recountal | reunion;;

reunion;;

Yukimura Residence.
Edo, Japan, January 1864.

[The years have stretched on and on, agonizingly slowly. Part of it is because Chizuru lacks the child-like lack of perspective that makes time fly by so quickly in the earliest years; mostly, it's because the Nagumo are so very cruel. Time flies when one is having fun, but among that clan...

This is the first opportunity she's had in years to even consider a visit to Edo, and though she might pay for it later, she doesn't care. There's something she has to do here, and so here she is, dressed in the finery one would expect of the wife of the young master of the Nagumo. Perhaps it's strange, to see such a finely-dressed young lady in front of the humble Yukimura clinic.

She doesn't care. She just doesn't care.

She is stopped, outside the house, because it's both familiar and unfamiliar at the same time. The house looks mostly the same, but the subtle differences, are they there because it's not her that's living there? All the touches of a young woman are gone. Chizuru has never lived here, but Kaoru has, and -

The differences are Kaoru's touch. That eases the knot of tension in her gut the slightest bit and gives her the courage to move forward, to call into the house as though she's a patient and this is a perfectly normal visit.]

Excuse me? I was wondering if perhaps I might speak with Yukimura-sensei...

[He won't be here. She's sure he won't, sure she's remembered the timing because her memories are all that's gotten her through the years at the hands of those horrible people, but that's okay. He isn't the one she is here to see.

She's depending on the fact that it will be Kaoru who will answer her call.]

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[Barely noticeable, but noticeable enough; Chizuru watches Kaoru carefully, after all, even when she doesn't seem to be. She just can't get enough of seeing the person that her brother has grown into - of seeing him go about routines that don't involve pandering to the whims of the Nagumo, tailoring his every move and gesture, always walking on eggshells to ensure something terrible won't happen to him.

So of course she notices when he stills, because that is something at odds with eating a peach. Snacks that he enjoys (and she knows he enjoys them) shouldn't do that to him. She is tense and alert, and when he chokes, she leans over to put a hand on his back, her voice low and urgent and worried.]

Kaoru—? What's wrong?

[Was there something bad in the peach? Is he ill? ...or is this something like not too long before, when he'd spoken words so much more in line with the person he used to be? Is this some residual influence of his past life, of his life in the castle...?]

[the question is met with a shake of his head, and he forces himself to choke down the peach in his mouth before setting what's left of his half off to the side.]

It's— just a little sour, that's all. I must have picked ones that weren't fully ripened yet... I'm sorry for worrying you.

[if she tries her half, though, she'll find that it's actually incredibly sweet - as a peach of that size during this time of the year naturally would be. he doesn't seem inclined to pick it back up again, though, and there's a bit of a distracted air to the way he speaks and holds himself. it's clear that he's trying to shake whatever bizarreness that had been away, well away, and he shifts to pick up his spoon instead.

if nothing else, he's sure that the warmth and good taste of one of his favorite comfort foods will help. he's pleased to see steam release when he sinks the spoon into the custard, glad that it hasn't cooled off too much.]

[She isn't sure that's all it is. She wants to say so, but she also doesn't want Kaoru to think that she's doubting him, so she just files it away for future reference and makes a mental note to keep an eye on him for anything else that might seem odd.

...if the producers have done something, can she really justify leaving him in a week? If whatever it is strikes him while she's gone—

No, she doesn't want him to have to face anything unpleasant alone. That had been the whole point of all of this - to spare him from unpleasantries, to put him in a position where he would have a loving family and friends so he wouldn't ever have to be alone if something unpleasant did happen.

So what can she do?

...she looks more than a little anxious as she watches him sink his spoon into the custard. Her own peach half and her own serving of odamaki-mushi go untouched, for the moment.]

[unlike the peach, Kaoru takes his first bite of odamaki-mushi and it seems as though nothing is wrong with it at all. he savors the rich and familiar flavor of the eggy broth beneath the custard, humming in a content sort of way. there's the barest of that same buzz in the back of his mind from before, but it's easy to ignore for the time being, soft in the face of nostalgia.

he can't really recall it clearly, but it tastes so homey and comforting that he wonders how he managed to go so long without it.]

