[ he can't tell if it's supposed to be scientific or if it's just stupid. it just sounds so stupid. if he came out every time mikoto sneezed? that's just insane. ]
[it's dangan logic. it is stupid. Also be so grateful the air is moist from the sea and not dry here, her nose hasn't been so sensitive for it.]
It was given to me just for that. I needed s-something reliable to control when she comes and goes. If I couldn't m-make her useful, they probably would have imprisoned me.
[Or executed her. Naegi would have fought the verdict, but she's much less certain about the rest.
[ he frowns slightly, at the object in his hand, but he still doesn't lower it. the more he hears the more he's leaning towards both fjord and fukawa just fucking with him, fjord's suggestion won't do shit ]
Whatever. "I" don't care about your past. "I" need to know what happens now. When she's out, how can you have control enough to send her away?
[ she can taser herself into letting syo free, but then what? a psychopath like that would just keep on being, he thinks, and never want to go back to being a normal girl. ]
She withers some, looking away from him for the first time. That oppressive blanket coils around her coldly. Comfortingly. Just wipe it all out. What's the point in caring what he thinks anymore? You're a monster. He's only half of one, killer in self defense.]
The taser only let her out for a short while. Here, y-you'd have to knock me out, or make me sneeze. Electrocute me I guess, someone's b-bound to have a bullshit spell like that on hand.
[Her lips twitch.]
Just send me back to the antenna if you don't believe me. It's n-not like it'll matter.
[ his arm lowers slightly, when she looks away. but only because he's getting tired, he tells himself. tired of all this bullshit. a taser that triggers the switch but for a limited time only? bullshit. ]
You're right. It's pointless, killing you, because you'd just wake up as Syo, wouldn't you?
[ if fainting can trigger it, why not death? actually, why not sleep...? it doesn't make sense, but he has to figure it out. ]
[maybe he just missed the final act. She wasn't there to see any of it. All she knows is what she woke up to.]
I don't — wh-why would you say something like that? I'm the one who — y-y-you can't split us up any easier than we could split you and him up! And you h-hate my guts, so why...
[ did he? kill syo? hell yeah, he congratulates himself belatedly because he didn't actually know if he managed, if only he had held on for a little longer. it would have been nice to see her on the ground, go to town on her face with his bat.
but he looks at fukawa's face, the girl standing in front of him looking like she's about to cry and he doesn't feel that same violence. they're just too different. too easy to pretend they're two different people.
is that not the same for him and mikoto? ]
Listen— shut up and listen to me. [ look at him. don't you dare cry. ] "I" will disappear once "I" know he is safe. That is "my" decision. And for you and Syo? Will you live like that forever?
[ is this the one time dangan is realistic about this ]
[She sneers, as if to spit something back, her latent ire bubbling up (you don't get to tell me to shut up), but what he says next drops the bottom out of her gut.
He'll...go.
He'll go?
Fukawa blinks, mind racing and throat gone arid. Is he just full of it, or is he being sincere? And what would he even consider safe, when he was popping out at the slightest provocation? When Mikoto was at risk every time something upsetting happened, he was so damn sensitive to it all. How could such a thing even be possible? She'd read all about it, this little condition of theirs, and found too many exceptions to the rules to play by. And how the hell could she ask for help for it? There was no where to turn to.
Except...
...]
...I d-don't know. I don't...w-want to. Live forever like this. [Not the way she feels right now. Not even if Syo stayed useful. Eventually, she'd like a quiet life. A normal one. Maybe Komaru would miss Syo, but that's something else entirely. If she'll even stay your friend after all this.]
You exist b-because you want to keep him safe. I think...she's more about t-taking revenge. When we get hurt. [A beat. Then a sour scoff and a gritting of her teeth.] She was safer, for years. When I f-found someone I could put my trust in.
[Stupid to think I could put my trust in you, too.]
I don't know if th-that would be enough. But it worked for a long while.
[ the suspicion comes off her in waves, oppressive. still, something inside loosens when she says she doesn't want to live like that. of course she wouldn't. nobody would want to live with somebody like him- somebody like syo- hidden inside. ]
Mm. "I" was born to protect Mikoto. So once he no longer needs my protection...
[ he'll disappear. it was never supposed to drag on like this, though. the stress wasn't supposed to eat at mikoto, compounding week after week like this. he was always hidden inside, unsure of how to help in the long run, but for the time being there is the stressor standing in front of him now. ]
Why not do it yourself? Take revenge. Show her you don't need her anymore.
[it's too flimsy a promise, based on practicalities. But the way he says it is what catches her — there's resignation in it. Whether it's what will happen or not remains to be seen, but the intention remains stalwart.
