[everything about this place is disorienting. where akaza normally wouldn't even need a clear line of sight to react to danger, this fog dulls even the reach of his compass.
oh, well. frustrating as it is, he can do things the human way -- avoid his own monsters (he can't bring himself to engage them, just like that thing in the circus depths, he can't) and run around blindly.
then -- he sees it. that distinct blaze, flaring to life in combat. akaza beelines for kyojuro, and when the mist breaks, he happens upon the former hashira's assailants.
at this range, he can tell with his compass exactly what they're aiming for. akaza isn't stupid; the things that have chased him in this place are the same people, the same regrets, the same traumas he still hasn't accepted, that he's been running from for centuries. to akaza, this can only mean one thing, as far as kyojuro is concerned.
he hones in on the next monster readying an attack and leaps toward it, roundhouse kicking the fucking thing with so much force that the creature is cleaved in two at the waist. it matters not whether the things appear like demons or slayers; there is no mercy, no regret in his eyes, only the ferocity of a territorial beast. he doesn't even look at kyojuro as he locks in on the next creature.]
Are you hurt?
[he doesn't smell kyojuro's blood, but he doesn't know for certain whether or not his senses can be trusted here.]
[What passes is a mess of roaring blood in his own ears and spattering viscera on his surroundings. In one moment, he is not certain how to proceed. In the next, the immediate threat has resolved itself, and Kyojuro is left staring at the gore splatter that once was a fellow demon slayer.
And Kyojuro? Kyojuro doesn't know how to react.
Instinct has driven him over the last few minutes, and this is no different. Time and time again, he's come across this scene — too late to save his own kin, but stll on time to slay the monster who created the mess. It's no surprise that every muscle in his body begs for him to cut, slice, slay just as he was taught.
For a split second, Kyojuro grips his blade hard enough to make his knuckles ache. The demon doesn't even look at him. It would be easy, so easy to cut through that neck and end this madness.
But then that voice cuts through if not the fog in the town, then at least the one within his mind. In that single second, the world shifts itself, and he remembers. The slayers had been the one to try and kill them, and the demon —
No. Akaza. He's spent weeks correcting even his very mind, because the man he'd come to consider a friend had stepped beyond what Kyojuro had ever understood to be a demon. This is not his enemy.
This is his friend. The closest one he has at this point.]
Akaza - [If Kyojuro sounds breathless, it's because he'd been holding his won for longer than he realized. The threat is not diminished, but it has gotten substantially less prevalent.
And yet... Kyojuro has no desire to see this carnage play out. Creatures of the fog or no, they still wear his uniform. And Kyojuro cannot stomach watching his own cohort be slain, especially not for his own sake.]
Leave them. There will be more before long. We should not waste our time.
[It doesn't answer Akaza's question, but then... Kyojuro can't really be sure that he heard it to begin with.]
[kyojuro speaks, but it similarly remains to be seen whether akaza hears him. the next monster has its projectile arm ripped off, followed by its head. with the threat surrounding kyojuro, akaza doesn't even consider how he looks, massacring "people" in corps uniforms.]
Then go. I'll catch up when this filth is purged.
[he makes for yet another beast. his instinct is to aim for that very same killing spot -- but he redirects his fist at the last moment, uppercutting its face clean off of its skull.]
[Even under normal circumstances, against foes not wearing the uniform of his brethren, this would be hard to watch. Over the last few weeks, it has been almost too easy to forget what Akaza was capable of. Though Kyojuro is at least the slightest bit more aware of the situation now, it doesn't change the fact that this goes far beyond what a member of the corps would ever do to their enemies
(Shinjuro don't interact.)
Something sharp stings at the back of Kyojuro's throat. He reaches out, intending to pull back on Akaza's arm and stop the next attack -
But distracted as he is, he misses the Demon Slayer flanking them until its hand has pierced clean through Akaza's chest. In that moment, instinct takes over a second time, and Kyojuro swiftly draws his blade anew. The arm of the assault is lopped clean off, leaving Kyojur to watch as one of his "own" stumbles away, thoroughly disarmed.]