This turned out really well... [he sounds quite pleased with that, too, considering this is their joint cooking effort! and they did good!! he glances over to the side to see if Chizuru likes hers just as much, except...

well, she sure isn't eating anything. this has his brow furrowing upward a little in an expression of concern, and he lowers his spoon, already half-way toward scooping up one of the quail eggs.]

Are you all right?

[She hadn't expected Kaoru to notice how carefully she was watching him (even though the staring was blatantly obvious), and so she's a little caught by surprise by his question. She blinks twice and looks down before scooping up some of her custard, and takes a bite.]

Mm, I'm fine. It tastes good...

[It's a poor attempt at covering up her uneasiness, but her smile - not quite as genuine as any of the smiles she had offered him or the past version of him, much more along the lines of the smiles she'd perfected in the care of the Nagumo - comes easily.]

This isn't a bad recipe at all, don't you think?

[The version of himself that had been put to rest would have been able to pinpoint exactly what is wrong with that smile of hers the second it appeared, but this Kaoru can only stare for a second, feeling vaguely ill at ease. Nothing about it seems off to him - and why would it? He's never had the need for false kindness or to force his own smiles. But that's... nostalgic. Nostalgic in a bad way, and his gaze drops after a second to his bowl again.]

It isn't bad at all. I don't know why I haven't made it more often. [...Where did the recipe even come from, anyway? Isn't that a little strange...? He thought he remembered getting it from a childhood friend, but he can't actually recall at all. His palms suddenly feel a little clammy because he knows - he just knows that if he were to go looking through the small collection of recipes he's written down, he won't find this one among them. Even though he can recall the ingredients so clearly, and knows exactly how to prep them...

He takes a quiet breath in to calm himself, and though his own smile comes surprisingly easy, his hand trembles just a little as it finishes its arch and scoops up more custard and the small egg.]

It's warm, right?

[The dish itself, of course, but more than that - something about it is... really, really warm. And that, for some reason, makes his heart ache. His smile falters.]

...Nostalgic.

[Is he crying?? HE SURE IS CRYING. Or, at the very least, tears have beaded at the corners of his eyes. He doesn't yet seem aware of it, staring down at the spoon but seeming to look through it.]

[She doesn't answer his question.

The food is warm, but she's watching him carefully, and that trembling of his hand makes her worry. The way his smile falters makes her heart clench uncomfortably, and when tears begin to form in the corner of his eyes, she starts to reach up to thumb them away -

But then she pauses.

For one thing, she's a "stranger" - how will he even take a stranger trying to wipe his tears? This Kaoru has accepted her into his life so easily, but then, he doesn't really have a reason not to. If he has been living the life she lived before Kyoto, he doesn't have much of a reason to be wary, does he? If he's repressed his memories and been raised by a kind, loving man...

But that's the second thing. Why is he crying at all? ...why would it be so nostalgic, unless her presence here has done something to dredge up old memories? Maybe this was a mistake after all. Maybe she's no good for him.]

...Kaoru? [Her voice is low and urgent, and her brows furrow in concern; she wants to reach out to him, but she can't bring herself to do it, and her hands hover somewhat awkwardly in the space between them.] What's wrong..?

[The sound of his name draws his attention over, though it's slow, like her voice has to pierce through a thick wall before actually reaching him. He's confused - it doesn't show on his face, but he's confused and it's starting to make him feel cornered and panicked. Her hand is extended between them both but it's like he can't see it at all, even though he wants to set his bowl down to reach for it instinctively.

Why is she so far away?

He thinks it automatically and knows that it doesn't make sense, but it just serves to upset him further. Why is there this gap between them - this distance? He doesn't understand it. She's a stranger, someone that he just met recently and lent a room to so that she would have a place to stay. A place away from that clan, that clan, and a strong bubble of nausea rises in him when his thoughts drift that way. His hands are shaking badly by now, enough so that the quail egg gently rolls from the side of his spoon and drops to the table, but he doesn't seem to notice that either.]

It— I can't... I can't breathe—

[His grip on both the bowl and the spoon remains tight as ever and he doesn't seem to be having any trouble breathing, but there's a note of clear panic in his voice. He can't see, either - not well, anyway. The tears that had welled up before are now rolling down his cheeks, obscuring Chizuru's awkwardly outstretched hand from him. The feeling of nostalgia, briefly warm, is now biting and painful, sitting heavily on his chest.]

What..?!

