[THREAD] even though it hurts
Who: Uchiha Itachi [ pogromanate ] & Kazama Souji [ sagittariinae ]
Where: Itachi's Estate, Elysium
When: Early evening
Summary: I didn't know if I could face you and the truth.
Rating: PG-13
How does one even make the statement, "I've returned from death?"
It was a grim thought, and it sat heavy in his chest as Kazama trode through the streets, head bowed and hands in pockets -- it felt almost strange, to be acting so close-to-normal, as if he were in denial that anything had ever happened. (He'd already accepted it, though, knew it was true. While still in the Liebert manor, he'd taken his old clothes -- crusted over and leathery from blood -- and noted all the rips and tears. Counted the rip-tears numbering a dozen, two-dozen -- had acknowledged that his final cause of death must have been hemothorax or massive blood loss. The final stab through the chest must have been what killed him -- and with his own blade, no less. He'd also gotten back his weapon, the military knife, still splattered with blood, his own. He'd left the unsavory souvenir back in his apartment, not yet willing to see if he could extract his killer identity from it.)
The walk to the estate wasn't far, but Kazama went slowly, trying to organize tangled thoughts as he went. If Yosuke knew of his death, then Itachi also most likely knew -- had Itachi made an attempt in the auction? Kazama had later looked up his auction's records -- ten million, a hefty sum -- and had wondered, grimly, if Itachi had participated. It was an ugly thought, and he tried to shake it off, instead mulling over what to say, when he came face-to-face with this man he'd tried so hard to hide his weaknesses from -- but in the end, he came up with nothing. His expression remained set and impassive, lined only with the faintest hints of hesitation as he stood before the entrance to the estate -- and a hand rose to knock on the gates, pausing for a moment -- hovering uneasily in the air -- before rapping at the surface once, twice. Waiting for a response.
Where: Itachi's Estate, Elysium
When: Early evening
Summary: I didn't know if I could face you and the truth.
Rating: PG-13
How does one even make the statement, "I've returned from death?"
It was a grim thought, and it sat heavy in his chest as Kazama trode through the streets, head bowed and hands in pockets -- it felt almost strange, to be acting so close-to-normal, as if he were in denial that anything had ever happened. (He'd already accepted it, though, knew it was true. While still in the Liebert manor, he'd taken his old clothes -- crusted over and leathery from blood -- and noted all the rips and tears. Counted the rip-tears numbering a dozen, two-dozen -- had acknowledged that his final cause of death must have been hemothorax or massive blood loss. The final stab through the chest must have been what killed him -- and with his own blade, no less. He'd also gotten back his weapon, the military knife, still splattered with blood, his own. He'd left the unsavory souvenir back in his apartment, not yet willing to see if he could extract his killer identity from it.)
The walk to the estate wasn't far, but Kazama went slowly, trying to organize tangled thoughts as he went. If Yosuke knew of his death, then Itachi also most likely knew -- had Itachi made an attempt in the auction? Kazama had later looked up his auction's records -- ten million, a hefty sum -- and had wondered, grimly, if Itachi had participated. It was an ugly thought, and he tried to shake it off, instead mulling over what to say, when he came face-to-face with this man he'd tried so hard to hide his weaknesses from -- but in the end, he came up with nothing. His expression remained set and impassive, lined only with the faintest hints of hesitation as he stood before the entrance to the estate -- and a hand rose to knock on the gates, pausing for a moment -- hovering uneasily in the air -- before rapping at the surface once, twice. Waiting for a response.