[there's a millisecond where he feels the blow, but disregards it. then he remembers that his regeneration isn't instant in this world. he remembers that he should have seen that coming. why didn't he see it? the same visceral fear that gripped him when tanjiro announced his imminent death electrifies every cell in akaza's body.
then another creature advances on kyojuro, and suddenly, the pike-arm through him doesn't seem to matter as much. he moves to punch straight through its face -- and succeeds in taking only half of its skull, because he stumbles right into its spear as well.
akaza shudders, a cough bubbling up blood. his hand slams through this monster's elbow, effectively leaving another severed hand-blade in his opposite shoulder. he looks wildly to the next creature, ready to keep fighting, even like this.
this shouldn't hinder him. he should heal in seconds. he needs -- he has to protect --]
Kyojuro -- [in warning, his eyes snap to the monster approaching kyojuro from behind, even though his own body can't move the way he needs it to, skewered like this. the act of speaking stains his lips and jaw redder, and the word is garbled.]
[Things are very swiftly going to hell. Kyojuro whips around and, before his eyes can so much as settle on the target, lops the creature's head off with first form. This time, the horror of his actions doesn't take him right away. It is far easier when he is driven by the need to protect.
And right now, Akaza needs his protection more than the reverse.
With the immediate threat dispatched, Kyojuro turns back around. There are still more slayers approaching, faces mirroring the countless children who had lived and died for the corps. Under better circumstances, if the creatures looked like the monsters they seemed to be, Kyojuro might have been able to do something. He might have even been able to fight back before Akaza even got himself into this mess, and that was to say nothing of the injuries still marring him.
But this was not a perfect world, and both men were in deep shit. As much as Kyojuro hates to admit it, this is not a fight they can win at present. Especially when Akaza's wounds weren't healing. The only thing the slayer can choose to be relieved over is the fact that Akaza hasn't ripped the spears from his body.
It gives them time to run.]
Move! [Kyojuro's words are a roar. He doesn't wait for the other man to move of his own volition, but instead grabs him by the undamaged arm and begins to pull. Where they'll go, he doesn't know. But anywhere would be better than here.]
[akaza is in no state to physically resist kyojuro. verbally, though...]
Don't -- [more choked speech, more red sprayed --] I can still --
[but he can't, can he? he can hardly fucking speak with his lung pierced through.
akaza has never run from battle. even hakuji never ran once a fight broke out. even though he knows he was wrong, he'll maintain forever that it wasn't tanjiro's threats he fled on the morning of kyojuro's passing, but the light of the sun. this feels wrong. it feels contradictory to everything he knows about himself.
but gods, he can't fucking defend kyojuro like this.
fine. a demon doesn't actually need air, and his legs still work just fine. he'll go along with kyojuro for now, and once these fucking wounds heal, he'll finish what he started.]
[It's a good thing that Akaza doesn't attempt to argue any further, because neither one of them can afford to waste their breath, nor the modicum of a lead they have on their assailants. Slow moving as they are, their sheer numbers could easily surround and overwhelm. With a path cut through, however, egress becomes a hell of a lot easier.
The path Kyojuro takes is a blind and desperate one. He sprints down one road, then shifts down an alley. Back and forth he cuts as his breathes become shallower and shallower. He isn't sure when he broke total concentration, but he'll beat himself up for that and everything else before long.
For now, he begins to slow. The sound of dragging footsteps has long been left behind them. One small miracle for the world of hurt they'd been in for so long now.
He pulls Akaza off the path they're on without thinking, all but barreling into an abandoned house. The roof is partially caved in, but the walls are intact and the windows are blissfully unbroken. He barely resists slamming the door behind him, reminding himself that the sound would only attract unwanted attention.
Part of Kyojuro wants to collapse then and there. But they are not entirely out of danger yet, are they? He turns to Akaza, fully taking in the severity of those wounds. In theory, Akaza would heal, even if it took time. The real question was how much time they had. Demons weren't supposed to need air, but so much had changed about Akaza's physiology that Kyojuro couldn't confidently say that he would be fine until then.