He looks tired. It only strikes her now that he isn't a much better sight than she is. Relatively, anyway.
Her lips purse.]
What? Like I sh-should have punched him and Stolas?
[Maybe. Obviously, between Syo's solution and that, one is infinitely superior. Her hands come up to brush at her hair, get some of it out of her damn face finally. Give them something to do that isn't balling up tight at her sides.]
I don't want to k-kill people, for starters. [Double obviously.] And...I don't...like to hurt people. S-same as Mikoto.
[Sure, she'll rip them up with words, keep them at bay. But beyond that she's toothless. Too used to taking the hits. He's not interested in her little sob stories though.]
[ he isn't. it takes everything not to scoff at every other thing she says. ]
Obviously "I"m not telling you to kill people. Then you'd just be Syo.
[ and then he'd really have to kill her. but no, he means more to separate the two of them, though to do that they reconcile just a little. he fingers one of the scissors in his pocket, thinking of handing one to fukawa and telling her to use it, but she really is too much like mikoto. he would have dropped it and refused to touch it, wouldn't even want to look at it. they're too much alike, but he doesn't want to think about being anything similar to syo. ]
You do still want revenge. Let it out before it explodes. You don't have to worry about hurting anybody here.
[I'VE BEEN TRYING TO START THIS TAG FOR EONS crawls out of sneezegate
This has taken yet another turn. Her brows furrow, she looks at him with palpable uncertainty.]
...
[Not having to worry about it. He can't really be serious.
Fukawa barely breathes, taking the first step closer. Then another. With his coming to collect her scissors they weren't so far apart that this takes more time and courage than she has to spare. But she makes it in front of him.
Her hand lifts. And then draws back to her chest, balling up again.]
She already went t-too far. [A beat. She wets her lips.] But...since my voice sickens you so much?
My revenge is that you have to listen to what I'm g-going to say.
[ he draws back without taking a step, fist digging into the sharp scissor blades until he feels a sting and then his hands loosen again. what is he scared for... no. that's not the right emotion. he's uneasy, but that's about as good as he can place it. ]
I th-think it's shitty the way you k-keep him on a leash. Wiping his mind wh-whenever things don't happen the way you like, when sometimes it's n-not actually risking his life at all. If she had that power over me I would have n-never been safe. And he w-won't either. Nothing will ever f-feel safe because you can't ever control every second of every day, so how can I believe what you s-say about disappearing?
...And it's also shitty that you c-can't...he can't think about someone else's feelings for once. It doesn't matter who g-gets hurt, as long as one of you is happy. It's not n-noble to pursue happiness at all costs, when you just trample over other people for it. Why should I have to f-feel like worthless t-trash so he can have a good time at a stupid party? That just makes you a prick.
[There's a pause. Less for breath, and more because she hadn't planned to go further than that. But she does.]
And I'm...sorry.
I'm s-sorry that she hurt you. Killed you. Th-that I couldn't stop it.
[She blinks fast. All dried out, too much crying over the last few days, but her eyes prickle just the same.]
I'm sorry about whatever happened that made him l-lose himself. That scared him s-so bad he needed you. I hope whatever it is stops, or dies, or just b-blows the fuck up forever. I'm sorry that either of you f-felt like you needed to come to this hell hole to d-deal with it.
I'm sorry I couldn't help you. [Well. There's one. Her nose wrinkles and her finger dashes beneath the lens of her glasses to catch it, obliterate it. No more damn tears today.] Either of you. I w-wanted to.
[ this really is some revenge, make to stand and listen without the chance to respond to any of it. he bites down on his tongue to keep from it, tasting blood, letting off the pressure, forcing himself to keep a steady gaze with fukawa as she puts some of her frustrations into words.
she's not wrong. about any of it. the way he keeps a tight leash on mikoto, the overprotectiveness with which he acts. he knows mikoto is scared of him, the gaps in his memory where anything could have happened. but he's scared too, and that fear seeps into the space between him and fukawa even though he's not voicing any of it.
the fear of loss. the fear of losing the only person he has, the one he wants to keep safe and happy at the cost of everything and everybody around because he doesn't care about anybody else's feelings. what are they to him? nothing and nobody.
there's the feeling of everything falling apart the more that she talks. the apologies that she hands him and he doesn't know what to do with, a shitty stand-in for the actual person who needs to be hearing this.
what would mikoto think, if he were hearing this...?
"I'm sorry we ever met," she says, and the vestiges of despair in his heart reaches out to hers. ]
[She half expected him to fire back regardless. To hear her out and end with a scoff, or even a shove off. Some kind of hot-headed dismissal. It's hard to reason with this one.
Instead, she seems to have cleaved through something. His expression is gutting. The feeling coming off him is even worse. It comes to join her own misery, coiling around and coalescing into one bottomless pit. Ready to suck the pair of them in.
