[ He keeps his message short and sweet. He'll find out what all this is about soon enough anyway. Yukine seems out of sorts -- and Yato's first thought is that he might've seen a hallucinomemory. He drags out his scarcely-used bicycle (it's on death's door, with him since he was a teenager), ties his scuffed up katana and sketchbook to the rear rack, and bikes on over to the address he was given.
He arrives at Yukine's house in a sweat and parks his bike by a shadowy signpost. Then he gives Yukine a ring... ]
( when yato calls, yukine is already hovering around the front door and anxiously checking his phone every 15 seconds to make sure that he hasn't somehow managed to miss his call. time seems to stretch on forever and yukine has a half a mind to go outside and wait on the street for him, but he restrains himself.
barely.
that'd look too alarming and too desperate, so he figures that it's better to try and play it cool. real cool. super cool. he's not trying to freak yato out or anything. yukine isn't really all that freaked out by it! he certainly was at first, but he's had a little time to adjust. it's just that he's nervous about talking to yato about it. hell, he hasn't talked to his parents yet, which is probably pretty shitty of him but he doesn't know how they might react. what if they start yelling at him? this isn't his fault. yato, however, felt like a safe bet and someone who might know something. after all, he found an old photo of this guy and he definitely didn't have blue eyes when they used to hang out.
yukine cancels the call as soon as it rings, pocketing his phone before pushing the front door open. )
[ Yukine opens the door and he seems... alright? Calmer than his texts led Yato to believe he'd be. Too calm, Yato might say. He gathers up his sketchbook and pads toward the front door, looking at Yukine appraisingly with eyes that gleam a bit too blue in the moonlight.
He keeps his voice low, mindful of whoever else is in the house. ]
( he doesn't answer. he just shakes his head and juts his thumb towards a dark hallway where people were surely asleep already, expecting yato to understand. reaching out, he latches onto yato's wrist and tugs him towards his bedroom.
his bedroom is pretty simple and mostly clean. his bookshelf is crammed full of books, manga, notebooks, and photo albums. there are also at least two cameras in the room, assorted camera parts, and an array of professional level photographs devoid of green and blue strewn across the floor along with a tv with an attached game station and two handheld game systems sitting on top of it. of course, there's also an open laptop at his desk with an attached scanner/printer. if yato were to look, he wouldn't find anything on it right now but photoshop and retrospec.
it's only after he shuts and locks the door behind him that he speaks. )
Your eyes didn't use to be blue, right? Weren't they brown?
[ The camera parts and photo albums catch Yato's attention most. So this is the illustrious Y.M.'s workshop. Yato has gone through Yukine's Tumblr with great interest, admiring Yukine's developing technique and artistic sensibility. And though Yato had no hand in Yukine's growth as a photographer, he can't help feeling pride in Yukine's passion for something productive. He really is a good kid...
Yato turns at the sound of the door locking. Yukine's question is an innocent one, reasonable for someone who knew Yato in the past to ask. But Yato's heart still skips a beat. The more Yukine delves into what Retrospec is doing to them, the more likely it is that he'll start to remember.
This is a simple question. Yato just has to keep his answers simple too. Keep it casual, Yato... ]
Yeah. They turned this way overnight a few months ago. It happens sometimes when you get signed up with Retrospec.
( it's hardly a response, more like a non-committal hum as he acknowledges yato's answer. it's exactly what he was expecting to hear from him—that is, if yato didn't waste his breath trying to convince him that he always had these intense blue eyes and he's admittedly grateful that he doesn't. he's pretty sure that he would have punched him again. eyes like that were pretty hard to hide and they seem even more vibrant when all the rest of the blue has been sucked from the world. all of this weird stuff keeps coming from that weird company and their retrospec app, which apparently has pretty much complete control over reality.
like a bad video game plot.
he sighs softly at the thought. he has no idea what to do or how to handle anything. it feels like too much at any given time. this, this tattoo, also feels like way too much. )
That's what I thought. It happened to me too.