For now, all he can do is shove the man toward a nearby chair, and rips the nearby tablecloth from its home like an unpracticed magician. His hands begin ripping the fabric into strips. They were going to have to do this the old fashioned way.]
[if only so kyojuro continues to take himself out of danger, akaza complies. he would likely refuse to sit, were his damned legs not shaking for the first time in his memory. everything about this is so goddamned wrong.
he swipes a hand in kyojuro's direction, waving him off, and disturbing his wounds in the process.]
Don't. I'll just -- wait. I'll know wh-- when it's time. [he feels fucking pitiful, barely able to choke out a sentence. it should be the human, not the demon, brought to his knees and incapable of fighting.
but that thought isn't his, right? it's only written into his body, like the need to inhale as deeply as he can, to determine whether the blood all over kyojuro is the man's own, or that of the monsters.
he doesn't know. he doesn't know anymore, where akaza ends and hakuji begins.]
[Kyojuro would laugh, if things did not feel so damn dire. The way Akaza moves, tearing open wounds left and right, feels like it runs parallel to the slayer's own stubbornness just a few weeks prior. But it's hard to tell exactly how long it's been since then. Certainly, his chest still aches like everything is fresh.
But fine, he will listen to Akaza, because at the end of the day — he knows himself best. Even still, Kyojuro won't just let him run about. He pulls up a chair, sitting across from the demon, but ultimately makes no move to bandage him further.
On one condition.]
Do not move. You'll reopen your wounds.
[No sooner do the words leave his mouth does Kyojuro wince. This, too, runs parallel to another moment between them. Screaming at Tanjiro to remain still, to tend to himself rather than worrying over the Hashira. Doubtless, Akaza remembers it too.]
We know not how your body has changed. So please. Do not push it.
[He keeps his tone steady, even as he tries to force his breathing to do the same. If he can't busy his hands, then the least he can do is try to put his own body back together.]
[being ordered around doesn't have the usual pull on akaza. he inhales sharply and huffs at the commands, which in turn, defies them and makes him snarl at the jostling of the arms.
still, he obeys. he glares toward the entrance silently with gritted, bloody fangs.
for a time, at least. when it becomes clear they're no longer under immediate assault, akaza glances back at kyojuro and actually takes the time to observe him. his brows turn up, and he tries to see if -- maybe -- talking softer will make it less difficult.]
You... [his intake of air is still raspy, and he still has to swallow down his own blood. no matter. it isn't forever.] Your breathing... changed.
[Though Kyojuro's eyes narrow, he opts not to outright scold Akaza for the blunder. He is trying, that much is obvious. And unlike with Tanjiro, the mistake probably won't kill him. The fact that, at the very least, his companion does actively settle down is enough.
Even if he hates the sight of that bloodied mouth, or those labored breaths. Akaza might notice the way Kyojuro's attention briefly shifts, glancing to the side as if hearing a disturbance. But the only noise is the one in Kyojuro's own head.
You'll fail. You always will.]
It did. [The words come slow, hesitant even.] Maintaining total concentration with my old injuries as they are is difficult. Pairing that with running, and what breathing I did perform, made it impossible to maintain in that moment.
[But the longer he speaks, the more time that passes, the easier it becomes to regulate once more.]
[of course. even healed to the point they were upon his arrival, kyojuro's wounds were far beyond what any normal human could sustain. even a master swordsman like him continues to struggle in their wake.
akaza truly brought this great man low.]
It's... better, now? [his focus is so intent on kyojuro that he doesn't yet realize his cells should, by now, be ready to repair themselves.]
It is. [No lies here, Akaza can surely hear the way he's settled into a much steadier, deeper pattern.] So do not spare a single speck of energy, worrying over me, Akaza. You must focus on your own recovery.