She's wasted her shot. Her continued safety, her freedom, her life — the friendship she fought so hard to keep with Komaru, the first and only friend she'd ever had — all of it riding on leashing Genocider Syo. The girl had broken loose and broke their promise, and now Fukawa will return to nothing. Even if she gets her wish, she can't trust herself any longer. It'll be to the gallows or a lifelong cell for her.
Despair...
She can just see that bitch shivering with pleasure as she utters the word. All Enoshima had wanted to give them was a taste of it. Beautiful oblivion. She could let herself slip into it, stop trying. Let him come along with her, down they go into the pitch black. Forget forgiveness, forget redemption. Happiness was never meant to last, but you can have all the misery you could eat.
His eyes look more like Mikoto's now. That tortured slant they took on when he greeted her as she crawled back from the grave. This devastation is his own though. Maybe it'll echo through the both of them, but she doesn't like the look of it on either boy.
Fukawa bites the inside of her lip.]
...It doesn't have to be that way.
[They don't have to choose this. Hope can seem stupid, seem impossible. But that's when they need it the most.
Her hand comes between them. There isn't hesitation now, just a measured move as she lays it over his heart, like approaching a wild animal. Plucking a thorn from a hissing beast's paw. She'd try for his hands if he wasn't clutching his defences for dear life. The pounding beneath her palm steadies her own pulse, even if it's far from even.]
You don't h-have to be alone. Not Mikoto. N-not you.
[She still cares for him, even after all this. That's why it hurts so damn bad in the first place.]
[ despair... it really would have been so easy to give into it. mikoto had reached that point once before, and that was the moment he was born. he was born screaming, crying, covered in blood and tears and out of control— but at the same time, it was so freeing, that oblivion. nothing mattered. the future held nothing for him. all he had was himself in that moment, born screaming from the depths of his soul all of the pain and frustration mikoto had bottled up his entire life.
fukawa says it doesn't have to be this way, but it's all he's ever known.
his hand slides out of his pocket to grab fukawa's wrist, but he can't find the energy to toss her away. instead, he just holds it there, her hand on his chest, the dull thuds within squeezing at him with every beat. ]
"I" just want him to be safe. But this world... everyone...
[ this place is a nightmare. people keep dying, and for no good reason. they either die or they get hurt, and mikoto's heart hurts for them. curses and jingles flit through the air like gnats. people he's come to trust turn out to be monsters. rondo abandoned him. anybody can die at any die and mikoto isn't strong enough to handle that on his own, he needs him, he needs to be there, he needs to keep himself safe in this hateful horrible world ]
[She winces as he grabs at her wrist, but there's no force behind it. If he meant to do more than spook her, he chokes up at the last second. She doesn't think that will change too soon. He's still radiating desolation. If it were any other week she might have been too afraid to try this much. It's a bit of a cheat, isn't it?
But if it works, if it breaks through something, maybe it's worth it.]
It's a c-crappy world. [To put it lightly. Here, at home. All over.] But it's the one we're in. And w-we're still alive. I can't tell you things will be s-safe for him, because they probably won't be.
It's just harder to keep anyone s-safe by yourself. You're t-two people, but you're still just one guy. Of course it feels impossible.
M-maybe people leave. Die, or just go. And maybe they d-don't turn out to be wh-what you thought they were. [She has to pause here a moment. Unwisely, she lets her other hand come atop his where it clutches her wrist. Soft, easily shaken away. It might be, even cowed as he is. Just who is this speech really for? Him, or her?] But others m-might not.
Most everyone here likes him. And they're strong. Don't w-waste that just because it m-might go wrong later.
[...]
Not everyone's g-going to turn out to be like me.
Edited (no actually holds his hand harder) 2026-03-27 03:06 (UTC)
[ it's a crappy world and there's no way to keep mikoto safe, is what he's hearing. he won't be able to do it by himself, and even though there are so many strong people here who would protect mikoto, they won't be able to either.
it's useless. useless. his grip tightens around fukawa's wrist, as the words pound through his head like a mantra. useless. hopeless. pointless. all of this...
it's going to hurt later, when he lets go. he doesn't shake either of her hands off- but is that better or worse? ]
He wanted to live the rest of his life with you. Some mundane, but happy existence. That's impossible... isn't it?
[ because of how she turned out to be. because of what he is. ]
"I" can't erase his memories of you. The time you spent together. His feelings. If "I" could...