( without waiting for an answer, yukine starts to unbutton his shirt until he's got ample room to peel the fabric back far enough to show off the red "yuki" tattoo emblazoned across his collarbone. )
[ Yato's seen that tattoo before. Of course he has. Even if it was only a partial view, the proud red of that kanji was as loud as a scream under the pure white of Yukine's funereal robes. Yato's gaze is fixated on that tattoo now, as it was in the mind's eye of his memory. He forgets to speak right away or feign indifference; he is utterly still.
What do you remember? is his first question. It would be the wrong question to ask aloud. He has his shock to thank for letting it pass. He struggles for something else. ]
Does it do anything?
[ He manages to keep his tone level, even if he can't quite school the surprise from his face. ]
( in a way that he can't quite put his finger on. it's such a strange and precarious thing, but there's been a sense of wrongness clinging to his very bones ever since his first memory and it's only heightened with the appearance of the deep red kanji marked against his skin. )
I don't know how to describe it.
( then he waves a hand, approaching yato to reach out for his hand. abruptly, he presses yato's palm against the tattoo as if it might do something and maybe it will. yato and a brown haired girl were tied into this, weren't they? )
[ He doesn't want to touch it. It might do something, and he doesn't know enough to be sure. But he can't pull his hand away without being suspicious, so his palm comes to rest on the tattoo and... nothing happens. Other than the dampness of Yato's hand becoming regretfully evident.
Thank god... ]
The word you're looking for is "delinquent". You feel like a delinquent. A big, bright tattoo, huh? Your mom can't be too happy about that.
[ He isn't outright lying, but he isn't being truthful either, and that's enough to make Yato uncomfortable. He's driving a wedge between them. It's in Yukine's best interest, but it still feels dirty. ]
( as noticeable as yato's sweaty palms are, yukine is too taken aback by his words to really acknowledge it. something about it seems really weird and dodgy, especially considering the face that yato had just been making and yukine's temper flares. why is he like this? it's too frustrating!
he was hoping that yato could actually help him, but he's being an ass! )
Don't be stupid! You know what I'm talking about!
( immediately clutching at yato's hand, holding it against the tattoo. yato has to know! if he doesn't—
[ He can sense that Yukine is looking for some kind of guidance, or at least some commiseration. Has Yukine seen Yato in his hallucinomemories already? The thought lights a flame of panic. Better chase it away-- ]
How am I supposed to know? Does it look like I've got a random tattoo? And before you ask, I only strip to tease!
[ -- with as little dignity as possible. Sorry, Yukine. This is for your own good.
Yato would love to have someone to talk to about what he's been seeing. Especially if that person could paint color between the harsh, confusing lines of who the god Yato was supposed to be. But Yukine can't be that person for Yato any more than Yato can be the one to illuminate the darkness for Yukine. Sometimes the sun can burn too bright and wither the life that grows to reach it. ]
( said softly as he pushes yato away roughly, basically swatting his hand away from him. yukine is buttoning his shirt up immediately after the fact, obscuring the tattoo from view before yato can treat himself to another eyeful of his delinquency.
asshole.
he can't believe that he really thought that yato would be able to help him. geez, maybe he's just thinking way too hard into everything and retreated to the old comfort of his aniki. fuck, he really should have went to his parents' house instead. why did he think this was going to be a good idea like yato had any insight?
yukine gives yato a narrowed glance before clicking the lock on the door, unlocking it. )
[ Yato stays where Yukine has shoved him, feeling the disappointment in Yukine's every gesture. Again Yato is still, this time with uncertainty. Regret. But he cannot afford to feel regret or uncertainty in this one matter, the matter of Yukine's life.
Yato isn't an actor. He isn't an intellectual either, or a strategist, or so persuasive and charismatic that he can guide Yukine away from this topic without seeming suspicious. He isn't even very likable, most days. He can only do his best.
His best isn't always good enough.
Yukine being angry at him, disappointed, no longer looking to Yato for difficult things, could be a solution. After all, Yukine won't be reminded of nearly as many hallucinomemories involving Yato if he's too disgusted to seek Yato out. And fewer hallucinomemories could mean fewer changes. This, right here, letting Yukine think that Yato isn't taking him seriously, could be the answer.
The selfish part of Yato wants to keep Yukine reliant on him. He wants someone who can lean on him and value his opinion enough to seek it. But not like this.