[Being that he was gone when Akaza finally managed to regenerate his arm last time, he doesn't now exactly how long it was meant to take. But surely this was reaching the upper limit, considering how long they had run for.]
[his eyes roll. kyojuro is so earnest it's nonsensical.]
Worry doesn't... take up energy. [and yet, the longer he sits there, the more taut his brows pull. his severed arm had certainly begun to regrow more quickly than this. even with the objects still lodged in him, he should be able to feel his body's willingness to work with him.
perhaps it's another of this world's inconveniences?
akaza lifts his good arm to grasp at the blade in his shoulder, to pull at it just so. when it budges, more blood seeps out of raw flesh that decidedly does not yet knit itself back together. this time when he bares his teeth, it's in fury at the situation.]
[But before even a hint of playful ribbing can emerge, Kyojuro notes the way Akaza's own demeanor shifts. He starts as Akaza tugs at that horrid appendage, and then bites back the urge to swear as yet more blood oozes from the wound.
His mind runs through the possibilities. He wonders if the slayers wounds had been tipped with some sort of poison. Shinobu's own works could inhibit the healing factor of the demons she'd come across. But there was no smell of wisteria in the air, or anything else for that matter.]
Perhaps... with things as they are, you cannot heal in this state?
[It's the only thing that comes to mind at present, though he doubts he's on the right track.]
And... what? You think I'm going to bleed out like some sort of -- human?
[maybe the last word comes out a little too biting, but akaza is too caught up in his frustration to correct himself. this is infuriating.
his grip tightens, and there's only a fraction of a second where kyojuro might see akaza steel himself before he wholesale rips the entire limb from his shoulder and throws it on the ground. the gaping hole left behind splatters thick blood onto his lap, the chair, the floor. akaza's muscles all strain as he grinds his teeth and puts all of his energy into willing the damn wound to fucking close already.
just when it seems it'll never happen, his flesh begins to bubble and warp. from the innermost point, muscle and ligament stretches the span of the gap and slowly fills it in.]
[Given the abrupt way Akaza wrenches the limb from his flesh, Kyojuro cannot even begin to prepare himself for the sight. As it is, he can only watch in horror as blood continues to burble forth. He counts the seconds, one, three, ten, loses count and starts again. But the blood keeps coming until -
Finally, finally things begin to be put right. He doesn't break concentration to sigh his relief, but he damn well might have, given the way his shoulders loosen. Now the only thing to be done is to figure out why it was so delayed this go round. Aside from poison, the only reason he's ever heard of healing being delayed was when a demon was starved and -
The thought hits Kyojuro like a train. Abruptly, he finds his fingers curling into his palms as a sickening feeling begins to coil within his gut. It takes a surprising amount of focus to keep his tone even.]
Akaza. When was the last time you... consumed anything?
[ah. the concept that akaza tries so desperately to avoid, but can never quite seem to do so. his eyes widen at the fact that kyojuro picks up on this, then immediately dart away in shame -- for his biology or having kept from its upkeep, he isn't certain.]
... The circus. Near the beginning, for a day, they had... flesh.
[one month (maybe two, he isn't certain of time in this place) going hungry is not the end of the world for a demon, least of all for an upper moon with his restraint. even so, akaza isn't at his full strength in this forest -- another thing he doesn't want to admit to himself. his extant wound still stubbornly refusing to heal makes it all the more difficult to pretend he won't need to feed again soon.]
[surely, there's no chance in hell that rengoku kyojuro, a former hashira of the demon slayer corps, will be cross with a demon for not consuming human flesh. surely. so why is it still impossible for akaza to meet his eyes?]
[What a world they seem to live in now. Something sickly surges through Kyojuro, first at the admission, and second at the resulting anger he does indeed feel. In any sane universe, he might have sighed his relief that Akaza had been holding back. If nothing else, it means he's serious about the leaf that he's overturned.
But there are so many cascading consequences for the other man's resistance, none the least of which is his currently ailing form. And for what, Kyojuro can't help but wonder?
Kyojuro makes no attempt to hide the way his jaw clenches as he speaks. His fingers bunch the fabric of his cloth around his knees.]