[ would he? blank slate mikoto and redirect him towards somebody else who would be able to protect him better? mikoto would not be happy about it, if he knew, but he would be safe. and isn't that the most important thing? ]
The her fingers spasm against him as he takes too sharp a hold of her. She grimaces. Her other hand tightens too, not to hurt but to beg for mercy. Try to tuck under his fingers some. His thoughts reflect too now, picking up on all the worst words she used and tumbling them back around, isolated from her intention.
She's about to refute it, demand he ease off. Then he says that.
Fukawa, who has been prone to imagining watching her loves from a distance as dates, who has spent the last few years grovelling for a man who hates her, telling herself that they'll be married one day, can't fathom it. Those are her words. Her ideas, her fast flights of fancy to push on some unsuspecting soul. Inevitably they're all thrown back at her. Delusion and desperation, two of the worst traits to have in a lonely girl.
Spending the rest of their lives together.
She has to breathe. Evenly, not the hitching breath that threatens to crack her calm. There's the void, and then there's hurt. Heartbreak, swift and strong as a lash of lightning, cleaves through that flattened hopelessness between them. It hurts so badly, she longs so badly. For something she didn't even think possible before now.
What was so fucking different about him, anyhow? She'd always lost her head around guys and trailed after their heels. They ran, and she chased after. Never caught up. Meanwhile Mikoto just showed up and never stopped showing up. Annoying her, coaxing her and teasing her and being so stupid sickly sweet. It wasn't the way things go. It's not. She's repulsive, and a monster.
He wanted to be with her.
Does it have to be impossible? Can't they try?
Fine, he'll have to despise her. She's crying now. Head bowed, clutching his chest and his arresting grip, her shoulders shaking.]
I w-w-would...I would have...liked that. I'd like nothing m-more.
[Peace. Quiet. Happiness. Love. She's barely had any of it, much less more than one at once.
She thinks of him smiling, sweet kisses. Telling her he adored her.]
That's not fair. You can't t-tell me that now, that's n-not fair. How am I supposed to...l-let it go? I want that too.
I don't want to erase it. I don't want to lose him. I don't want to, I don't want to, I don't want to.
[ he doesn't care what she wants. it doesn't matter. he'd grit his teeth and tell her so, but then she starts sobbing and he feels his heart break. that's her heart breaking- he doesn't care, can't care for anybody outside of mikoto- but it's his heart too that has to feel itself being rendered with each shaking breath shared between them.
it has to be impossible. because it wouldn't work out. it can't.
he looks down at fukawa but he can't see the crazed look that was in syo's eyes, the wild grin and cackling laugh impossible to find in the face of this grief-stricken girl that floods his memories when he tries to block out her whining. he was there too. he saw all of that too, felt all of that. remembers the first time fukawa had cried in front of mikoto, tears of happiness that had left him stunned. remembers sitting on the sofa bed together in the middle of the night, heads on each other's shoulders and talking about nothing, the last time mikoto had felt safe and it was in the wake of death. remembers the library, hands and teeth, how happy mikoto was when his affections were returned, how complete he felt when their bodies were joined, how he'd thought he could take on whatever the world decided to throw at him as long as he could have this.
this
this that could destroy mikoto, this impossible love that could not last, that had no chance in a world like this, he had wanted that too.
it's overwhelming, this love that is not his, the fear that is, the hopelessness that is more a matter of fact than a real feeling, numbed to it as he's becoming. his grip on fukawa's hand loosens, drops. he wants to shove her away. he wants to run. instead he clutches his head as the emotions pour out of him- all the yearning, the infatuation. the possessiveness and insecurity. confusion. regret. the terror that goes hand in hand with hope. love is there too, at the basin of these emotions that he spills out so he does not drown ]
it should be a million middle fingers after everything
He lets go of her hand and she nearly totters back, head reeling as her chest is swarmed with every anxious, life-upending turn affection could take. Nothing like what she expects from this side of himself. Nothing he's allowed, nothing he'll acknowledge, until the pressure builds too high. Pop.
What else can she do?
Fukawa sweeps back in and threads her arms around him. Screw it. If he hurts her, fine. If he throws her off and runs, whatever. But she feels it all too.
Her heartbreak still stings but it's the want that hurts more. It's only been a month — wiser souls would tell them to get a fucking grip — but she's never been one to feel things by halves. Jealousy? Through the roof. Possessiveness? Oh boy. What do you think has her arms curling around him like it's a reunion of several years, and not mere days?
She wants him so much. Doesn't deserve him. Doesn't deserve to have any of this deluge spilled over to her. Shouldn't be reflecting it back, twofold. Infatuation might be quick and cheap, but it had been rooting too deep to call it so any longer.
Love. Vast, prescient, and terrifying.]
Please. [She hiccups against him, uncertain but so desperate.] Let me t-try again. I'll do whatever it takes. Please?
It d-doesn't have to be like this. It doesn't have to.
