hours away. ]
I don't deserve it.
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Judai can't take this.
But even so, Jim needs to tell him what he feels, how he feels. He can't give up on Judai. ]
To you...it's natural you feel that way. But I'm not you, Judai, so... [ He has to be honest, be blunt, or else he can't say this any other way. ] I can forgive you.
[ He sends a look out beyond his window, watching the sky lighten with the birth of dawn. He lets out a shuddering breath as he watches the light. It's ironic, as if this world is trying to bring forth a new beginning, a clean slate.
Now, it's impossible. It won't happen. It simply can't.
He doesn't know when everything will be okay, or if it ever will. In a way, he's almost afraid to know.
Judai can't accept this now; Jim can see that. He can see the pain and somewhat grasp the boy's turbulent mind, the raging emotions, the utter remains of hell resting on his soul. It would only hurt him worse, it would only scar him more.
For Jim, if he can being to accept this and say what he needs to, it won't cleanse him.
But it'll be a start. ]
I want to forgive you.
Reply
It's not that he wants to hurt his friends. Quite the opposite. If he could get away with never doing that again, he'd be happy. It's just that -
For a few moments, Juudai decides not to think. Just to sit here and take in his surroundings. The birds are waking up and beginning to sing to welcome the dawn. The sky has lightened to pink along the eastern horizon. Yubel holds him steady within his own mind, her presence anchoring him to something.
Jim wants closure. That makes sense. Juudai doesn't want to deny it to him. It's just -
He knows -
It's not his decision, in the end. He can choose to ask - or not ask - forgiveness. And Jim can choose to extend it, or not.
And if this is what Jim needs... ]
Okay.
Okay. [ It sounds like it takes everything Juudai has just to say this. He's not sure what it means. It just seems like the right thing to say, right now. ]
Reply
It’s selfish, it’s harmful and simply awful, but this one fact hurts Jim more than anything else that had happened then ever did. ]
Judai.
[He won’t speak anymore. He’s caused so much damage since he’s arrived here. All he has done is bring back memories of death, of hell, of everything no one needed to know or be remembered about. He’s hurt his friends by re-living this experience. He’s broken the trust between others, he’s created crevices in friendships, and he’s opened up old scars.
The man who believed he had the power to save is now creating destruction. ]
[ He’s shaking, but he contains what he will do for Judai’s sake. ] Go and find some place alone, or where you can find a semblance of relaxation now. Don’t forgive yourself if you don’t need to. Do what you need to, Judai. [ It’s a dismissal for them to leave one another, almost like an order, and it makes Jim sick that he even has the audacity to order Judai around. ]
[ Under his breath, he lets out a shudder sigh. ] …I’m sorry, Judai. [ A swallow, a sigh, and a ghosting of fingers of bandages as he finishes speaking. Jim clicks a button on the Hitomi. It wasn’t the button to turn it off like he had hoped. No, it was another button.
He made this audible to everyone. ]
I’m sorry, Judai…everyone.
[ He looks out at the breaking of dawn spilling outside of his window. He feels his insides sinking, his mind cracking and body aching. He has hurt more than he has helped. Everything that has happened is piling on him now. All the explanations, all the hints of doubt he has noticed in himself, everything he has said and defended for Judai’s sake.
Everything now has a larger chance of breaking to the point of no repair.
All because of him.
Jim screamed. ]
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[ It's amazing how calm he sounds right now. ]
It's not your fault.
[ Too much of this, and Juudai's reached the dumping point; he's not processing this anymore, not looking at it directly. He's let himself go cool (not cold, that would be too much), let himself not hold onto this right now.
He's speaking quietly, slowly: ]
I probably won't be around today. Maybe I'll be back by tonight. I don't want to worry anyone.
[ Pause, then: ]
Take care of yourself, okay? Try and get some rest.
Reply
I'll tell something to the others so they won't worry.
[ It's the least he can do, Jim tells himself. With a sigh, he calms his voice, he lets out a hoarse cough to clear the pain away. It doesn't help. ]
I'll...go see if I can explore the village today.
[ A pause, then: ]
...Thank you, Judai. Get some rest yourself.
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