And what, then, were you planning on eating while we were here?
[nothing, is what his eyes say, but he knows better than to speak it out loud, to admit that he would rather wait until he loses his senses with hunger so desperate it turns him into nothing more than a mindless killing machine than willingly partake in flesh provided by kyojuro.
he could swear there was somewhere he could check, if he wanted to, a possible source from which to procure something so taboo... but for the life of him, akaza can't remember where.]
I told you... I didn't want to be the reason you -- betrayed yourself.
[It is a difficult conversation to have, with their memories so altered. Still, Kyojuro knows himself, and can at least speak for the logic that guided him in that moment. Maybe it's the same argument as before, but surely it still stands.]
Nothing I did would sacrifice my morals. I did not cut up a human and willingly serve them to you. I did not lead someone to their doom. I found something that already existed, and handed it over to you.
[For nothing. Worse than nothing. At this rate, Akaza was going to either keel over from wounds that would not heal, that would continue to weaken him until something else could pick him off, or he would lose himself.
And Kyojuro would not be able to stay his hand if anyone else came under fire.]
You are going to lose control, Akaza. Whether it is a few hours or a few weeks, it matters not. Denying yourself this is only going to cause more fallout. I told you before, I can forgive you for what was done to me. But if you lay a hand on someone here? Someone that I have trusted you to protect.
[He wants to believe — no, he knows that Akaza would not harm anyone in his right mind. But right mind is the key word there, and he is not certain how much longer that sanity will hold out.]
[toward the end of kyojuro's words, akaza finally manages to make eye contact, if only out of respect for what he has to say. it doesn't seem like they will ever agree on the former matter, but this latter one... his mind is made up rather easily, after all.]
That'll take... weeks. Months, even. And I -- swear to you, Kyojuro. I will face the sun, before I let that happen.
[his head hangs as he resumes staring at the limb still lodged in his chest. his cells still stubbornly refuse to regenerate just yet, but he's sure it's only a matter of time.]
ii :)
oh, well. frustrating as it is, he can do things the human way -- avoid his own monsters (he can't bring himself to engage them, just like that thing in the circus depths, he can't) and run around blindly.
then -- he sees it. that distinct blaze, flaring to life in combat. akaza beelines for kyojuro, and when the mist breaks, he happens upon the former hashira's assailants.
at this range, he can tell with his compass exactly what they're aiming for. akaza isn't stupid; the things that have chased him in this place are the same people, the same regrets, the same traumas he still hasn't accepted, that he's been running from for centuries. to akaza, this can only mean one thing, as far as kyojuro is concerned.
he hones in on the next monster readying an attack and leaps toward it, roundhouse kicking the fucking thing with so much force that the creature is cleaved in two at the waist. it matters not whether the things appear like demons or slayers; there is no mercy, no regret in his eyes, only the ferocity of a territorial beast. he doesn't even look at kyojuro as he locks in on the next creature.]
Are you hurt?
[he doesn't smell kyojuro's blood, but he doesn't know for certain whether or not his senses can be trusted here.]
no subject
And Kyojuro? Kyojuro doesn't know how to react.
Instinct has driven him over the last few minutes, and this is no different. Time and time again, he's come across this scene — too late to save his own kin, but stll on time to slay the monster who created the mess. It's no surprise that every muscle in his body begs for him to cut, slice, slay just as he was taught.
For a split second, Kyojuro grips his blade hard enough to make his knuckles ache. The demon doesn't even look at him. It would be easy, so easy to cut through that neck and end this madness.
But then that voice cuts through if not the fog in the town, then at least the one within his mind. In that single second, the world shifts itself, and he remembers. The slayers had been the one to try and kill them, and the demon —
No. Akaza. He's spent weeks correcting even his very mind, because the man he'd come to consider a friend had stepped beyond what Kyojuro had ever understood to be a demon. This is not his enemy.
This is his friend. The closest one he has at this point.]