What are Yato's needs against Yukine's? Yukine, who has parents and cousins and schoolmates and passion and a future. Yukine, who has a rough bearing inherited from Yato, a piece of shit brat with a smile like a sunburst. Yukine, who is only fifteen years old.
There's no comparison.
Yato walks through the door. He'll even go quietly, padding his way through the house as silent as a burglar. But before Yukine can shut the front door on him, he'll stop. With his back still turned so his expression will not betray him, he says: ]
( the walk is fast, every step hurried, because he needs to get yato out of his house as soon as possible. yukine doesn't know how to deal with this. he doesn't know what to do with all these weird mixed messages that he's picking up from yato and he especially doesn't know what to do with the fact that yato dismissed him like this.
hadn't he said all this stuff at prom? was it just the alcohol talking?
maybe it was. maybe yukine has been building this all up on his own. maybe he's just an idiot all over again, putting his faith in this guy.
so, when yato asks his question, the answer is clear. )
[ He turns just enough and stops the door with the back of his boot. Yukine's answer came fast enough that Yato can tell he's only thinking of the immediate. And though he doesn't miss that pointed form of address, he ignores the twist it brings. ]
That isn't what I mean. If you'd never met me, and you were living here... do you think you'd be happy?
[ He knows it must be a strange question. But his tone is serious and tolerates no ridicule. ]
this guy really has some fucking nerve! it takes all of the willpower in him not to shout, lowering his voice to a furious hiss as he kicks at yato's foot to dislodge him from between the door and the threshold. although, a sinister part of him considers waking up his aunt and letting her take care of this situation for him. )
Do think it's fair for you to demand anything now? What kind of asshole are you? You wanna hear that I'd be unhappy if I hadn't found you hiding in Anya's house?
( hitting his fist against the door. )
Fuck you! You don't give a shit how I feel! Whatever dumb shit you're doing right now is all about you!
[ He was hoping to hear the exact opposite, actually. If Yukine would be happier in a life without Yato, things would be a lot simpler. Not easier. But simpler.
Yukine's cursing and banging doesn't move Yato any more than the kick at his foot. Not that Yato isn't hearing it. He can't afford to react and let loose the torrent beating at the dam. Not even a trickle. Because once a crack shows, he's certain he'll burst.
He takes a moment to breathe in, breathe out. Still half-turned, not quite able to meet the hatred he's sure must be in Yukine's eyes -- he gets it, he remembers what he said behind the building at Prom -- he continues with painstaking calm. ]
I'm here to help you. But not with this. Don't ask me about anything Retrospec again.
[ No, it isn't fair of Yato to demand anything of Yukine. But he'll do it all the same, because he must. He removes his foot from the doorway, leaving Yukine to close the door if he wants to. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
6/13; late evening
aniki?
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What's up?
no subject
to talk
uhm
about something important?
no subject
Wanna talk in person? I can go to your place.
/3
it's fine
you don't gotta do anything like that
no subject
no
i mean
yea
please come aniki
bring your artwork, ok?
no subject
don't knock
people are asleep
call me when you get here
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[ He keeps his message short and sweet. He'll find out what all this is about soon enough anyway. Yukine seems out of sorts -- and Yato's first thought is that he might've seen a hallucinomemory. He drags out his scarcely-used bicycle (it's on death's door, with him since he was a teenager), ties his scuffed up katana and sketchbook to the rear rack, and bikes on over to the address he was given.
He arrives at Yukine's house in a sweat and parks his bike by a shadowy signpost. Then he gives Yukine a ring... ]
no subject
barely.
that'd look too alarming and too desperate, so he figures that it's better to try and play it cool. real cool. super cool. he's not trying to freak yato out or anything. yukine isn't really all that freaked out by it! he certainly was at first, but he's had a little time to adjust. it's just that he's nervous about talking to yato about it. hell, he hasn't talked to his parents yet, which is probably pretty shitty of him but he doesn't know how they might react. what if they start yelling at him? this isn't his fault. yato, however, felt like a safe bet and someone who might know something. after all, he found an old photo of this guy and he definitely didn't have blue eyes when they used to hang out.
yukine cancels the call as soon as it rings, pocketing his phone before pushing the front door open. )
Hey.
no subject
[ Yukine opens the door and he seems... alright? Calmer than his texts led Yato to believe he'd be. Too calm, Yato might say. He gathers up his sketchbook and pads toward the front door, looking at Yukine appraisingly with eyes that gleam a bit too blue in the moonlight.