[There are only a few things that could send more panic coursing through Chizuru than there is right now; Kaoru being physically injured is one of them, but tears rolling down his cheeks and an "I can't breathe" is bad enough, and she nearly chokes on her panic herself. His breathing looks okay, but that doesn't really mean anything in the end; the hand that is awkwardly extended between them goes to his back to feel his breathing, and the other comes up to try and wipe away some of his tears before reaching for his trembling hand.]

You're... focus on the sound of my voice, okay? [It's shrill and terrified; she doesn't want anything to happen to him. Is she the cause of him being like this now? ...maybe, but she can't just abandon him.] You'll be okay. Just... inhale, exhale... inhale, exhale... you'll be alright. You can breathe. It's alright. It'll be fine..!

[It has to be fine, it can't not be fine, Kaoru is someone who needs to be protected at all costs. She would slaughter anyone for his sake - she's dirtied her hands already - but what's affecting him now isn't something she can hurt or kill, and that's even more terrifying.]

[Chizuru, despite the panic in her voice, is doing something that normally would help tether him to the ground in any other situation. Having something to pin his focus on would normally do him worlds of good. But this... Something about hearing Chizuru's voice in particular just makes the pressure worsen. Though his breathing had been fine to start, it seems like he's working himself up so badly that he's starting to actually have trouble with it. It comes to him in short gasps, a gentle whistling noise accompanying each inhale. He tries to force words out regardless, but his ribcage feels like it's being pressed inward, compacting his lungs and throat.

When she touches his hand, he starts so badly that the bowl drops from it. He's somewhere else entirely; the hand on his own is unkind, and the clatter of that bowl hitting the table - the mess it's surely made - will bring him such horrific punishment that he knows he'll be sick from it. He feels sick. The tightness in his chest has migrated, opening up a pit in his stomach that seems like it could swallow him whole.]

No! No—!! [His voice is shrill, but Kaoru can hardly hear himself. The spoon drops to the table too and his hands wind into his hair instead, tugging, anxious, before he pushes himself away from the table.] Chizuru, Chizuru— I still— I still can't- [His wild mind still doesn't entirely understand why he's calling for her, but he needs to. Chizuru is the only anchor keeping him tied to this world. To "this" world...?

His hands drop, one immediately covering his mouth. An unpleasant gagging noise follows and Kaoru's turning on his heel, blindly crashing his way out of the room.]

[Nothing she's doing is helping. She wants more than anything to be able to really help him, but - she's just making it worse. He drops the bowl and then the spoon, and his hand goes up into his hair in a gesture that is so hauntingly familiar that it makes her stomach churn.

No, that's not a habit he should have cultivated here -

She rises to her feet as he gets up and turns away, and for a moment she is left there in that room alone. But only a moment. She doesn't want to scare him by giving chase, but she can't just leave him alone to his sickness, either. She hurries after him but takes care not to come too close and invade his personal space, because although every fiber of her being is screaming Hold him, comfort him, protect him, if even just a simple touch to his hand was enough to set him off, she can't risk what doing that will do to him.

But she wants to be able to do what she can - to protect him, she'll go to any lengths.]

Kaoru..! [He'd called out for her before; she calls back to him now.] I'm here... You're going to be okay..! I promise, you'll be okay..!

[The first place that his feet carry him to is the porch, because it's outside and suddenly everything inside just feels so horribly stifling. It's like he's looking at the interior of an entirely different house, and the walls that pass him by in a dizzy blur on his way out seem completely foreign and oppressive. He feels as though he doesn't belong, like he's a stranger in a building that he knows (knows?) he had grown up in. It makes bile rise in the back of his throat, and with it comes a deep-rooted feeling of - loathing, despair, anger. They're old, old feelings; it's almost like reaching into a chest and dusting off prized heirlooms.

These horrible, rotten things have been with him all along, he knows - he knows that almost immediately, because of how easily they come to him. He's struck by the fear that maybe he's been an equally rotten person all along, harboring this sort of decay. Maybe he deserves this. A word echoes in the back of his mind - worthless - and it draws up a raw, short and frightful scream, sucking the strength from his legs.

He teeters at the porch edge before collapsing, immediately retching over the side. It's impossible for him to even register where he is right now and Chizuru's words are little more than a distant buzz, drowned out by the harsh pulse of blood at his eardrums.