Akaza - [If Kyojuro sounds breathless, it's because he'd been holding his won for longer than he realized. The threat is not diminished, but it has gotten substantially less prevalent.
And yet... Kyojuro has no desire to see this carnage play out. Creatures of the fog or no, they still wear his uniform. And Kyojuro cannot stomach watching his own cohort be slain, especially not for his own sake.]
Leave them. There will be more before long. We should not waste our time.
[It doesn't answer Akaza's question, but then... Kyojuro can't really be sure that he heard it to begin with.]
cw uh violence. dismemberment. akaza is not ok
Then go. I'll catch up when this filth is purged.
[he makes for yet another beast. his instinct is to aim for that very same killing spot -- but he redirects his fist at the last moment, uppercutting its face clean off of its skull.]
CW: Dismemberment/amputation
(Shinjuro don't interact.)
Something sharp stings at the back of Kyojuro's throat. He reaches out, intending to pull back on Akaza's arm and stop the next attack -
But distracted as he is, he misses the Demon Slayer flanking them until its hand has pierced clean through Akaza's chest. In that moment, instinct takes over a second time, and Kyojuro swiftly draws his blade anew. The arm of the assault is lopped clean off, leaving Kyojur to watch as one of his "own" stumbles away, thoroughly disarmed.]
my how the donuts turntable :)
then another creature advances on kyojuro, and suddenly, the pike-arm through him doesn't seem to matter as much. he moves to punch straight through its face -- and succeeds in taking only half of its skull, because he stumbles right into its spear as well.
akaza shudders, a cough bubbling up blood. his hand slams through this monster's elbow, effectively leaving another severed hand-blade in his opposite shoulder. he looks wildly to the next creature, ready to keep fighting, even like this.
this shouldn't hinder him. he should heal in seconds. he needs -- he has to protect --]
Kyojuro -- [in warning, his eyes snap to the monster approaching kyojuro from behind, even though his own body can't move the way he needs it to, skewered like this. the act of speaking stains his lips and jaw redder, and the word is garbled.]
no subject
And right now, Akaza needs his protection more than the reverse.
With the immediate threat dispatched, Kyojuro turns back around. There are still more slayers approaching, faces mirroring the countless children who had lived and died for the corps. Under better circumstances, if the creatures looked like the monsters they seemed to be, Kyojuro might have been able to do something. He might have even been able to fight back before Akaza even got himself into this mess, and that was to say nothing of the injuries still marring him.
But this was not a perfect world, and both men were in deep shit. As much as Kyojuro hates to admit it, this is not a fight they can win at present. Especially when Akaza's wounds weren't healing. The only thing the slayer can choose to be relieved over is the fact that Akaza hasn't ripped the spears from his body.
It gives them time to run.]
Move! [Kyojuro's words are a roar. He doesn't wait for the other man to move of his own volition, but instead grabs him by the undamaged arm and begins to pull. Where they'll go, he doesn't know. But anywhere would be better than here.]
no subject
Don't -- [more choked speech, more red sprayed --] I can still --
[but he can't, can he? he can hardly fucking speak with his lung pierced through.
akaza has never run from battle. even hakuji never ran once a fight broke out. even though he knows he was wrong, he'll maintain forever that it wasn't tanjiro's threats he fled on the morning of kyojuro's passing, but the light of the sun. this feels wrong. it feels contradictory to everything he knows about himself.
but gods, he can't fucking defend kyojuro like this.
fine. a demon doesn't actually need air, and his legs still work just fine. he'll go along with kyojuro for now, and once these fucking wounds heal, he'll finish what he started.]
no subject
The path Kyojuro takes is a blind and desperate one. He sprints down one road, then shifts down an alley. Back and forth he cuts as his breathes become shallower and shallower. He isn't sure when he broke total concentration, but he'll beat himself up for that and everything else before long.
For now, he begins to slow. The sound of dragging footsteps has long been left behind them. One small miracle for the world of hurt they'd been in for so long now.
