crowspace | Thread continuation for thetaintedsorrow.

[As warm and comfortable as Chuuya feels all wrapped up in his boyfriend’s arms like this, he’s almost certain that he’s about to ruin the lazy, relaxed atmosphere.]

I ran into Niimi-chan earlier.

[Might as well start slow.]

Cute kid. Said that I make you happy.

Niimi's a good kid.

[At least Chuuya doesn't mind talking about this much... well, the last part's a little embarrassing, but not so much that he'd deny it.]

You didn't need him to tell you that, did you?

Yeah, he is. He showed me his fox plush and everything.

[Chuuya kisses his boyfriend on the corner of his lips before pulling back with a fond smile.]

No, but it’s nice to know you’re happier, even when I’m not around.

[But...]

He mentioned that you had kids...

[...Oh.

From their position, other-Chuuya can feel Chuuya tense up when he hears those words if he doesn't see it. He stops moving, hardly even breathing. And his expression is one of pain.

How is he supposed to talk about this? Of course his boyfriend deserves to know, but how is he supposed to bare the most painful parts of himself?

"Like a child hiding a dagger in your chest. Your compulsive obsession with isolating yourself makes you that way."

...At least he'll try.]

I had kids.

[Chuuya immediately feels guilty for bringing up such a painful subject, and he hugs his boyfriend even tighter when he feels him tense up, simply to let him know that he’s there.]

I’m sorry...I know you probably haven’t told me for a reason...

[Chuuya will be patient, waiting until poet-Chuuya is ready to say more.]

[It takes Chuuya a second. A second to just breathe, a second to remind himself that this is his boyfriend, who would never belittle his suffering. A second to work up the nerve to keep talking.]

I haven't told anybody about it. Niimi must have looked it up, or - it isn't just you. I've never talked about it, not since I was alive.

[That doesn't feel so long ago, sometimes.]

I believe you. And I don’t blame you at all.

[Chuuya is sure that Niimi didn’t mean to cause other-Chuuya pain by bringing it up either, but perhaps talking about it is the only way to begin to move forward.]

What happened?

[Chuuya feels like his throat is full of tar. It's an effort to drag each and every word free.]

...I had to bury my older son. Fumiya was two when he died of sickness.

[He remembers the funeral, he remembers sobbing, he remembers lunging for the casket and begging them not to take his child away from him.]

[A life cut too short. It’s an all too common tale in the Mafia, but two years old? An innocent who’d barely begun to experience life?

That’s far too cruel, even for someone like Chuuya who’s used to violence and carnage and death.]

I’m so sorry...

[The words sound hollow and meaningless no matter how true they are, so Chuuya continues to hold onto his boyfriend as tightly as he can for support.]

Edited 2017-12-29 04:43 (UTC)

[There's nothing you can say to make this pain better. Chuuya can't say 'it's alright' because it clearly is not alright. It won't be alright even if Chuuya learns how to get through his day without drinking or learns how to be honest with his emotions.

It will never, ever be alright.]

I - I had a nervous breakdown after that, hallucinations, trouble eating... Had to be in a mental hospital for a month. Even when I got out I wasn't okay.

[The words that he's kept stopped up for so long, now that he's started to let them free, just keep pouring out.]

I died only a year after he did. I don't know how I'm supposed to have recovered. I know it was eighty years ago but for me it just happened, how am I supposed to-

[He buries his face in mafia-Chuuya's shoulder, trembling, trying so hard not to cry.]

[It’s true, there are no magic words that Chuuya can say to take away the pain, but he can hold poet-Chuuya for as long as he needs and be a shoulder to lean on. Drinking and fucking work well as temporary distractions, but the only real way to heal is to talk about the things that make your heart ache, even if doing so makes it feel like you’re being torn apart.]

I’m sorry. You were alone, weren’t you? I can’t even begin to imagine...

[Chuuya’s stomach clenches and his heart sinks even further when he feels other-Chuuya trembling against him, and all he can do is hold him tight and gently stroke his hair, his voice a soft murmur.]

You can cry.

[Crying isn’t a sign of weakness, and the person he loves so much shouldn’t have to hold back on his account.]

["You can cry."

He hasn't been told that. He might not have listened to anyone else - wouldn't have even let them get close enough to know that he needed to cry, if he had his way. But with other-Chuuya, who's already seen him weak...

For the first time since he came back to this world, Chuuya lets himself cry over the son who deserved an extra year or two of life far more than he himself does. He sobs into his boyfriend's chest, and keeps sobbing until he's cried out all of his tears.

When it's over, he just sits there, holding onto other-Chuuya, until he finally manages in a tiny voice:]

...Thank you.

[It’s heartbreaking to hear his boyfriend cry like this, so mournfully and full of the kind of despair that Chuuya himself has yet to experience, and hopes he never has to. The closest thing he’s ever had to a family is the Mafia, and he’s grown used to dealing with the loss of men he might’ve called friends, but a son? His own flesh and blood? He can only imagine that pain...

Chuuya holds the love of his life tightly, supporting him until he feels like he’s no longer falling apart.]

You’re welcome.

[He kisses the top of Chuuya’s head softly, his own tears threatening to fall.]

I love you.

I love you. So much.

[So much that other-Chuuya is the first of his reasons to get out of bed in the morning, the first of his reasons to want to continue to be here.]

...Stay a little longer?

[Chuuya now has a reason to try and come home safe, and a reason to never think about how much he’s been hurt in the past ever again.]

I love you. I’ll say it as much as I can. Promise.

[And he’ll stay as long as he can, too, consequences be damned.]

Edited 2017-12-31 15:04 (UTC)

Thread continuation for thetaintedsorrow.

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