Still he searches, coughing once his mostly empty stomach has been emptied fully. Curling up doesn't help to alleviate anything, but he does anyway, wiping feebly at his face.]

Chizuru... Chizuru, where— Where are you...?

I'm right here!

[The answer is immediate and it comes from the doorframe leading out to the porch, where Chizuru is hovering, unsure if she should get closer or if she should just stay where she is and answer when he calls.]

Um—

[But he's thrown up, he probably feels wretched, and the taste of bile that's surely in his mouth can't be at all pleasant. She doesn't know how to take away the pain he's feeling, but she thinks she can do something about that, at least.]

I'll be right back... hold on, okay?

[She vanishes back into the house.

...but only for a few seconds, because she's moving as quickly as she can to get a cup of water for him to drink and a cool cloth to wash his face, and then she's by his side, crouching down next to him and holding them out because it's all she can think of to do.]

Here... it might help...

[It's almost like snow blindness with how he looks around and sees nothing, even though there is nothing physically wrong with his eyes. Nothing about this place is familiar, even though it is. He's too disoriented to be able to tell where he's ended up just yet, so in the end he simply tries to focus on Chizuru's voice, listening and waiting and breathing in harsh and uneven gasps. He's not calmed down by a long shot, but when he hears her footsteps heading toward him... something about that is enough to bring him down at least a little. If nothing else, he no longer feels the pressing urge to lean over and dry heave anymore.

When she offers the glass to him, he looks at it with confusion beneath the panic and the harsh upset. A glass, a glass - water. Right, he needs to drink it. He reaches out, hand still shaking, to take it. Even if it isn't filled very high, he'll likely still manage to spill some trying to get a sip, because his motor control is severely limited for the time being and he honestly can't even tell if his hand is getting anywhere near his mouth.

He'll succeed eventually though, making a soft noise as the foul taste is washed away and his throat is soothed. He doesn't reach up for the washcloth just yet - doesn't see a point in it. He's supposed to use it to clean his face, but the tears haven't stopped yet.]

Why... did that happen—? I can't see, I can't see anything...

[Even his voice seems heavily afflicted by tremors, rising and falling gracelessly. He can see - it's not like he's literally blind, but he's having so much difficulty putting himself back into his own body in the right order.]

I don't know... I'm sorry...

[They did something. The producers have to have done something, because if this had all gone right, if their hands are totally clean and they lived up to their promises, Kaoru shouldn't have any kind of trauma in his life that would give rise to this (except for the death of their family, but even that should be buried more deeply than sharing a meal could affect him like this).]

But it's... you aren't alone. [He must be terrified. He's feeling unwell and having trouble feeling and seeing and thinking - he must be absolutely terrified. She wants to reach out and hold him, to rub circles into his back, to smooth down his hair and whisper words of comfort to him and banish away anything that might hurt him, but she doesn't know if that's within her power anymore.

After a moment, though, she brings her hand to gently touch the side of his face. If he doesn't react too terribly to that, she'll try and wipe his tears away, even as they keep coming.]

I'm here. ...I'm so sorry. I'm here. You're going to be okay... just focus on the sound of my voice. Don't think about anything else.

[He does jump a little at first, but if she doesn't let that deter her, he won't move away any further. He recognizes this hand. Even through his haze of confusion, he fully recognizes it and it brings him a little comfort - not enough comfort to soothe away his anxiety entirely, but enough to ground him a little more. She'll be able to wipe away his tears without his interference, though it seems they won't be slowing any time soon. There's not enough awareness present, self or outwardly directed, telling him to get a hold of himself, to stop, to not burden a veritable stranger with this breakdown.

Her words, though... He can't focus on her voice even though he knows he should. Something about it is still deeply upsetting to him, like it shouldn't be here, or maybe that he shouldn't be listening to it. The place and time is all wrong. This entire scenario is wrong; that feeling settles deeply in him, impossible to shake even as his thoughts gather just a little.

Eventually, he sets the glass down and raises his shaky hand to touch the back of Chizuru's. His fingertips are wet with condensation from the outside of the glass and from water that had spilled in his tremors. There isn't much strength behind it, either intentionally delicate or because he simply doesn't have a lot in him right now.]

You— aren't worthless...