He keeps his voice low, mindful of whoever else is in the house. ]
What did you wanna talk about?
no subject
his bedroom is pretty simple and mostly clean. his bookshelf is crammed full of books, manga, notebooks, and photo albums. there are also at least two cameras in the room, assorted camera parts, and an array of professional level photographs devoid of green and blue strewn across the floor along with a tv with an attached game station and two handheld game systems sitting on top of it. of course, there's also an open laptop at his desk with an attached scanner/printer. if yato were to look, he wouldn't find anything on it right now but photoshop and retrospec.
it's only after he shuts and locks the door behind him that he speaks. )
Your eyes didn't use to be blue, right? Weren't they brown?
no subject
Yato turns at the sound of the door locking. Yukine's question is an innocent one, reasonable for someone who knew Yato in the past to ask. But Yato's heart still skips a beat. The more Yukine delves into what Retrospec is doing to them, the more likely it is that he'll start to remember.
This is a simple question. Yato just has to keep his answers simple too. Keep it casual, Yato... ]
Yeah. They turned this way overnight a few months ago. It happens sometimes when you get signed up with Retrospec.
no subject
( it's hardly a response, more like a non-committal hum as he acknowledges yato's answer. it's exactly what he was expecting to hear from him—that is, if yato didn't waste his breath trying to convince him that he always had these intense blue eyes and he's admittedly grateful that he doesn't. he's pretty sure that he would have punched him again. eyes like that were pretty hard to hide and they seem even more vibrant when all the rest of the blue has been sucked from the world. all of this weird stuff keeps coming from that weird company and their retrospec app, which apparently has pretty much complete control over reality.
like a bad video game plot.
he sighs softly at the thought. he has no idea what to do or how to handle anything. it feels like too much at any given time. this, this tattoo, also feels like way too much. )
That's what I thought. It happened to me too.
( without waiting for an answer, yukine starts to unbutton his shirt until he's got ample room to peel the fabric back far enough to show off the red "yuki" tattoo emblazoned across his collarbone. )
no subject
What do you remember? is his first question. It would be the wrong question to ask aloud. He has his shock to thank for letting it pass. He struggles for something else. ]
Does it do anything?
[ He manages to keep his tone level, even if he can't quite school the surprise from his face. ]
no subject
( in a way that he can't quite put his finger on. it's such a strange and precarious thing, but there's been a sense of wrongness clinging to his very bones ever since his first memory and it's only heightened with the appearance of the deep red kanji marked against his skin. )
I don't know how to describe it.
( then he waves a hand, approaching yato to reach out for his hand. abruptly, he presses yato's palm against the tattoo as if it might do something and maybe it will. yato and a brown haired girl were tied into this, weren't they? )
no subject
Thank god... ]
The word you're looking for is "delinquent". You feel like a delinquent. A big, bright tattoo, huh? Your mom can't be too happy about that.
[ He isn't outright lying, but he isn't being truthful either, and that's enough to make Yato uncomfortable. He's driving a wedge between them. It's in Yukine's best interest, but it still feels dirty. ]
no subject
( as noticeable as yato's sweaty palms are, yukine is too taken aback by his words to really acknowledge it. something about it seems really weird and dodgy, especially considering the face that yato had just been making and yukine's temper flares. why is he like this? it's too frustrating!
he was hoping that yato could actually help him, but he's being an ass! )
Don't be stupid! You know what I'm talking about!
( immediately clutching at yato's hand, holding it against the tattoo. yato has to know! if he doesn't—
if he doesn't—
. . . yukine doesn't know who to turn to. )
no subject
How am I supposed to know? Does it look like I've got a random tattoo? And before you ask, I only strip to tease!
[ -- with as little dignity as possible. Sorry, Yukine. This is for your own good.
