鳴上 悠 [Narukami Yu] (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
pitiedthefool) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
sunset_horizons2014-02-24 04:30 am
pitiedthefool) wrote in sunset_horizons2014-02-24 04:30 am
XVII ☆ Sacred Distance
Who: Yu Narukami
Where: The Tower Graveyard
Warnings: Feels punches and protags; they go hand-in-hand.
There was no telling how long he had been there in the wastes, watching silently as time passed. Every second only meant another passed that he could do nothing, and that meant that he would likely be soon used as some power source and die like his friends. In fact, part of him started to wish for it.
Yet didn't that also mean that all hope for his world, the one that they had spent so much energy in an attempt to protect and save it, and all the efforts of the others - would it have been all for nothing? What was he supposed to do if he couldn't even protect those who called him their leader?
Or... any of his most precious friends...
His mind would always wander back, to that hellish place where he himself learned again of what emptiness Adachi had spoken of what seems like an eternity ago. He understood that mindset now, but hated it all the same. There were just some things that months - maybe even years for all he knew - could never change. He would never fall into the same mindset, nor forgive himself for killing due to games in the tower. Though the look on Jason's face was priceless.
Though waking up in the stark contrast of white, finding oneself on apod bed and wearing the white jumpsuit...
...
The moment he could move again, he tookthe jumpsuit that looked like his old school jacket out of the chest next to what was likely his new pod bed, ignored the notes, and headed downstairs. Who knew how much time passed. That didn't matter so much to him. What mattered was how many of the social links he could sense again once he awakened.
A few of them were still there - who knows if they remembered or not, and what all changed - and he needed to know for sure who it was that still were around. The fastest way? Checking to see who weren't. After all, who knew if they changed a few rooms around again?
So he found himself silently stopping by the graveyard. Silently, because part of him may have forgotten how to words, and another of who would he even speak to? Phantoms?
...Heeeee'd rather not.
Instead he stands by his uncle from another universe's tombstone, simply staring at it for a moment. Should have guessed he and the others - except one of the Yukikos, it seems - wouldn't be here. Even Naoto and Yosuke, who had been here for so much longer than him.
...But what was that in front of a blank tombstone between Dojima-san's and Rise's?
He bends down to study it, a little confused for a moment as he looks at the intricate design of what appears to be some sort of seashell. He'd never seen one with colors like this, and for a while he wondered who it was left for. Not who left it, because that one was literally on the tip of his tongue.]
"...Xion?"
Where: The Tower Graveyard
Warnings: Feels punches and protags; they go hand-in-hand.
There was no telling how long he had been there in the wastes, watching silently as time passed. Every second only meant another passed that he could do nothing, and that meant that he would likely be soon used as some power source and die like his friends. In fact, part of him started to wish for it.
Yet didn't that also mean that all hope for his world, the one that they had spent so much energy in an attempt to protect and save it, and all the efforts of the others - would it have been all for nothing? What was he supposed to do if he couldn't even protect those who called him their leader?
Or... any of his most precious friends...
His mind would always wander back, to that hellish place where he himself learned again of what emptiness Adachi had spoken of what seems like an eternity ago. He understood that mindset now, but hated it all the same. There were just some things that months - maybe even years for all he knew - could never change. He would never fall into the same mindset, nor forgive himself for killing due to games in the tower. Though the look on Jason's face was priceless.
Though waking up in the stark contrast of white, finding oneself on a
...
The moment he could move again, he took
A few of them were still there - who knows if they remembered or not, and what all changed - and he needed to know for sure who it was that still were around. The fastest way? Checking to see who weren't. After all, who knew if they changed a few rooms around again?
So he found himself silently stopping by the graveyard. Silently, because part of him may have forgotten how to words, and another of who would he even speak to? Phantoms?
...Heeeee'd rather not.
Instead he stands by his uncle from another universe's tombstone, simply staring at it for a moment. Should have guessed he and the others - except one of the Yukikos, it seems - wouldn't be here. Even Naoto and Yosuke, who had been here for so much longer than him.
...But what was that in front of a blank tombstone between Dojima-san's and Rise's?
He bends down to study it, a little confused for a moment as he looks at the intricate design of what appears to be some sort of seashell. He'd never seen one with colors like this, and for a while he wondered who it was left for. Not who left it, because that one was literally on the tip of his tongue.]
"...Xion?"
no subject
It was someone so casually, so uncertainly, using his first name.
Every time he thought he would hear their voices, calling out for him... it was always his last name. His family's name. He was almost certain this wasn't a dream, like those times always were. There were also only a handful of souls left who would call him that.]
...Xion?
[He turns around and, just as though he'd never left... he was there. He was there before the reminders of the friends who had been there before, of those that needed to be protected, standing as he always did. ...Albeit quieter, and likely more hoarse for not speaking for months.]
Xion!
[> You get the succinct feeling as though you should brace yourself...]
no subject
[That's a very good feeling Yu. Because two seconds later, the watering can is hitting the floor and she's flying across the distance separating them, tacking him in a cling-hug.
As with Reno, it's the contact that confirms to her that this really is real. That he's solid, this isn't a dream, and he's really here.]
You're here.
[Stating the obvious, perhaps, but those two words, those two simple words, are so momentous to her, judging by the way they shake.]
insert xion where chie is it's literally him rn
Yet when her arms wrap around him he can't help but acknowledge just how real it is. Not a dream, not just another instance where he thought it was real but knew once he'd "awoken" he'd find himself alone again, but honest-to-gods really happening.]
I am.
[He really was and he's still trying to wrap his mind around it, just as he's found himself holding onto Xion for what seems like dear life. Because not alone; not alone is good.]
And vice versa
And yet he'd lived that for months now. It must have been awful, with awful only beginning to really describe it. Add that to what Dax had said, about what Ruana would want to do to all the people who'd vanished to their homeworlds?
Xion buries her face in his shoulder, letting his jacket catch any tears that fell. Her voice is muffled when she speaks.]
I-I was so worried. [Her hands tighten their grip] I'm so glad you're back.
no subject
Hopefully his slight turning his face to her head and a slight nod was enough to say "me too," because he really is glad to be back...and just can't find words enough to express it.]
no subject
I guess you're glad, too?
[Beyond that, she doesn't push him, or anything. She's content to wait, content to stay where she is, until whenever he feels ready.]
no subject
Y-yeah...
[At least it's a start.]
It's just... weird to talk again.
[After so long without a single whisper of others...]
no subject
[Oh light he's smiling and he's talking to her and he's really here. Noticing the watery eyes, she pulls a hand back and half-reaches up to brush at his face, almost as if to wipe away a tear that isn't there. She seems to realize this at the last moment though and aborts the motion, letting her wrist rest on top of his shoulder instead as she turns slightly pink.
She hastily changes the topic.]
When did you get here?