[The need to say that bubbles up before he can stop it, and he instinctively knows why. It's a word that haunts him, and that part of himself that's slowly starting to come to understands that it's a word Chizuru's surely heard throughout her lifetime. The context is different - why? Because Kaoru had been worthless for a different reason. Biological incompatibility.

But he knows they'll have found a reason to apply the same word to Chizuru.]

Edited 2014-10-22 11:17 (UTC)

[She'll keep at it, then - even as the tears continue to come, she'll continue to wipe them away, as gently as is possible for anyone who was raised among the Nagumo. There is a certain amount of tenderness that she's never shown to anyone else in this lifetime - never had the reason to, because that clan doesn't deserve it and this is the first she's seen her brother since she made sure their fates were altered. If she considers his breakdown a burden she doesn't say so.

...it isn't a burden at all, though. Not to her. If it's burdening anyone, it's burdening him - this sudden rush of feeling that the world is coming apart, that nothing is fitting together the way it should, is something that he shouldn't have had to deal with up until now and the only reason he's experiencing it now is probably because of her. She needs to apologize to him -

She can't even protect the one person she wants to protect most -

He chokes out those three words, and Chizuru is left stunned.]

...neither... are you.

[He's not wrong, to assume they've found a way to ingrain that into her. On some level she thinks that they're right (she would believe it fully if this was the only life she ever knew, if she hadn't gone back and chosen this to spare him from it), but it's buried deep down - insidious, waiting for the moment where her guard is down so it can sweep over her. Most of the time she can hold it at bay.

She's not doing so good at that now, though.]

[He has two lives now, too, even though his memories are sorting themselves agonizingly slow and in the wrong order. He knows what it's like to grow up with a measure of worth - with a loving parent, good neighbors, a mundane but reachable goal. Though he's been involved in the ochimizu even in this life, it hadn't been anywhere near enough to make a dent in the placid, peaceful bend of time that seemed to stretch endlessly before him.

But that's wrong. This is not the life that he was meant to live. The tranquility of it isn't suited for him, like he's living on time borrowed from a stranger. Except it hasn't been borrowed from a stranger at all, has it?

His eyes raise to Chizuru's face, searching it. There is something direly important about this person. It's difficult for him to grasp at the train of thought when so many are at odds in his mind; his fingers press against her hand a little more.]

Kindness— That kindness... ["Neither are you", even though he's dimly aware of the fact that Chizuru is suffering alongside him. More, likely - what kind of bitterness has she experienced in this lifetime? How much strength does it take for her to be able to wipe his tears away like this? To sit with him in this awful situation?] You... were always a gentle person.

[A statement, not a question.]

[She brings her other hand up to the back of his as he searches her face. What he's looking for, she doesn't know; if he's seeking out traces of the sister he grew up alongside in their ancestral lands, he likely won't find them - Yukimura Chizuru is all but dead and buried, or at least buried deep within her.

What he'll find is almost a mirror of his own face as it was in the past. That, more than anything else, is what's prevalent here - years and years living with the Nagumo, and before that, the months in that terrible castle, the subtle altering of her mind to the point that she was willing to trade a total of three lives (her victims and the person she'd scapegoated) so that he would have a chance to live out his life in peace.

But that's not what happened here after all, and it's not a kindness, and she can't help but shake her head when he makes his observation.]

No.

[That's all she can say. No. A kind person would have found a way to save him without sacrificing others; a gentle person wouldn't have done the things that she has.

And if she really wanted him to live in peace, she would have stayed far, far away from him.

She really isn't a good sister to Kaoru at all.]

[He shakes his head almost immediately at that, because it's so at odds with the sister that he remembers - or is remembering, rather. The memories return stilted, unfocused, and he can't harness enough concentration or energy to actually try discerning what's inside of them just yet. He just knows that this woman with a face so like his own (in more ways than one, he's starting to see, and that scares him) is someone that he was supposed to... protect?

...That isn't quite right. It isn't wrong, either - there's a fierce underlying sense of devotion and dedication when he thinks of Chizuru as his little sister. But the sentiment is not so pure, and his subconscious mind makes that known quickly. There is something wrong with his intentions, and his face screws up in an expression that mimics someone in pain. It's not physical pain he's in, though - not really. It's still hard for him to breathe, but even that's secondary in comparison to this unpleasant sweep of long-buried thoughts and sentiments.