Yato would love to have someone to talk to about what he's been seeing. Especially if that person could paint color between the harsh, confusing lines of who the god Yato was supposed to be. But Yukine can't be that person for Yato any more than Yato can be the one to illuminate the darkness for Yukine. Sometimes the sun can burn too bright and wither the life that grows to reach it. ]
no subject
( said softly as he pushes yato away roughly, basically swatting his hand away from him. yukine is buttoning his shirt up immediately after the fact, obscuring the tattoo from view before yato can treat himself to another eyeful of his delinquency.
asshole.
he can't believe that he really thought that yato would be able to help him. geez, maybe he's just thinking way too hard into everything and retreated to the old comfort of his aniki. fuck, he really should have went to his parents' house instead. why did he think this was going to be a good idea like yato had any insight?
yukine gives yato a narrowed glance before clicking the lock on the door, unlocking it. )
Sorry I showed you.
( then he's pushing the door open. )
Let me walk you out.
no subject
Yato isn't an actor. He isn't an intellectual either, or a strategist, or so persuasive and charismatic that he can guide Yukine away from this topic without seeming suspicious. He isn't even very likable, most days. He can only do his best.
His best isn't always good enough.
Yukine being angry at him, disappointed, no longer looking to Yato for difficult things, could be a solution. After all, Yukine won't be reminded of nearly as many hallucinomemories involving Yato if he's too disgusted to seek Yato out. And fewer hallucinomemories could mean fewer changes. This, right here, letting Yukine think that Yato isn't taking him seriously, could be the answer.
The selfish part of Yato wants to keep Yukine reliant on him. He wants someone who can lean on him and value his opinion enough to seek it. But not like this.
What are Yato's needs against Yukine's? Yukine, who has parents and cousins and schoolmates and passion and a future. Yukine, who has a rough bearing inherited from Yato, a piece of shit brat with a smile like a sunburst. Yukine, who is only fifteen years old.
There's no comparison.
Yato walks through the door. He'll even go quietly, padding his way through the house as silent as a burglar. But before Yukine can shut the front door on him, he'll stop. With his back still turned so his expression will not betray him, he says: ]
Yuki. Are you happy?
no subject
hadn't he said all this stuff at prom? was it just the alcohol talking?
maybe it was. maybe yukine has been building this all up on his own. maybe he's just an idiot all over again, putting his faith in this guy.
so, when yato asks his question, the answer is clear. )
No.
( moving to close the door. )
Goodnight, Yato.
no subject
That isn't what I mean. If you'd never met me, and you were living here... do you think you'd be happy?
[ He knows it must be a strange question. But his tone is serious and tolerates no ridicule. ]
Give me an honest answer.
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this guy really has some fucking nerve! it takes all of the willpower in him not to shout, lowering his voice to a furious hiss as he kicks at yato's foot to dislodge him from between the door and the threshold. although, a sinister part of him considers waking up his aunt and letting her take care of this situation for him. )
Do think it's fair for you to demand anything now? What kind of asshole are you? You wanna hear that I'd be unhappy if I hadn't found you hiding in Anya's house?
( hitting his fist against the door. )
Fuck you! You don't give a shit how I feel! Whatever dumb shit you're doing right now is all about you!
no subject
Yukine's cursing and banging doesn't move Yato any more than the kick at his foot. Not that Yato isn't hearing it. He can't afford to react and let loose the torrent beating at the dam. Not even a trickle. Because once a crack shows, he's certain he'll burst.
He takes a moment to breathe in, breathe out. Still half-turned, not quite able to meet the hatred he's sure must be in Yukine's eyes -- he gets it, he remembers what he said behind the building at Prom -- he continues with painstaking calm. ]
I'm here to help you. But not with this. Don't ask me about anything Retrospec again.
[ No, it isn't fair of Yato to demand anything of Yukine. But he'll do it all the same, because he must. He removes his foot from the doorway, leaving Yukine to close the door if he wants to. ]
no subject
Get off my lawn.
( his voice is hard and cold. )
Talk to me when you figure out if it's convenient for you to actually be my friend.
( then shutting the door. )
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