LONELYRAIN
not so lonely
The tempest of rage that had previously taken the Seer had now resided to a dull boil, a slow simmering compared to the flare that had overtaken him just moments ago. Slow breaths were dragged in, even after the harsh hatred of his words had emptied out into the air as Mitsuko would speak, once more drawing him further back into reality and making him realize how close he was teetering to that dark orb that seethed inside of him. How close indeed he had been to sinking deep down in a feeling that shouldn't have seeped as much as it had through the confines of his soul.
Her voice was grounding him again, making him feel a tingle of gratitude at least for her presence, a stabilizing one in her own way, even if she was doing little to particularly discourage the flow of justified hatred, at least the sound of her voice was making the Seer reel in himself before he sank too deep. He had to remember, he was a danger to her and everyone around him the way he currently was. Careful with his rage, careful with his sorrow, and forbidden to allow himself to drown in either emotion. It was this that Byakko had tried to make explicitly clear with Haru, one line that he'd drawn for the Seer in order to keep him on the road to recovery, to purifying himself. Six thousand years of negative emotions however were... difficult to subdue, especially if he stubbornly clung to the emotions like he was now though pushing them deep down until it no longer was as harsh, no longer clouded his judgement.
But, Mitsuko had made only a sad smile finally flicker to life on Haru's face, a question that pierced him and made him suffer just a little bit more. "Yes, it's not the first time." It certainly wasn't, aside from the incident that had taken his leg and reduced Haru to being crippled, there were many times he'd seen his mother collapsed on the floor in his earlier years, her broken hands covering her face after the overseer had gone, and quiet sobs leaving her lips. Her skin lacerated with both the harsh press of nails, the raking of teeth, and slick with the foul man's saliva and seed, whimpering and whispering apologies to her beloved, a man who no longer was at her side, almost begging for him to save her. It was her moments of weakness that tore him up on the inside.
And yet, Honomi would never allow herself to voice how much it was breaking her apart, always trying to keep both Haru and Sorai at bay to prevent Danuja for taking her two children away from her; for at any point he certainly could have. It only took one order, or one excuse, and Danuja would have come and slaughtered both of her boys before her in cold blood if she even so much as tried to resist, tried to even reach out for help. It was sick, that man was sickening and it made a fresh wave of red hot rage to coil within Haru's chest as he closed his eyes tight, forbidding the memories to flare.
Then came the more obvious question, did he do that to his leg. The sad smile turned bitter, long lashes flickering down to half conceal the rubies that turned to look at the leg that hindered him so much, which still shook and trembled and inconvenienced him for years. "...Yes, he did. Because I got in the way," A bitter sneer crossed his face then, "Because I stepped out of line. This was one of my rewards for my 'foolishness'." One, which implied there was more. More that the Seer had to endure, but he would not voice to life now.
Of course, this would be eventually interrupted by Mitsuko's angry voice, frustrated by inaction which for once he agreed. Crimson eyes turned to look at Mitsuko then, an eyebrow raising at her form suddenly falling on her back, eventually the absurdity of it had made a bit of a sharp exhale leave him again, the bitterness fading, "I know how you feel, in all honesty I encourage you to be as reckless as you want. At least with him that is." Rare permission from a usually responsible Seer, but Haru had his own grudge to nurse at this point, he would not deny her the shared rage and anger.
Someone needed to put that bastard in his place.
Just as this sentiment left his lips, Haru's tired eyes had settled upon the flutter of fabric that had slipped from her hakama pocket. Curiosity flared to life then as his eyebrows furrowed in confusion, tilting his head. Was that... a handkerchief? He couldn't quite tell what exactly it was from where he was sitting, but deciding to bring attention to it would do his mood far better than lingering on the topic of Danuja. "..What is that?" Calm now was his tone as his attention was transfixed on the small bit of fabric, a gentleness returning in full to Haru's expression to wash away the angry bite of rage.
Her voice was grounding him again, making him feel a tingle of gratitude at least for her presence, a stabilizing one in her own way, even if she was doing little to particularly discourage the flow of justified hatred, at least the sound of her voice was making the Seer reel in himself before he sank too deep. He had to remember, he was a danger to her and everyone around him the way he currently was. Careful with his rage, careful with his sorrow, and forbidden to allow himself to drown in either emotion. It was this that Byakko had tried to make explicitly clear with Haru, one line that he'd drawn for the Seer in order to keep him on the road to recovery, to purifying himself. Six thousand years of negative emotions however were... difficult to subdue, especially if he stubbornly clung to the emotions like he was now though pushing them deep down until it no longer was as harsh, no longer clouded his judgement.
But, Mitsuko had made only a sad smile finally flicker to life on Haru's face, a question that pierced him and made him suffer just a little bit more. "Yes, it's not the first time." It certainly wasn't, aside from the incident that had taken his leg and reduced Haru to being crippled, there were many times he'd seen his mother collapsed on the floor in his earlier years, her broken hands covering her face after the overseer had gone, and quiet sobs leaving her lips. Her skin lacerated with both the harsh press of nails, the raking of teeth, and slick with the foul man's saliva and seed, whimpering and whispering apologies to her beloved, a man who no longer was at her side, almost begging for him to save her. It was her moments of weakness that tore him up on the inside.
And yet, Honomi would never allow herself to voice how much it was breaking her apart, always trying to keep both Haru and Sorai at bay to prevent Danuja for taking her two children away from her; for at any point he certainly could have. It only took one order, or one excuse, and Danuja would have come and slaughtered both of her boys before her in cold blood if she even so much as tried to resist, tried to even reach out for help. It was sick, that man was sickening and it made a fresh wave of red hot rage to coil within Haru's chest as he closed his eyes tight, forbidding the memories to flare.
Then came the more obvious question, did he do that to his leg. The sad smile turned bitter, long lashes flickering down to half conceal the rubies that turned to look at the leg that hindered him so much, which still shook and trembled and inconvenienced him for years. "...Yes, he did. Because I got in the way," A bitter sneer crossed his face then, "Because I stepped out of line. This was one of my rewards for my 'foolishness'." One, which implied there was more. More that the Seer had to endure, but he would not voice to life now.
Of course, this would be eventually interrupted by Mitsuko's angry voice, frustrated by inaction which for once he agreed. Crimson eyes turned to look at Mitsuko then, an eyebrow raising at her form suddenly falling on her back, eventually the absurdity of it had made a bit of a sharp exhale leave him again, the bitterness fading, "I know how you feel, in all honesty I encourage you to be as reckless as you want. At least with him that is." Rare permission from a usually responsible Seer, but Haru had his own grudge to nurse at this point, he would not deny her the shared rage and anger.
Someone needed to put that bastard in his place.
Just as this sentiment left his lips, Haru's tired eyes had settled upon the flutter of fabric that had slipped from her hakama pocket. Curiosity flared to life then as his eyebrows furrowed in confusion, tilting his head. Was that... a handkerchief? He couldn't quite tell what exactly it was from where he was sitting, but deciding to bring attention to it would do his mood far better than lingering on the topic of Danuja. "..What is that?" Calm now was his tone as his attention was transfixed on the small bit of fabric, a gentleness returning in full to Haru's expression to wash away the angry bite of rage.