[ he stiffens under her touch, more awkward than repulsed, and even more than that is the fear. he is very obviously not the person she wishes she could be hugging right now, not the person this display of affection is for. if anything, it feels like he's the parent fukawa is asking for permission to date mikoto and he wants to say no just out of principle.
"will you promise to make him happy?" that goes without question, without any input from her necessary
"will you promise to keep him safe?" that one's a bit more complicated, but is there anybody in the world who could? fukawa doesn't inspire much confidence in him, and syo remains a ticking time bomb, and the world is cruel but at least it can't hurt mikoto when he is being held hostage.
is safe better than happy? if he had to choose one over the other? ]
It's pointless, asking "me"...
[ he thinks of his wish, and what had brought them here. he looks down at his hands, hanging loose at his sides, watches them lift and settle back down on fukawa's shoulders so he can push her away and out of the hug. it's not a rejection, nor is it a gesture of reassurance. the overwhelming emotion is awkwardness. ]
But... if you'll take him back...
[ fukawa's the one who rejected him in the first place? incited her evil other self to kill mikoto for his wrongdoings. she's asking him to give her another chance but really shouldn't it be the other way around ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Taser's kind of extreme...
no subject
It was given to me just for that. I needed s-something reliable to control when she comes and goes. If I couldn't m-make her useful, they probably would have imprisoned me.
[Or executed her. Naegi would have fought the verdict, but she's much less certain about the rest.
Are we really going to get into that crap now?]
no subject
[ he frowns slightly, at the object in his hand, but he still doesn't lower it. the more he hears the more he's leaning towards both fjord and fukawa just fucking with him, fjord's suggestion won't do shit ]
Whatever. "I" don't care about your past. "I" need to know what happens now. When she's out, how can you have control enough to send her away?
[ she can taser herself into letting syo free, but then what? a psychopath like that would just keep on being, he thinks, and never want to go back to being a normal girl. ]
no subject
She withers some, looking away from him for the first time. That oppressive blanket coils around her coldly. Comfortingly. Just wipe it all out. What's the point in caring what he thinks anymore? You're a monster. He's only half of one, killer in self defense.]
The taser only let her out for a short while. Here, y-you'd have to knock me out, or make me sneeze. Electrocute me I guess, someone's b-bound to have a bullshit spell like that on hand.
[Her lips twitch.]
Just send me back to the antenna if you don't believe me. It's n-not like it'll matter.
no subject
You're right. It's pointless, killing you, because you'd just wake up as Syo, wouldn't you?
[ if fainting can trigger it, why not death? actually, why not sleep...? it doesn't make sense, but he has to figure it out. ]
Tell me. How do "I" kill her, and still save you?
no subject
What?
[She looks back at him, nose wrinkling as she runs the words back. Blind-sided.]
Save me? What are you s-saying? Are you stupid?
You said you'd kill me.
no subject
Are you stupid? Who's the one who killed him?
no subject
[maybe he just missed the final act. She wasn't there to see any of it. All she knows is what she woke up to.]
I don't — wh-why would you say something like that? I'm the one who — y-y-you can't split us up any easier than we could split you and him up! And you h-hate my guts, so why...
What?
no subject
[ did he? kill syo? hell yeah, he congratulates himself belatedly because he didn't actually know if he managed, if only he had held on for a little longer. it would have been nice to see her on the ground, go to town on her face with his bat.
but he looks at fukawa's face, the girl standing in front of him looking like she's about to cry and he doesn't feel that same violence. they're just too different. too easy to pretend they're two different people.
is that not the same for him and mikoto? ]
Listen— shut up and listen to me. [ look at him. don't you dare cry. ] "I" will disappear once "I" know he is safe. That is "my" decision. And for you and Syo? Will you live like that forever?
[ is this the one time dangan is realistic about this ]
no subject
He'll...go.
He'll go?
Fukawa blinks, mind racing and throat gone arid. Is he just full of it, or is he being sincere? And what would he even consider safe, when he was popping out at the slightest provocation? When Mikoto was at risk every time something upsetting happened, he was so damn sensitive to it all. How could such a thing even be possible? She'd read all about it, this little condition of theirs, and found too many exceptions to the rules to play by. And how the hell could she ask for help for it? There was no where to turn to.
Except...
...]
...I d-don't know. I don't...w-want to. Live forever like this. [Not the way she feels right now. Not even if Syo stayed useful. Eventually, she'd like a quiet life. A normal one. Maybe Komaru would miss Syo, but that's something else entirely. If she'll even stay your friend after all this.]
You exist b-because you want to keep him safe. I think...she's more about t-taking revenge. When we get hurt. [A beat. Then a sour scoff and a gritting of her teeth.] She was safer, for years. When I f-found someone I could put my trust in.
