epidemiology | [open] I know it's hard to tell how mixed up you feel

Entry tags:

[open] I know it's hard to tell how mixed up you feel

CHARACTERS: Kojuro Katakura + anyone who wants to come check up on him.
DATE: Jan 7th ~ 21st-ish
WARNINGS: Manpain and swearing, nothing else.
SUMMARY: To say Kojuro is taking Masamune's transfer badly would be a massive understatement.

[When Kojuro had heard the news about Masamune's transfer, he had first assumed it was a mistake of some sort. Too much time spent denying not dissimilar words from Takenaka had made it instinct, had only reinforced the certainty that Masamune was the focal point of his world.

When it became clear that it was in fact truth, that ALISTAIR had for some reason seen fit to separate them without warning, he had only barely managed to rein in the urge to scream or punch someone. As satisfying as that would have been in the short term, he knew that it would only anger the higher-ups, and hurt the relationships he had left.

That feeling hasn't left him, though - the particular combination of anger and hurt that he thought he'd outgrown a long time ago - and it makes it hard to be around other people. He doesn't trust himself not to worry them, or to say something hurtful. Easier to spend his time in the stables, or in the fields where nobody else is. To practice until he's too tired to think or worry. That he might be causing others to worry is perhaps a little lost on him at the moment.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[One of the dubious benefits of living your life in a lie, a bubble of a world created just for you, is that no one ever leaves you. Sieglinde had grown up in a village where no one ever died, and no one ever left. A lovely enough blessing... until it actually happened, and you had little idea how to deal with those feelings.

She'd had a taste of what it felt like, to lose someone close to you, when Gilgamesh had been transferred during their Zeta-12 mission, leaving her only with memories and the golden bracelet she took to wearing on her left wrist. But then didn't compare, in the end, to losing Masamune. She'd taken to wearing the tantou he had lent her during their last mission, strung on the chain belt she wore about her waist, and wondered if that's what losing people was. Being without them, and left only with mementos.

It was pointless to be standing outside his door. He couldn't be found there any longer. But she was there nonetheless, biting on her bottom lip and fingers curled into fists, gaze dark. She didn't really notice, how long she stood there, and her focus was narrow, not noticing either that someone else was coming down the hall when she finally moved to open the door, and let herself in to the now mostly empty room.

Even though he wasn't there any longer.]

[It was still harder than it should be to walk down this hall, past what used to be Masamune's room, devoid of him or any of his things - but it's too cold to recommend sleeping outside or in the stables as anything other than an act of desperation, particularly when there's a comfortable bed waiting for him inside. And besides, it shouldn't bother him this much - he's frustrated, yes, maybe a touch angry, but not distraught like an abandoned woman.

He almost doesn't notice Sieglinde, occupied as he is with his own thoughts, but the movement catches his eye, and when he realizes who it is, he feels a stab of guilt. He's been so wrapped up in his own feelings about Masamune's transfer that he's been avoiding everyone, even those here he still has responsibilities to. Best start making up for that right now.

He follows her, standing in the doorway.]

Sieglinde?

[The sting of renewed disappointment she feels when she walks into the room doesn't make any sense. She knew he was gone, already confirmed it- transferred to another team, shipped out to join them on a mission. His things were gone, he was gone... so why did she somehow feel shocked to not see him there, not hear him greet her, or smile, or-

Her vision blurs, threatening to spill hot, bitter tears she has been valiantly trying not to shed by burying herself between a mountain of her pet projects. She'd taken it for granted- that he would simply always be there by her side. He'd said he would take her with him back to his world. He'd said he wouldn't allow her to be transferred away.

But she supposed they'd neglected to make promises about the other way around. As if promises meant anything.

Kojuro's voice cuts through her thoughts, and she turns in surprise, trying to blink away her almost-tears and keep her balance, fingers fisting in her skirts.]

Ah- excuse me, I ought to have knocked...

[She'd never bothered doing it when he lived here, though.]

[He can hear the edge of tears in her voice, and he finds himself second-guessing his decision to follow her - perhaps she would have preferred to be alone right now]

Ah, sorry - I thought I should check on you...