He pulls Akaza off the path they're on without thinking, all but barreling into an abandoned house. The roof is partially caved in, but the walls are intact and the windows are blissfully unbroken. He barely resists slamming the door behind him, reminding himself that the sound would only attract unwanted attention.
Part of Kyojuro wants to collapse then and there. But they are not entirely out of danger yet, are they? He turns to Akaza, fully taking in the severity of those wounds. In theory, Akaza would heal, even if it took time. The real question was how much time they had. Demons weren't supposed to need air, but so much had changed about Akaza's physiology that Kyojuro couldn't confidently say that he would be fine until then.
For now, all he can do is shove the man toward a nearby chair, and rips the nearby tablecloth from its home like an unpracticed magician. His hands begin ripping the fabric into strips. They were going to have to do this the old fashioned way.]
no subject
he swipes a hand in kyojuro's direction, waving him off, and disturbing his wounds in the process.]
Don't. I'll just -- wait. I'll know wh-- when it's time. [he feels fucking pitiful, barely able to choke out a sentence. it should be the human, not the demon, brought to his knees and incapable of fighting.
but that thought isn't his, right? it's only written into his body, like the need to inhale as deeply as he can, to determine whether the blood all over kyojuro is the man's own, or that of the monsters.
he doesn't know. he doesn't know anymore, where akaza ends and hakuji begins.]
no subject
But fine, he will listen to Akaza, because at the end of the day — he knows himself best. Even still, Kyojuro won't just let him run about. He pulls up a chair, sitting across from the demon, but ultimately makes no move to bandage him further.
On one condition.]
Do not move. You'll reopen your wounds.
[No sooner do the words leave his mouth does Kyojuro wince. This, too, runs parallel to another moment between them. Screaming at Tanjiro to remain still, to tend to himself rather than worrying over the Hashira. Doubtless, Akaza remembers it too.]
We know not how your body has changed. So please. Do not push it.
[He keeps his tone steady, even as he tries to force his breathing to do the same. If he can't busy his hands, then the least he can do is try to put his own body back together.]
no subject
still, he obeys. he glares toward the entrance silently with gritted, bloody fangs.
for a time, at least. when it becomes clear they're no longer under immediate assault, akaza glances back at kyojuro and actually takes the time to observe him. his brows turn up, and he tries to see if -- maybe -- talking softer will make it less difficult.]
You... [his intake of air is still raspy, and he still has to swallow down his own blood. no matter. it isn't forever.] Your breathing... changed.
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Even if he hates the sight of that bloodied mouth, or those labored breaths. Akaza might notice the way Kyojuro's attention briefly shifts, glancing to the side as if hearing a disturbance. But the only noise is the one in Kyojuro's own head.
You'll fail. You always will.]
It did. [The words come slow, hesitant even.] Maintaining total concentration with my old injuries as they are is difficult. Pairing that with running, and what breathing I did perform, made it impossible to maintain in that moment.
[But the longer he speaks, the more time that passes, the easier it becomes to regulate once more.]
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akaza truly brought this great man low.]
It's... better, now? [his focus is so intent on kyojuro that he doesn't yet realize his cells should, by now, be ready to repair themselves.]
no subject
[Being that he was gone when Akaza finally managed to regenerate his arm last time, he doesn't now exactly how long it was meant to take. But surely this was reaching the upper limit, considering how long they had run for.]
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Worry doesn't... take up energy. [and yet, the longer he sits there, the more taut his brows pull. his severed arm had certainly begun to regrow more quickly than this. even with the objects still lodged in him, he should be able to feel his body's willingness to work with him.
perhaps it's another of this world's inconveniences?
akaza lifts his good arm to grasp at the blade in his shoulder, to pull at it just so. when it budges, more blood seeps out of raw flesh that decidedly does not yet knit itself back together. this time when he bares his teeth, it's in fury at the situation.]
Damn it... What the hell?
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[But before even a hint of playful ribbing can emerge, Kyojuro notes the way Akaza's own demeanor shifts. He starts as Akaza tugs at that horrid appendage, and then bites back the urge to swear as yet more blood oozes from the wound.
