crowspace | Thread continuation for thetaintedsorrow.

[It's too bad that Chuuya can't appreciate being princess-carried by his boyfriend right now.]

Ink. Ink - in the infirmary, there's plenty...

[Even if Chuuya doesn't know where the infirmary is, his entrance has probably already caught the attention of some other dead authors who also don't want Chuuya to get hurt.]

[Ink...of course. It’s like a blood transfusion, right? Chuuya doesn’t question the request, instead rushing past several other dead authors in his frantic search. He’s probably going to be questioned later, but the ones he encounters seem to understand immediately once Chuuya finds several wells of ink and carries them back to other-Chuuya’s room, looking more than a little concerned.

He fumbles with them for a moment, almost spilling them everywhere as he hands them over to poet-Chuuya.]

Here...I got as much as I could find...

[Chuuya doesn't hesitate to take one of the inkwells and pour the entirety of its contents down his throat.

The letters disappear, leaving a grumpy-looking but relatively normal Chuuya.]

That never tastes any better... Ugh.

...Sorry you had to see that.

[Never thought he’d see anyone chugging ink, but there’s a first time for everything.]

Don’t apologize.

[Chuuya takes a deep, shaky breath of relief as he brushes a bit of other-Chuuya’s hair out of his face.]

You really freaked me out there, though. What was that?

[Chuuya leans into his boyfriend's hand as he considers how, exactly, he's going to explain everything that just happened.]

...When spirits like me get hurt enough, we start losing our tether to reality and our physical forms. If I'd gotten much more hurt there, you'd have been looking at an ink splatter instead of a body.

Plus losing your grip on reality isn't great for thinking clearly, so... It sucks.

[To put it lightly.]

You could’ve died again.

[It hits Chuuya like a ton of bricks then; he doesn’t just care about other-Chuuya, he cares for him so deeply that the thought of losing him is unbearable...

Since when has anyone ever mattered to Chuuya more than himself?]

This is my fault. I knew me being in the Mafia was going to cause problems.

[He crawls in bed next to tiny-Chuuya and lays his head on his chest then, listening to the sound of his heartbeat.]

Sorry.

It's fine. I'm alright now.

[Chuuya gently rubs his worried boyfriend's back. He wonders how many people give him massages in return. He wonders how many of them offer without him giving them one first.]

Aside from that part at the end, I had a really good time tonight.

[Chuuya smiles softly then, though there’s a hint of sadness to it.]

Yeah? Me too.

[A pause.]

That might’ve been my first real date.

Well, that explains that, your first date always gets messed up somehow. My first date got rained on.

[However long ago that was.]

Could've been worse. We could've gotten a table next to somebody surrounded by a cloud of cheap perfume. I'd rather fight some guys who're giving you a hard time, no question.

Heh. Guess so.

[He supposes he really has no reason to be all doom and gloom when other-Chuuya seems to have bounced back already, but he can’t seem to shake the feeling completely, and he ends up curling into his boyfriend even more.]

You should probably know more about my history eventually. Dunno if you wanna hear it, though.

[Other-Chuuya doesn't usually get to see Chuuya when he's like this: that doesn't mean it doesn't happen, and frequently.]

I'll listen to whatever you want to tell me. ...And I'll tell you whatever you want to know about me if you ask.

[He has such a hard time opening up, but... surely his boyfriend, who just saved his life, deserves to know.]

[No one's ever been willing to listen before...not that Chuuya has offered to spill his guts to very many people in the past. In fact, there’s only been one other person...]

I already told you I was an orphan that was raised in the Mafia. Well, so was Dazai. A lot of us were, actually, but somehow I ended up partners with the bastard.

[He wonders if this Chuuya has ever heard of the infamous Soukoku...

Probably not if he’s been fighting in books, but.]

Basically we tore shit up together, then one day he turned traitor and left. Kind of why I don’t trust people easily. That and the whole growing up among the Mafia thing.

[Definitely not. His being summoned here is fairly recent - a year or so at most - and by that time Double Black had dissolved, even if he were to hang around in those circles.]