[Stupid to think I could put my trust in you, too.]
I don't know if th-that would be enough. But it worked for a long while.
no subject
Mm. "I" was born to protect Mikoto. So once he no longer needs my protection...
[ he'll disappear. it was never supposed to drag on like this, though. the stress wasn't supposed to eat at mikoto, compounding week after week like this. he was always hidden inside, unsure of how to help in the long run, but for the time being there is the stressor standing in front of him now. ]
Why not do it yourself? Take revenge. Show her you don't need her anymore.
no subject
[it's too flimsy a promise, based on practicalities. But the way he says it is what catches her — there's resignation in it. Whether it's what will happen or not remains to be seen, but the intention remains stalwart.
He looks tired. It only strikes her now that he isn't a much better sight than she is. Relatively, anyway.
Her lips purse.]
What? Like I sh-should have punched him and Stolas?
[Maybe. Obviously, between Syo's solution and that, one is infinitely superior. Her hands come up to brush at her hair, get some of it out of her damn face finally. Give them something to do that isn't balling up tight at her sides.]
I don't want to k-kill people, for starters. [Double obviously.] And...I don't...like to hurt people. S-same as Mikoto.
[Sure, she'll rip them up with words, keep them at bay. But beyond that she's toothless. Too used to taking the hits. He's not interested in her little sob stories though.]
no subject
Obviously "I"m not telling you to kill people. Then you'd just be Syo.
[ and then he'd really have to kill her. but no, he means more to separate the two of them, though to do that they reconcile just a little. he fingers one of the scissors in his pocket, thinking of handing one to fukawa and telling her to use it, but she really is too much like mikoto. he would have dropped it and refused to touch it, wouldn't even want to look at it. they're too much alike, but he doesn't want to think about being anything similar to syo. ]
You do still want revenge. Let it out before it explodes. You don't have to worry about hurting anybody here.
no subject
This has taken yet another turn. Her brows furrow, she looks at him with palpable uncertainty.]
...
[Not having to worry about it. He can't really be serious.
Fukawa barely breathes, taking the first step closer. Then another. With his coming to collect her scissors they weren't so far apart that this takes more time and courage than she has to spare. But she makes it in front of him.
Her hand lifts. And then draws back to her chest, balling up again.]
She already went t-too far. [A beat. She wets her lips.] But...since my voice sickens you so much?
My revenge is that you have to listen to what I'm g-going to say.
no subject
Fine. Talk.
no subject
[The floor is hers. Well?]
I th-think it's shitty the way you k-keep him on a leash. Wiping his mind wh-whenever things don't happen the way you like, when sometimes it's n-not actually risking his life at all. If she had that power over me I would have n-never been safe. And he w-won't either. Nothing will ever f-feel safe because you can't ever control every second of every day, so how can I believe what you s-say about disappearing?
...And it's also shitty that you c-can't...he can't think about someone else's feelings for once. It doesn't matter who g-gets hurt, as long as one of you is happy. It's not n-noble to pursue happiness at all costs, when you just trample over other people for it. Why should I have to f-feel like worthless t-trash so he can have a good time at a stupid party? That just makes you a prick.
[There's a pause. Less for breath, and more because she hadn't planned to go further than that. But she does.]
And I'm...sorry.
I'm s-sorry that she hurt you. Killed you. Th-that I couldn't stop it.
[She blinks fast. All dried out, too much crying over the last few days, but her eyes prickle just the same.]
I'm sorry about whatever happened that made him l-lose himself. That scared him s-so bad he needed you. I hope whatever it is stops, or dies, or just b-blows the fuck up forever. I'm sorry that either of you f-felt like you needed to come to this hell hole to d-deal with it.
I'm sorry I couldn't help you. [Well. There's one. Her nose wrinkles and her finger dashes beneath the lens of her glasses to catch it, obliterate it. No more damn tears today.] Either of you. I w-wanted to.
...I'm sorry we ever met.
no subject
she's not wrong. about any of it. the way he keeps a tight leash on mikoto, the overprotectiveness with which he acts. he knows mikoto is scared of him, the gaps in his memory where anything could have happened. but he's scared too, and that fear seeps into the space between him and fukawa even though he's not voicing any of it.
the fear of loss. the fear of losing the only person he has, the one he wants to keep safe and happy at the cost of everything and everybody around because he doesn't care about anybody else's feelings. what are they to him? nothing and nobody.
there's the feeling of everything falling apart the more that she talks. the apologies that she hands him and he doesn't know what to do with, a shitty stand-in for the actual person who needs to be hearing this.
what would mikoto think, if he were hearing this...?