His mind runs through the possibilities. He wonders if the slayers wounds had been tipped with some sort of poison. Shinobu's own works could inhibit the healing factor of the demons she'd come across. But there was no smell of wisteria in the air, or anything else for that matter.]
Perhaps... with things as they are, you cannot heal in this state?
[It's the only thing that comes to mind at present, though he doubts he's on the right track.]
cw the Blood 'n Such™
[maybe the last word comes out a little too biting, but akaza is too caught up in his frustration to correct himself. this is infuriating.
his grip tightens, and there's only a fraction of a second where kyojuro might see akaza steel himself before he wholesale rips the entire limb from his shoulder and throws it on the ground. the gaping hole left behind splatters thick blood onto his lap, the chair, the floor. akaza's muscles all strain as he grinds his teeth and puts all of his energy into willing the damn wound to fucking close already.
just when it seems it'll never happen, his flesh begins to bubble and warp. from the innermost point, muscle and ligament stretches the span of the gap and slowly fills it in.]
yeah it's cws all the way down at this point
Finally, finally things begin to be put right. He doesn't break concentration to sigh his relief, but he damn well might have, given the way his shoulders loosen. Now the only thing to be done is to figure out why it was so delayed this go round. Aside from poison, the only reason he's ever heard of healing being delayed was when a demon was starved and -
The thought hits Kyojuro like a train. Abruptly, he finds his fingers curling into his palms as a sickening feeling begins to coil within his gut. It takes a surprising amount of focus to keep his tone even.]
Akaza. When was the last time you... consumed anything?
cw cannibalism
... The circus. Near the beginning, for a day, they had... flesh.
[one month (maybe two, he isn't certain of time in this place) going hungry is not the end of the world for a demon, least of all for an upper moon with his restraint. even so, akaza isn't at his full strength in this forest -- another thing he doesn't want to admit to himself. his extant wound still stubbornly refusing to heal makes it all the more difficult to pretend he won't need to feed again soon.]
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Then what I gave you...?
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I -- left it behind.
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But there are so many cascading consequences for the other man's resistance, none the least of which is his currently ailing form. And for what, Kyojuro can't help but wonder?
Kyojuro makes no attempt to hide the way his jaw clenches as he speaks. His fingers bunch the fabric of his cloth around his knees.]
And what, then, were you planning on eating while we were here?
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he could swear there was somewhere he could check, if he wanted to, a possible source from which to procure something so taboo... but for the life of him, akaza can't remember where.]
I told you... I didn't want to be the reason you -- betrayed yourself.
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Nothing I did would sacrifice my morals. I did not cut up a human and willingly serve them to you. I did not lead someone to their doom. I found something that already existed, and handed it over to you.
[For nothing. Worse than nothing. At this rate, Akaza was going to either keel over from wounds that would not heal, that would continue to weaken him until something else could pick him off, or he would lose himself.
And Kyojuro would not be able to stay his hand if anyone else came under fire.]
You are going to lose control, Akaza. Whether it is a few hours or a few weeks, it matters not. Denying yourself this is only going to cause more fallout. I told you before, I can forgive you for what was done to me. But if you lay a hand on someone here? Someone that I have trusted you to protect.
[He wants to believe — no, he knows that Akaza would not harm anyone in his right mind. But right mind is the key word there, and he is not certain how much longer that sanity will hold out.]
I will never forgive you. Is that clear?
cw suicide mention
That'll take... weeks. Months, even. And I -- swear to you, Kyojuro. I will face the sun, before I let that happen.
[his head hangs as he resumes staring at the limb still lodged in his chest. his cells still stubbornly refuse to regenerate just yet, but he's sure it's only a matter of time.]
... Leave me. I'll... figure something out.
cw suicide mention, self-harm
cw suicide ideation, self harm
cw suicide ideation, self harm
cw suicide ideation
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cw gross i'm so sorry
cw that's kinda hot
LKADJFAS
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