No, it is fine-

[She's a bit too quick to assure, not just Kojuro, but herself, as well. If she said it enough, if she acted like it enough... she could eventually trick even herself.

Just like how she kept telling people she was a witch. Just like she kept telling people she'd always had magic. The more she said it the more true it became, so-]

I am fine.

[Another time and place, he might have let her get away with that lie - but right now, here in what was once Masamune's rooms, he feels the weight of responsibility, of promises made he refuses to break. And sometimes living up to that responsibility means doing the hard things and pushing rather than coddling. He learned that a long time ago with Masamune, and it's just as true now.]

Forgive my bluntness, but your tears say otherwise.

[It's so much harder to deny things when someone was standing in front of you doing the same. Just like how the illusions she was learning to cast always glitches and vanishes under scrutiny, so do her blatant lies crumble. She loses the battle to keep her tears just misting up her vision, and a few begin to roll bitter and resented down her cheeks, lip trembling in effort to prevent it, her grip on her own skirts growing white knuckled.]

It is so dusty in here already-

[Except it wasn't. And she knew he was right.

But she was still afraid. Afraid that if she acknowledged it, if she started... she might not be able to stop.]

[he knows it's not that dusty in here - but he also knows that's an attempt to save face, rather than outright denial, and and he can't quite bring himself to strip that away as well. So instead of pointing out the state of the room, he sighs and glances away from her.]

It's hard - not being able to do anything about it.

[It is hard.

Why did this have to happen when things were going so well? Hadn't Masamune been with Audentes for five whole missions, just like her? Hadn't they been together since Chantes? Hadn't he taken care of her when she needed it, and she him? Hadn't he promised to take her to his world, since hers had given her only lies? Hadn't he promised not to let them be separated?

Hadn't he become the most important person to her in this new and frightening place where she hadn't known a single soul?

But now it's begun and she can't stop the tears beginning to fall in shameful earnest, fingers shaking uselessly in her skirts. Selfish, she was being so selfish-]

It must be hard for you- I am sorry-

[After all... she was sure Masamune was Kojuro's most important person, too. Even if a bitter whisper in the back of her mind spoke of how at least they had the chance to be reunited in their proper world. Now, with Masamune gone... all she could envision for herself were the ashes of one.]

Mm. I have... experience, though. [not the first time he and Masamune have been pried apart unwillingly, even if before this it was typically at the point of a sword. He still hasn't forgiven Hanbei for that, and probably never will. It doesn't make this that muuch easier, but it means the feelings have a known shape, and he's gotten fairly good at controlling how much of them he shows]

I promised I would look out for you, though, and I haven't been doing a very good job of that.

[Experience. It's the thing she lacks, and she knows it, but that doesn't make it any easier. No one had ever left her carefully designed little world. No one had ever died. No one had ever moved. Then it was Oska, and ALASTAIR, and people were transferred all the time but rarely were they people she cared about.

Until Kidagakesh. Until Gilgamesh. Until Masamune.

Was it not supposed to get easier with experience? Why wasn't three enough to learn something so simple as how not to cry? Sieglinde tries to shake her head, hiccuping slightly in what tempted to become a sob, barely held back.]

I can walk now-

[Maybe she couldn't run, couldn't dance, couldn't skip, but she could walk.]

I do not need people to change the dressings or rebind my feet any longer, or be carried-

[So she didn't need looking after?]

That is why I let him unbind them in the first place, so-

[So... what? She can't seem to get it out, abandoning the protest in favor of biting in to her bottom lip to try and stop her tears.]

And Masamune can fight his own battles - and has - but I remain his Right Eye, nonetheless. [Which is to say, it isn't about ability, or that he thinks she needs his specific protection - it's that he cares about her, and promised Masamune he would take care of her, and he would rather die than break such oaths.

It's hard to say Masamune's name out loud, still - he's been avoiding it as much as he can, and his voice catches a little on it, though he pushes forward anyway.]

I was too caught up in my own anger to remember I wasn't the only one hurting - I'm sorry.