"I'm sorry we ever met," she says, and the vestiges of despair in his heart reaches out to hers. ]
no subject
Instead, she seems to have cleaved through something. His expression is gutting. The feeling coming off him is even worse. It comes to join her own misery, coiling around and coalescing into one bottomless pit. Ready to suck the pair of them in.
She's wasted her shot. Her continued safety, her freedom, her life — the friendship she fought so hard to keep with Komaru, the first and only friend she'd ever had — all of it riding on leashing Genocider Syo. The girl had broken loose and broke their promise, and now Fukawa will return to nothing. Even if she gets her wish, she can't trust herself any longer. It'll be to the gallows or a lifelong cell for her.
Despair...
She can just see that bitch shivering with pleasure as she utters the word. All Enoshima had wanted to give them was a taste of it. Beautiful oblivion. She could let herself slip into it, stop trying. Let him come along with her, down they go into the pitch black. Forget forgiveness, forget redemption. Happiness was never meant to last, but you can have all the misery you could eat.
His eyes look more like Mikoto's now. That tortured slant they took on when he greeted her as she crawled back from the grave. This devastation is his own though. Maybe it'll echo through the both of them, but she doesn't like the look of it on either boy.
Fukawa bites the inside of her lip.]
...It doesn't have to be that way.
[They don't have to choose this. Hope can seem stupid, seem impossible. But that's when they need it the most.
Her hand comes between them. There isn't hesitation now, just a measured move as she lays it over his heart, like approaching a wild animal. Plucking a thorn from a hissing beast's paw. She'd try for his hands if he wasn't clutching his defences for dear life. The pounding beneath her palm steadies her own pulse, even if it's far from even.]
You don't h-have to be alone. Not Mikoto. N-not you.
[She still cares for him, even after all this. That's why it hurts so damn bad in the first place.]
no subject
fukawa says it doesn't have to be this way, but it's all he's ever known.
his hand slides out of his pocket to grab fukawa's wrist, but he can't find the energy to toss her away. instead, he just holds it there, her hand on his chest, the dull thuds within squeezing at him with every beat. ]
"I" just want him to be safe. But this world... everyone...
[ this place is a nightmare. people keep dying, and for no good reason. they either die or they get hurt, and mikoto's heart hurts for them. curses and jingles flit through the air like gnats. people he's come to trust turn out to be monsters. rondo abandoned him. anybody can die at any die and mikoto isn't strong enough to handle that on his own, he needs him, he needs to be there, he needs to keep himself safe in this hateful horrible world ]
no subject
But if it works, if it breaks through something, maybe it's worth it.]
It's a c-crappy world. [To put it lightly. Here, at home. All over.] But it's the one we're in. And w-we're still alive. I can't tell you things will be s-safe for him, because they probably won't be.
It's just harder to keep anyone s-safe by yourself. You're t-two people, but you're still just one guy. Of course it feels impossible.
M-maybe people leave. Die, or just go. And maybe they d-don't turn out to be wh-what you thought they were. [She has to pause here a moment. Unwisely, she lets her other hand come atop his where it clutches her wrist. Soft, easily shaken away. It might be, even cowed as he is. Just who is this speech really for? Him, or her?] But others m-might not.
Most everyone here likes him. And they're strong. Don't w-waste that just because it m-might go wrong later.
[...]
Not everyone's g-going to turn out to be like me.
no subject
it's useless. useless. his grip tightens around fukawa's wrist, as the words pound through his head like a mantra. useless. hopeless. pointless. all of this...
it's going to hurt later, when he lets go. he doesn't shake either of her hands off- but is that better or worse? ]
He wanted to live the rest of his life with you. Some mundane, but happy existence. That's impossible... isn't it?
[ because of how she turned out to be. because of what he is. ]
"I" can't erase his memories of you. The time you spent together. His feelings. If "I" could...
[ would he? blank slate mikoto and redirect him towards somebody else who would be able to protect him better? mikoto would not be happy about it, if he knew, but he would be safe. and isn't that the most important thing? ]
🖕
[there it is.
The her fingers spasm against him as he takes too sharp a hold of her. She grimaces. Her other hand tightens too, not to hurt but to beg for mercy. Try to tuck under his fingers some. His thoughts reflect too now, picking up on all the worst words she used and tumbling them back around, isolated from her intention.
She's about to refute it, demand he ease off. Then he says that.
Fukawa, who has been prone to imagining watching her loves from a distance as dates, who has spent the last few years grovelling for a man who hates her, telling herself that they'll be married one day, can't fathom it. Those are her words. Her ideas, her fast flights of fancy to push on some unsuspecting soul. Inevitably they're all thrown back at her. Delusion and desperation, two of the worst traits to have in a lonely girl.
