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hh_mirror2006-10-24 03:50 am
polite-sinner.livejournal.com) wrote in hh_mirror2006-10-24 03:50 am
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Closed RP: Hakkai and the fluffy kittens, only not really
((Backdated to right after Josh's sorting.))
Hakkai, to put it succinctly, looked like he had been through hell, or possibly worse -- which he had been once, months and months ago, but he thought he had moved on since then. Or more accurately, he had repressed the memories just enough to allow him to function from day to day, to live something as close to a normal life as someone like him was capable of living.
Strange how just one short conversation could completely shake the grip he had over reality. Not that he had ever had much of a grip on it to begin with, honestly. It was really more of a sort of mutual agreement between himself and his sanity to remain within reaching distance of one another. But right now, it was currently inching just a little farther to the left than Hakkai was comfortable with.
As he made his way back to the Ravenclaw tower, he was only distantly aware of the fact that Sanzo was somewhere behind him; the part of him that acknowledged his presence waved it off as an act of preemptive damage control (I'm not going to do anything, it's fine it's fine everything is fine stop following me like I'm a rabid dog), and he sped up his step in an unconscious attempt to lose the monk. His hand kneaded the scar on his stomach, trying to ease some imagined ache that had been slowly intensifying ever since he had spoken with -- with him. He half expected to feel blood flowing over his fingers and was (disappointed, relieved,) confused when he didn't.
He couldn't remember how long it had been since he had left the Sorting Room, but it couldn't have been more than five or ten (or fifteen?) minutes -- and as he stumbled out of a hallway onto the landing of a staircase, he realized he had only managed to go around in one large and time-consuming circle. With the realization came a sudden loss of strength, and Hakkai pressed his back against a wall, slowly sinking to the floor. He wrapped one arm around his middle and brought his knees up, curling around the phantom pain of his old wound. And not for the first time in his life, Hakkai felt completely and utterly lost and helpless.
((Warning: The following events are not intended for viewers under the (emotional and mental) age of ten. No kittens were harmed or even present during the filming of this episode. For best results, take with a healthy does of wangsty music and water.))
Hakkai, to put it succinctly, looked like he had been through hell, or possibly worse -- which he had been once, months and months ago, but he thought he had moved on since then. Or more accurately, he had repressed the memories just enough to allow him to function from day to day, to live something as close to a normal life as someone like him was capable of living.
Strange how just one short conversation could completely shake the grip he had over reality. Not that he had ever had much of a grip on it to begin with, honestly. It was really more of a sort of mutual agreement between himself and his sanity to remain within reaching distance of one another. But right now, it was currently inching just a little farther to the left than Hakkai was comfortable with.
As he made his way back to the Ravenclaw tower, he was only distantly aware of the fact that Sanzo was somewhere behind him; the part of him that acknowledged his presence waved it off as an act of preemptive damage control (I'm not going to do anything, it's fine it's fine everything is fine stop following me like I'm a rabid dog), and he sped up his step in an unconscious attempt to lose the monk. His hand kneaded the scar on his stomach, trying to ease some imagined ache that had been slowly intensifying ever since he had spoken with -- with him. He half expected to feel blood flowing over his fingers and was (disappointed, relieved,) confused when he didn't.
He couldn't remember how long it had been since he had left the Sorting Room, but it couldn't have been more than five or ten (or fifteen?) minutes -- and as he stumbled out of a hallway onto the landing of a staircase, he realized he had only managed to go around in one large and time-consuming circle. With the realization came a sudden loss of strength, and Hakkai pressed his back against a wall, slowly sinking to the floor. He wrapped one arm around his middle and brought his knees up, curling around the phantom pain of his old wound. And not for the first time in his life, Hakkai felt completely and utterly lost and helpless.
((Warning: The following events are not intended for viewers under the (emotional and mental) age of ten. No kittens were harmed or even present during the filming of this episode. For best results, take with a healthy does of wangsty music and water.))
no subject
He was halfway to reaching back for his topmost pillow when Hakkai voiced his thoughts. Of all the questions he could have asked, that was among the very last Gojyo had expected him to. The alcohol was obviously affecting him for once, and it might have been amusing to observe how a tipsy Hakkai acted if not for the morbid direction his thoughts had taken.
Pillow forgotten, Gojyo let his hand fall back to the bed and brought his cigarette to his lips with the other. Taking a long drag, he exhaled the smoke slowly and no longer looked at either of them, instead focussing on the ashtray in his lap. He'd already wasted enough of his time and energy thinking about, worrying about, dreading -- what it would be like if his mother came back. Nothing would be different. The second she'd see him, she'd recognise him, and would most likely try to finish the job. He wasn't sure what would happen if no one was there to stop her.
At least he couldn't die on school grounds. Not even with an ax embedded in his neck. Hopefully.
Jien was a completely different story. Gojyo still hoped to one day find him, and meeting him at Hogwarts would be a stroke of good luck. He couldn't be sure that Jien wouldn't blame him for everything that happened years ago, but he had a feeling that, with enough time and after getting reacquainted with each other again, things might just be okay, or as okay as they ever could be. And maybe he was delusional.
"She'd still hate me," he said suddenly, ignoring the tightness in his chest as he stubbed out what was left of his cigarette and lit another. Sanzo hadn't elaborated on his answer in the least, and Gojyo felt awkward being the one to give more than a monosyllable response, but continued regardless. Maybe it would encourage Hakkai to answer as well. "Don't know about my brother. He might be surprised to find me alive. I know I would be." He was smiling faintly as he tilted his head back to look at the ceiling again, imagining what it would be like to introduce Jien to them one day.