Again, he shakes his head. He reaches up with his other hand, grasping desperately, latching on to her sleeve like he's afraid she'll pull away and leave him if he doesn't keep her anchored.]

You are, you are, you are, you are—! Why...? No— You did so much— [She has always been kind to him, hasn't she? Even when... For some reason - why, why hadn't he ever reciprocated? What had stopped him?] Because— you're my cute little sister...

[The words sit like lead on his tongue. It's meant as an endearment, but he knows at the same time that it's far, far from that.]

That's...

[It's true, it's true, she's his sister - and she wants him to know it as much as she doesn't. He's safer if he doesn't, would probably be happier if she just stayed away, but she's felt so wretched and been so lonely for so long that she wants him to understand. And the twisted, bitter part of her knows that he will because he's lived the life she has already.

But no, that's wrong, she's supposed to protect him. Can she stop the rest of his memories from coming if she denies it? But she doesn't want to deny it—

He's her brother, he's her brother, they should have just stayed together all along...]

I love you... [It comes out small and broken-sounding.] I wanted— To protect you. I want to protect you.

[Hearing that - "I love you" - he needs to hear it, but it also wrenches a low, horrible, pained noise from him; something that teeters on the edge inhuman because god, remembering hurts.

He... has never been a good brother to her, has he? Not in this life, not in that distant-but-coming-closer life that he had been forced to leave behind. In that one... why had he hated her so much? He can't remember the reason yet, but he can recall the sentiment, bitter and heavy and sharp. It fills him like a heavy sludge, though his mind is at least able to discern that these aren't his emotions. Or... they are - they are, but not. They're the ones that he left behind with that terrible life.]

I love you... I missed you...! [And now that he's said it, the loneliness seems to sweep over him like such a strong tidal wave that he really can't breathe for a second. He's drowning in just how alone he's been. Years and years and years.

Ah... That's why he had been angry, isn't it? Because Chizuru had forgotten him in the same way that he had forgotten Chizuru in this life. His grip becomes more desperate, knuckles white, eyes wide and panicked.]

I'm— I'm sorry- I never meant— [It's still impossible for him to thread together a proper sentence though, and he breaks off with an unpleasant cough.]

[His grip tightening on her hand is what spurs her into action; she loosens her other hand from his and leans forward to bridge the gap between them, to wrap her arm around him and hold tight to him. She can't tell if she's shaking, or if he's shaking, or if they both are.

She knows she feels like she's about to cry.]

Shh. Shhh.

[She doesn't want or need his apologies. She chose this - she chose it, and that's the only thing that's kept her from becoming so twisted over the years that she might lash out at him now. She's much more like the way he was in their first life than the way she was, but she isn't so far gone that she can derive happiness from his pain.

...but she can't foster her own happiness without him being there, either.]

You don't need to apologize to me... I don't want to hear that...!

[She may be shaking, too, but Kaoru certainly is. When she holds him, the tremors only seem to increase, but he'll refuse to allow her the room necessary to pull away. He needs her to be close - he desperately needs to know that she'll forgive him for forgetting, that she won't abandon him now that something - something has gone wrong. This isn't the way it's supposed to be at all, on so many levels. He can only think to himself over and over please please please don't go.]

I— I hadn't even realized... I couldn't remember... I still— I can't remember...

[There are a lot of things that he can't remember - gaps in his memories that stand out hauntingly. ...But they're filling in. He hopes that they'll fill in the rest of the way, because he really doesn't think he can continue living if he's left like this, caught halfway between the person that he was meant to be and this new and suddenly foreign self that he still can't pinpoint coming into existence.]

I only wanted... No— I wanted... What had I wanted—?

[She can't tell him what he wanted. Maybe it's because she never understood, or maybe it's because she doesn't want to be the one to tell him just how warped and twisted his goals were.

He's going to remember at some point - Chizuru can see now that it's inevitable. And she's terrified, of what he'll say and do and feel once he remembers. She has to stay close. It's the only thing she can do - she has to stay close. Her hold on him tightens even though he isn't giving her any room to back off, because as desperately as he's thinking Please don't go, she's thinking Please don't push me away.]

It's— [It's not okay. It's not going to be fine.] You aren't alone... I'm here, okay? Whatever you remember... whatever it is you wanted...

[She buries her face in his shoulder.]

I'm here. We're together...

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