Spending the rest of their lives together.
She has to breathe. Evenly, not the hitching breath that threatens to crack her calm. There's the void, and then there's hurt. Heartbreak, swift and strong as a lash of lightning, cleaves through that flattened hopelessness between them. It hurts so badly, she longs so badly. For something she didn't even think possible before now.
What was so fucking different about him, anyhow? She'd always lost her head around guys and trailed after their heels. They ran, and she chased after. Never caught up. Meanwhile Mikoto just showed up and never stopped showing up. Annoying her, coaxing her and teasing her and being so stupid sickly sweet. It wasn't the way things go. It's not. She's repulsive, and a monster.
He wanted to be with her.
Does it have to be impossible? Can't they try?
Fine, he'll have to despise her. She's crying now. Head bowed, clutching his chest and his arresting grip, her shoulders shaking.]
I w-w-would...I would have...liked that. I'd like nothing m-more.
[Peace. Quiet. Happiness. Love. She's barely had any of it, much less more than one at once.
She thinks of him smiling, sweet kisses. Telling her he adored her.]
That's not fair. You can't t-tell me that now, that's n-not fair. How am I supposed to...l-let it go? I want that too.
I don't want to erase it. I don't want to lose him. I don't want to, I don't want to, I don't want to.
how i thought that was a👍at first
it has to be impossible. because it wouldn't work out. it can't.
he looks down at fukawa but he can't see the crazed look that was in syo's eyes, the wild grin and cackling laugh impossible to find in the face of this grief-stricken girl that floods his memories when he tries to block out her whining. he was there too. he saw all of that too, felt all of that. remembers the first time fukawa had cried in front of mikoto, tears of happiness that had left him stunned. remembers sitting on the sofa bed together in the middle of the night, heads on each other's shoulders and talking about nothing, the last time mikoto had felt safe and it was in the wake of death. remembers the library, hands and teeth, how happy mikoto was when his affections were returned, how complete he felt when their bodies were joined, how he'd thought he could take on whatever the world decided to throw at him as long as he could have this.
this
this that could destroy mikoto, this impossible love that could not last, that had no chance in a world like this, he had wanted that too.
it's overwhelming, this love that is not his, the fear that is, the hopelessness that is more a matter of fact than a real feeling, numbed to it as he's becoming. his grip on fukawa's hand loosens, drops. he wants to shove her away. he wants to run. instead he clutches his head as the emotions pour out of him- all the yearning, the infatuation. the possessiveness and insecurity. confusion. regret. the terror that goes hand in hand with hope. love is there too, at the basin of these emotions that he spills out so he does not drown ]
it should be a million middle fingers after everything
He lets go of her hand and she nearly totters back, head reeling as her chest is swarmed with every anxious, life-upending turn affection could take. Nothing like what she expects from this side of himself. Nothing he's allowed, nothing he'll acknowledge, until the pressure builds too high. Pop.
What else can she do?
Fukawa sweeps back in and threads her arms around him. Screw it. If he hurts her, fine. If he throws her off and runs, whatever. But she feels it all too.
Her heartbreak still stings but it's the want that hurts more. It's only been a month — wiser souls would tell them to get a fucking grip — but she's never been one to feel things by halves. Jealousy? Through the roof. Possessiveness? Oh boy. What do you think has her arms curling around him like it's a reunion of several years, and not mere days?
She wants him so much. Doesn't deserve him. Doesn't deserve to have any of this deluge spilled over to her. Shouldn't be reflecting it back, twofold. Infatuation might be quick and cheap, but it had been rooting too deep to call it so any longer.
Love. Vast, prescient, and terrifying.]
Please. [She hiccups against him, uncertain but so desperate.] Let me t-try again. I'll do whatever it takes. Please?
It d-doesn't have to be like this. It doesn't have to.
no subject
"will you promise to make him happy?" that goes without question, without any input from her necessary
"will you promise to keep him safe?" that one's a bit more complicated, but is there anybody in the world who could? fukawa doesn't inspire much confidence in him, and syo remains a ticking time bomb, and the world is cruel but at least it can't hurt mikoto when he is being held hostage.
is safe better than happy? if he had to choose one over the other? ]
It's pointless, asking "me"...
[ he thinks of his wish, and what had brought them here. he looks down at his hands, hanging loose at his sides, watches them lift and settle back down on fukawa's shoulders so he can push her away and out of the hug. it's not a rejection, nor is it a gesture of reassurance. the overwhelming emotion is awkwardness. ]
But... if you'll take him back...
[ fukawa's the one who rejected him in the first place? incited her evil other self to kill mikoto for his wrongdoings. she's asking him to give her another chance but really shouldn't it be the other way around ]
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)