Fuck that guy.

[Chuuya doesn't have many issues related to betrayal - he'd been more sad about his girlfriend leaving him than betrayed - but that's just not something you do to your partner. Mafia or otherwise.]

[That brings a ghost of a smile to Chuuya’s lips.]

Yeah. Fuck him.

[Except deep down Chuuya realizes that Dazai is the only one who could ever stop him during full Corruption mode without killing him, and that fact has never sat well with him, especially now that he has a reason to want to come out of it alive.]

There’s also another part of my ability, it’s “true form” I guess you’d say. Once I activate it I just keep destroying everything in my path until I die. Unless someone nullifies it.

How do I stop it?

[Because Chuuya's mind has immediately leapt to how do I help you when you need it? He hopes never to see that true form, but if it comes up, he wants to know what to do.]

You find a shitty bastard named Dazai and get him to nullify it. That’s the only way I know.

[Chuuya won’t activate Corruption if he can help it, but he also has no idea if it can be triggered on accident, so really, all they can do is hope the situation never arises.]

What about you? Should I carry around ink or something when we go out?

Normally I keep some in my pocket, but... Didn't bring any tonight.

[He'd gotten dressed up extra nicely for his date, and he hadn't wanted to risk spilling ink on those clothes. And he'd made other-Chuuya worry because of it.]

I'll be more careful.

...Did you want to ask anything about me?

[Understandable. Chuuya can sympathize with wanting to look nice.

There is one question he’s been wanting to ask, but felt that it would only dredge up painful memories. But, if they’re having a true heart to heart right now...]

You said you were married before. Were you ever in love?

...Once. That girlfriend who left me for my best friend - we'd been dating for years before that, I wrote her so many poems... She was my first love and I never found a woman I loved more.

She named me godfather to her first child. Even with things ending the way they did between us, I couldn't have been happier.

[The smile on Chuuya's face is fond, if tinged with sadness.]

That sounds...really nice.

[No sarcasm, but perhaps a hint of jealously. Even if their relationship ended badly, other-Chuuya knows what it’s like to be in love. That’s not something everyone can say, including Chuuya himself.]

I still haven’t gotten to read any of your stuff, you know.

[Chuuya hesitates for a moment, then picks up the book he keeps at his side - it had turned into a gun, but it's a book again - and holds it out to other-Chuuya.]

Careful with this, it's my soul.

[The cover reads 'Goat Songs'. A poem titled "For The Tainted Sorrow" is towards the middle.]

Your soul?

[Other-Chuuya actually means that, doesn’t he?

Chuuya handles the book with utmost care, even more than he’d use for an extremely old and expensive bottle of wine, and opens it up, curious to see his boyfriend’s life’s work.

They’re all incredible, of course, even if impressing Chuuya with words isn’t hard to do, and he’s surprised to see a poem sharing the name of his ability among the works.]

They’re really good.

[Chuuya gives his boyfriend a soft, genuine smile.]

She was lucky to have you write for her.

...Funny you say that...

[Cough. Chuuya's face is suddenly bright red and he stares at the ceiling rather than looking at his boyfriend.]

I wrote you something.

You did?

[Now it’s Chuuya's turn to blush a pretty shade of scarlet. Him? Inspiration for a poem? He can’t even...]

That’s... [Sweet? Thoughtful? Amazing? All of the above?]

I’d love to read it...

[After a moment, Chuuya reaches into the nearby drawer and pulls out a folded piece of paper, which he holds out to other-Chuuya.

In elegant handwriting, it reads:

Yesterday morning, my bed was cold.
Yesterday morning, the sun’s light was only painful to me.
When others spoke of waking up content, I didn’t understand their meaning.
Yesterday morning, I only wanted to return to sleep.

This morning, the warmth you give is far more than the sun could ever hope to bring.
This morning, the light filters through your hair falling around your face.
No one can truly speak of contentment who hasn’t had this moment,
your embrace,
your warmth,
your smile before you wake.
This morning I only want to stay in bed - but not to sleep.]

Thread continuation for thetaintedsorrow.

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