[There was a reason she hasn't said his name out loud yet either.

Just a few syllables, Masamune, and there's a hitch in her voice to match Kojuro's, her shoulders jerk up as her body tightens, knuckles pale, biting harder on her lip. It had been so much easier to pretend to be fine, to act strong, around people who hadn't known the man.]

I miss him-

[But around his Right Eye... the only other person she thought might understand the depth of how much she missed this person in particular... she can't accept his apology, there was nothing to forgive, struggling instead with trying to articulate the knot of despair that had taken hold of her heart even as her tears keep falling, keep threatening to burst forth in unintelligible sobs.]

It is not fair, for something like this to happen- Why does it hurt so much?

[How many more people would need leave her before she could accustom to it? Was Kojuro next? Olivia? Graham? Loki? Haise? It was too horrible to contemplate.]

[Kojuro kneels down, so he matches her height instead of towering over her. He wishes he had answers to give her, ones that would actually ease some of the paint both of them feel, but this is one area he's ill-equipped to deal with]

Because... we're human. We care about others, and so losing them hurts. [A woefully inadequate explanation, but while he can discuss treaties and domain policies for hours, he's having trouble finding the words for this thoughts and feelings right now]

In that case-

[She wants to say it would be better to not be human. To be a witch. Not the sort she'd always wanted to believe she was, kind, and helpful, and wise, but the sorts of witches from the stories and the rumors, the ones who stole children and consorted with Satan, because they, surely, they wouldn't be hurt over something as simple as a transferred team member.]

In that case-

[But she knows it's not true, knows that it would just be the upset rejections of a child, and she can't say it, biting into her lip instead to cut it off, shaking her head uselessly.]

[Kojuro can't guess her exact thoughts, but he can make a stab at the direction they're taking. Why not do everything possible to stop caring, to avoid ever feeling that pain. Discard that humanity. And this, at least, he has an answer for.]

If we never care, we become monsters instead of people. [It's what led to Oda, or Hideyoshi - to despots unconcerned with the people around or beneath them.

He offers Sieglinde a hand]

Let's go to my rooms - I'll make tea. [Because being in here is pretty incredibly depressing]

[Monsters. She'd been raised around monsters, werewolves and witches, but in the end... they hadn't been nearly as bad as the truth, as the people underneath the masks.

So maybe they weren't people at all. Maybe she'd learned that humans were far more cruel than beasts and monsters.

It's all she can do to reach out and take hold of Kojuro's hand, other raised so that she can at least hide her tears in her elbow.]

Just a moment-

[Just a minute to compose herself, so that no one else could see her cry. Just a minute more in the space she'd spent so much time in, near the bed she'd bounced on to wake up Masamune for her twelfth birthday, near the chair she'd sat in when she'd asked him to rebreak her bound feet, near the desk she'd slept at more than once.

Just... the person wasn't there anymore.]

[he takes her hand, but it's the least he can do to give her a moment to compose herself. It's what he would do - what he has done, in similar enough cases - for Masamune. After a few moments of silence, he prompts-]

Ready?

[Her hold on his hand is trembling, a consequence of tears, but it's tight, and that does not waver. Reigning in what has been let out is difficult, but she is practiced in things such as this- in controlling her feelings, in repressing, in putting aside emotion to serve duty or other causes.

And eventually, she manages.

Words seem to threaten to break the already fragile silence, however, and instead, she merely nods, wiping as best she can at her tears and trying to stand up straighter.

In order to leave this room behind.]

[Kojuro is silent as he leads Sieg out of the room - he doesn't have anything he can say that wouldn't be forced or trite. Better, then, to say nothing at all. Once in the hallway, he feels a little of the weight lift - out here, where the sounds of life in the building are louder, it's easier to push down some of those negative feelings and focus on the present instead. He's silent for a little longer as they walk, trying to think of something safe to say. Small-talk isn't once of his strong suits, and most of the time, he doesn't mind that it makes him seem brusque to others - but right now, it would come in handy.]

...The herbs in the greenhouse are doing well.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[open] I know it's hard to tell how mixed up you feel

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject