[Yamato jumps--or maybe he flinches at the accusation, because as much as he'd like to yell "of course I remember, I'd never forget you!", it isn't true. Yamato is terrible with words, but he rarely lies, even if the truth is painful.
Still, though. He shakes his head, adamant.] Of course I would care! I'll always care. I'm-- I don't know... what was going on, or why that happened, but-- I'll always care what happens to you. [It's true; even when Yato had come out of nowhere, seeming like a total stranger and yanking his phone out of his hand, he'd dragged Yato all the way to his mother's house. This is the guy who used to make friends by beating up other kids he met on the street and taking them home, it's not at all an unreasonable claim for him.
And besides--]
You don't think I'd ever forget on purpose, do you? Isn't it obvious Retrospec did something? [That was the very first conclusion he'd jumped to as soon as he figured things out, anyway. Granted, he has no proof that Retrospec forced him to forget about Yato, but... if they can get into his head and dig up "memories", if they can steal the color out of his eyes, why not something like this too?]
[ Yato listens. And then he sighs quietly and rubs his forehead with one hand. He can't be losing his temper like that. ]
I know you wouldn't forget on purpose.
[ It isn't Yamato's fault. It isn't anyone's fault. Having no one but Retrospec to point his finger at, Yato has tried to keep his complaints to a minimum. But it gets real old, having to wait for people to remember that he exists. It starts to feel futile. Even a good friend like Yamato...
[ Doesn't he? But to see Yato without seeming spacey or confused. How can that be?
Yato's frustration flocks out of him. He raises his head back up at Yamato with a strange look on his face. Yamato was talking in past tense just now. ]
Do you remember what I texted you about in the middle of the night about a month ago?
[It's a reasonable question. Yamato tries not to feel hurt again, tries to think about how he'd feel in Yato's place. So rather than complaining or arguing, he just nods.]
Yeah. It was about that... memory you had. [He hesitates, then adds, quietly--] The killing ones.
[ Something changes in Yato's eyes. A widening, a brightening. Because Yamato remembers again. Who else? What changed? Yato leans forward until he's gripping the bars. ]
Yasu! Has anything happened to you recently? Maybe something related to Retrospec?
[With a touch of regret, Yamato shakes his head. If only there was such an easy explanation... but he's got nothing.]
Not that I know of. I just heard you were in here and then... I realized I'd forgotten. [He can't help a small wince; it may have been unintentional, but that doesn't mean it didn't hurt.] What about you? Did something change with you, or did this... whatever it was just wear off?
... No. Nothing changed. Other than me landing in here, I guess.
[ His hands slide down the bars until his head is to the counter. ]
But you still remembered... Thank god. Thank god...
[ He didn't think he'd be able to stay in anyone's memories again once he started slipping out. Yamato is the first. There could be a second. And a third. Maybe it's dangerous, to have this much hope again. ]
[Well hell, now he really feels bad. It's not like he has anything to be guilt about, per se--if he'd been forced to choose between wiping a friend from his memory or a bullet to the head, he would've gone to the other shore with a smile. But whether it was intentional or not, it still happened, and that's something he can't undo.]
I'm sorry. [He'd love to make bold promises about never forgetting again or making them pay for this, but... now isn't the time.
Softly, this time--] Yato? Why are you in here? Was it those guys again, or...?
[ what the fuck yams don't shoot yourself over memories
Yato lifts himself from the counter and grimaces. ]
Yeah. Kind of. This guy wasn't targetting me, though. He was going after Aki because she helped me out back then too. She humiliated him, and I guess his pride couldn't take it. He burned down her apartment and tried to take her life, so I took his hands. Seems like a fair exchange to me.
[ Except for the part where he'd really love to have that guy's head on a platter, but Yato took what he could get. ]
You watch out too, Yasu. I don't want any more friends getting hurt because of me.
But Yamato doesn't seem terribly surprised; now that he's not just running on kneejerk reactions, all he does is sigh, looking tired. It's not difficult to assume that Yato most likely wasn't aiming for his hands, but even if long, drawn-out torture really had been Yato's goal, Yamato doesn't think he'd be particularly fazed. He doesn't condone murder by any means, but Yato was protecting a friend--Yamato couldn't, in good faith, say that he'd never do the same thing.
Still. That doesn't mean he's happy about it. It's not a good feeling seeing Yato stuck behind bars like this, regardless of how much the other guy deserved it.]
You don't have to worry about me. I'm unkillable, remember? [Truthfully, he has strong doubts about that, and he's in no hurry to test it--nor does he want to get arrested himself, not when he's got both friends and family counting on him. But he gives Yato a small smile anyway, as if he knows for sure that he's invincible.
He can take care of himself, though. That much he really is confident about, especially knowing who he's got on his side.]
You didn't have to deal with this alone, though. [He can understand why Yato must've felt he had to, but still... surely there was a better way to take care of all this?] Now you're stuck in here, who's to say his friends aren't planning to strike back at her while you're out of the picture?
[Maybe that shouldn't be his first thought, but his priorities are a little skewed at the moment.]
[ Unkillable? Yamato healed a cut to the arm, yeah, but unkillable is a bold claim. And it isn't like the rest of the apartment is unkillable too. All the things Yamato and Kashuu have worked so hard for could be gone in an instant.
Yato leans back in his chair and crosses his arms. Yamato doesn't make a bad point, but hindsight is 20/20. And still -- Yato doesn't think his logic was wrong. ]
They already struck at her when I was still in the picture, and that's a fact. Taking care of the guy with beef as soon as possible was the safest option for her. I wasn't planning on him being able to walk away.
What would've happened if I'd called on you for help? We'd both be in jail? I can afford to be in here, Yasu, but you can't.
[It's reflex to want to bristle, to argue that it isn't up to Yato to decide what he can and can't risk. But even as he thinks it, he knows Yato is right. He'd love to insist that he'd do anything for Yato's sake, but... would he? If it came down to it, really came down to it, could he say he'd put himself on the line 100% of the time?
He can't. It stings to admit it, even to himself, but he doesn't like to lie. He isn't selfless, he isn't infallible, and he isn't even really all that smart--not smart enough to talk his way out of a jail cell, that's for sure.]
We could've found another way. [For Yamato, of all people, to suggest solving a problem without violence... it's the biggest indication of how much he hates this situation. It's not that he doesn't care that Yato tried to kill someone, but to think that Yato could've been killed in that fight, to think about how long he's bound to be trapped in here, especially when people can't remember him as it is... it's sad. It's just too sad.]
I just... you shouldn't be in here. I don't like it. [And there it is, that childish behavior that shows up every so often. It's a weird sort of naivete, the way Yamato sees situations sometimes, cutting straight through nuances and complexities to say exactly what he's thinking. Maybe "I don't like it" should sound whiny, or almost laughable, but he says it as if that should truly be enough reason for Yato to be set free.
He hasn't forgotten their conversation from that night, either. Yato's a warrior god, or something like it. If he's begun regaining abilities, it's only logical he'd start regaining instincts, too. "I guess I didn't feel guilty about any of it either... I found it kind of fun, actually. And my dad seemed really proud of me."
He hasn't forgotten, but he stands by what he'd said. Yato isn't that person, the child-slaying child, and that's enough for Yamato to want him out of here.]
[ Yes, maybe there was another way. A slower way. A less permanent way. Neither of those things an option to Yato.
The most childish statement is the one that reaches him most easily. He can disagree with another person's reasoning or perspective, but he can't deny their simplest of feelings.
If Yamato can expose his heart a little, then maybe so can Yato. ]
I'm sorry that you had to start remembering me like this. But I'm glad that you did start.
[ Yato wishes his heart were hardy enough to re-introduce himself to the same friends every day, to say that being able to interact with them just a little at a time could be enough. Some people are happy enough knowing that their friends are happy. Call him selfish, call him needy. He isn't a good enough person to be happy with giving and getting nothing in return.
[Once he'd remembered, anyway. He's not sure he'll ever stop feeling guilty about it, now that he knows how the whole thing had affected Yato; now that he's seen the relief on his face, the hurt when he'd assumed Yamato still didn't remember. Yamato can hardly imagine--he doesn't even want to try.
It's not much easier now that he does remember, though, not when the situation has come to this. He sighs, resting his head against the bars.]
Wait 'til things settle down a bit. Then I'll leave, and...
[ Well. His plans haven't changed. He only walked away because there came one witness too many. Maybe there's something wrong with him now, feeling so calm and cold about the idea of ending someone else's life. ]
I want to finish the job. Do you think that's wrong?
[Yamato's quiet for a while, mulling it over. Is it bad, he wonders, that he can't immediately say "no"?
Is it worse that he can't immediately say "yes"?]
I don't know. [He admits at last, quietly. It's not an answer he's happy giving, but he doesn't saying things he doesn't believe.
This... it's all so heavy. It's different from hearing about the things Yato used to do. It's even different from getting involved in an actual life-or-death fight, spurred on by adrenaline and a desire to protect his friend. Could he have killed one of those men, if he'd needed to? He can't say one way or the other, but this... this isn't getting caught up in the heat of battle. It's an act of protection, of defense, but Yato's announcing his plans here and now. There's no way he can brush it off as unintentional.] I can't say I want you to become a murderer, but it's not like I don't understand where you're coming from, either.
[Another pause, then he looks up, meeting Yato's eyes. His own are a dark gray, like a storm creeping over the horizon, ready to eclipse the sun.] Is that the only way you would be satisfied?
[ It is heavy, and it's why Yato didn't want to drag anyone else into this business. The knowledge that he intends to kill is too much to put on a friend, because then that friend must make a choice: become an accomplice to murder, turn on a friend by notifying the authorities, or do nothing and bear the guilt of inaction?
But here Yamato is, saying he could have helped. So if he wants to, he can be Yato's moral compass for a spell. ]
I dunno. Satisfaction's not really what I'm after. What I want is...
[ Justice? No, Yato isn't impartial or venerable enough for that. He knew from the start that trying to kill someone, no matter how much they might deserve it, would be wrong in the eyes of humanity. It was and still is a selfish desire born of ego, the arrogance that he can determine a human being's worth.
He won't shy away from his conceit. He's used to being disagreed with. He's used to standing on the wrong side of society. So he'll be honest with Yamato, even if what he says sounds a little mad. ]
I saved him, once. As far as I'm concerned, his life belongs to me. And if the life he's led since I first met him has been unworthy, it's my right to undo the mistake of saving him.
You might be thinking, "Why not go to the police?" My answer is: he's my responsibility. He'll never know the magnitude of what he's done if a stranger arrests him. If, when I see him again, he understands that he'll never be able to strike a match or hold another person again because he doesn't deserve to, I'll think about sparing him.
[Yamato's always been the type to wear his heart on his sleeve. It's almost always painfully easy to see what he's thinking, what he's feeling. But now, his expression is unreadable. He's silent as Yato speaks, and though his fingers tighten against the bars once or twice, there's no clear emotion shining through his eyes.
He doesn't reply immediately. But he continues to stare, like he's looking for something in Yato's face that will tell him all the answers.
But whatever answer he does find, it's clearly not what he wanted. He doesn't look any more satisfied as he lets out a breath, though his voice is remarkably even when he finally does speak.]
So you want to be that god.
[Not just "god". Not even just "a warrior god". That god, the one he'd seen in his visions, the one Yamato had assured him he wasn't.
I know you wouldn't hurt anybody for no reason.
Well. That's still true, isn't it? There is a reason for this. Whether it's a good one or not...
The thing is, it's dangerous reasoning to tread on. Even if they count this as justifiable, what's to stop that definition from expanding? Can Yato be sure, really sure, that he won't eventually turn into that little boy from his dreams?
Yamato doesn't trust himself enough to try and convey all of that through words. He's terribly good at saying all the wrong things, though it seems to happen more with Kashuu than anyone else. He's learned, over time, how to be a little more careful with what he lets out of his mouth, but that doesn't mean he's gotten any better at putting the words together. Now it's clear that he's struggling, trying to explain his feelings without hurting Yato's in the process. And maybe he shouldn't worry about that right now, but Yamato's always, always been fiercely loyal to his dearest people. Yato's trusting him enough to talk this out--the least he can do is be the friend he's looking for.]
Yato, I'm not sure... you'll really be okay with that. [He remembers perfectly well what Yato had told him, about the sort of life he'd once led. Few details, but he hadn't needed them. But he also remembers laying awake in the dead of night, trying to reassure him about the atrocities he may or may not have committed.] Sooner or later, I feel like you'll have to make a choice that isn't this easy. [And maybe it's terrible of him, to call any sort of premeditated murder "easy", but. Madness or not, at least he gets what Yato is trying to say. But it won't, he worries, hold true forever. ] If you save someone, but then turn around and kill them, then... don't they cancel out? Wouldn't that mean you're not saving anyone, in the end?
[He bites his lip, a touch of sadness creeping through.] Saving someone shouldn't mean you own them, Yato. That's not what saving people is about. You saved Aki by doing this, so does that mean you own her too?
[He doesn't wait for an answer; he already knows Yato doesn't think of his friends that way. But could he? If he starts dabbling with this sort of power, where exactly is it going to take him? Yamato wants, more than anything, to trust in Yato, to be able to stand firm in his belief that Yato is a good person, regardless of what he may or may not have done in his memories.
He isn't even sure which side he's arguing for, anymore. All he knows is that it hurts, deep inside his heart.]
I just don't want you to become something you regret.
[ Yato knows instinctively what Yamato means by that god, and he doesn't know if he wants to protest that he isn't that god, that he doesn't want to be that god, or that he might be that god already whether he likes it or not. They're important distinctions, and yet hopelessly futile.
But Yamato is right. Yato won't ever own Aki, no matter how much he does for her. It's common sense. His friends aren't possessions; he doesn't do things for them to put them in his debt. As a human, he always valued agency and individuality in other people. He would never have claimed ownership over another.
As a god, other people are beginning to run together. He can only be so invested in a populace that treats him like air. An old part of him remembers what it was like to burst into someone else's life and tangle himself up in it in an instant; even if he wasn't always wanted, he was at least there to make a mark and carve a space out for himself. Now, the lives of normal people are intangible, cordoned away from him to see and not touch. Just blips on a radar. So foreign, so ill-defined. Is it a wonder that some strangers have little value to him? Is putting down a rotten human really much worse than putting down a rabid dog?
Yato looks at Yamato sitting across from him and sees his turmoil. Even if Yamato's argument is confused and grasping, he wants Yato to be happy with his decisions -- that much is clear. But had Yato not committed this crime, and had that man gone off and done more awful things because of it, Yato would be even unhappier than he is now. This is, he thinks, the happiest he could be with the options given, even if he isn't happy with how Yamato has been affected.
No matter how many moral questions get thrown at him, Yato doesn't feel regret over his actions. It's a fact of the heart. Even if it makes Yamato sad, Yato can't change how he feels. Maybe there's nothing to discuss beyond that. So in answer to all of Yamato's questions and concerns, Yato only says gently: ]
I'll never regret acting in a friend's interest. What's done is done.
[Maybe someday, someday soon, Yamato will understand all of that. In just a few short weeks, the revelation that he, too, was once something other than human is going to hit him. Maybe then, he'll be able to look at this from Yato's point of view, to more readily accept a lack of appreciation for human life.
But right now, he can't. He can't, and hates that, and he hates himself even more for feeling that way. Even Yamato gets how fucked up it is, to be willing to discuss this so rationally at all. A normal person would reject Yato, or refuse to believe he'd be capable of such a thing. But Yamato's the last person to chide someone for solving their problems through (personally justifiable) violence. As far as "normal" goes, well... he's never been one for that particular label anyway.
Yato's words are a non-answer, and they both know it. Yamato's never learned the art of elusive speech, but he's spent too long around people who have, and he recognizes the dismissal for what it is. But his own feelings are too unstable for him to push any further. He wants to, that much is obvious on face, in the way he stays sitting even as Yato stands. For a good few seconds, it seems like he really is going to keep arguing.
But then all the energy seems to drain from him at once, and he slumps a little, dejected. There's no sense in arguing, he figures, when he doesn't even know what point he's trying to make. He nods slowly, twisting his fingers and while they might be the same age, right now, he looks impossibly young.]
I'll see you soon. [Whatever happens in the future, Yato is still a good friend. And after being forgotten for so long, however unintended, it's the least he can do to make up for lost time as much as possible.
As he finally stands, he looks at Yato one more time, and he doesn't bother trying to disguise the plea that bleeds through his voice.]
[ Yato smiles for him, just a little. Even if they can't share the same understanding in this moment, he's still Yamato's friend. And even if Yamato looks heartbreakingly sad, there's nothing Yato can do but avoid giving Yamato more reason to worry. ]
I will. [ And he means it. A bit of alone time might help him clear his head. ] ] Don't forget to use up all the food I have in the fridge. When I get back, I'll fix us up a feast.
[ He nods, and then off he goes... after he pointedly gets the security officer's attention so that he can be cuffed again and led away. Yato basically polices himself around here... ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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Still, though. He shakes his head, adamant.] Of course I would care! I'll always care. I'm-- I don't know... what was going on, or why that happened, but-- I'll always care what happens to you. [It's true; even when Yato had come out of nowhere, seeming like a total stranger and yanking his phone out of his hand, he'd dragged Yato all the way to his mother's house. This is the guy who used to make friends by beating up other kids he met on the street and taking them home, it's not at all an unreasonable claim for him.
And besides--]
You don't think I'd ever forget on purpose, do you? Isn't it obvious Retrospec did something? [That was the very first conclusion he'd jumped to as soon as he figured things out, anyway. Granted, he has no proof that Retrospec forced him to forget about Yato, but... if they can get into his head and dig up "memories", if they can steal the color out of his eyes, why not something like this too?]
1/2
I know you wouldn't forget on purpose.
[ It isn't Yamato's fault. It isn't anyone's fault. Having no one but Retrospec to point his finger at, Yato has tried to keep his complaints to a minimum. But it gets real old, having to wait for people to remember that he exists. It starts to feel futile. Even a good friend like Yamato...
... looks right through him...? ]
2/2
Yato's frustration flocks out of him. He raises his head back up at Yamato with a strange look on his face. Yamato was talking in past tense just now. ]
Do you remember what I texted you about in the middle of the night about a month ago?
[ A little before everyone started forgetting. ]
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Yeah. It was about that... memory you had. [He hesitates, then adds, quietly--] The killing ones.
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Yasu! Has anything happened to you recently? Maybe something related to Retrospec?
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Not that I know of. I just heard you were in here and then... I realized I'd forgotten. [He can't help a small wince; it may have been unintentional, but that doesn't mean it didn't hurt.] What about you? Did something change with you, or did this... whatever it was just wear off?
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[ His hands slide down the bars until his head is to the counter. ]
But you still remembered... Thank god. Thank god...
[ He didn't think he'd be able to stay in anyone's memories again once he started slipping out. Yamato is the first. There could be a second. And a third. Maybe it's dangerous, to have this much hope again. ]
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I'm sorry. [He'd love to make bold promises about never forgetting again or making them pay for this, but... now isn't the time.
Softly, this time--] Yato? Why are you in here? Was it those guys again, or...?
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Yato lifts himself from the counter and grimaces. ]
Yeah. Kind of. This guy wasn't targetting me, though. He was going after Aki because she helped me out back then too. She humiliated him, and I guess his pride couldn't take it. He burned down her apartment and tried to take her life, so I took his hands. Seems like a fair exchange to me.
[ Except for the part where he'd really love to have that guy's head on a platter, but Yato took what he could get. ]
You watch out too, Yasu. I don't want any more friends getting hurt because of me.
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But Yamato doesn't seem terribly surprised; now that he's not just running on kneejerk reactions, all he does is sigh, looking tired. It's not difficult to assume that Yato most likely wasn't aiming for his hands, but even if long, drawn-out torture really had been Yato's goal, Yamato doesn't think he'd be particularly fazed. He doesn't condone murder by any means, but Yato was protecting a friend--Yamato couldn't, in good faith, say that he'd never do the same thing.
Still. That doesn't mean he's happy about it. It's not a good feeling seeing Yato stuck behind bars like this, regardless of how much the other guy deserved it.]
You don't have to worry about me. I'm unkillable, remember? [Truthfully, he has strong doubts about that, and he's in no hurry to test it--nor does he want to get arrested himself, not when he's got both friends and family counting on him. But he gives Yato a small smile anyway, as if he knows for sure that he's invincible.
He can take care of himself, though. That much he really is confident about, especially knowing who he's got on his side.]
You didn't have to deal with this alone, though. [He can understand why Yato must've felt he had to, but still... surely there was a better way to take care of all this?] Now you're stuck in here, who's to say his friends aren't planning to strike back at her while you're out of the picture?
[Maybe that shouldn't be his first thought, but his priorities are a little skewed at the moment.]
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Yato leans back in his chair and crosses his arms. Yamato doesn't make a bad point, but hindsight is 20/20. And still -- Yato doesn't think his logic was wrong. ]
They already struck at her when I was still in the picture, and that's a fact. Taking care of the guy with beef as soon as possible was the safest option for her. I wasn't planning on him being able to walk away.
What would've happened if I'd called on you for help? We'd both be in jail? I can afford to be in here, Yasu, but you can't.
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He can't. It stings to admit it, even to himself, but he doesn't like to lie. He isn't selfless, he isn't infallible, and he isn't even really all that smart--not smart enough to talk his way out of a jail cell, that's for sure.]
We could've found another way. [For Yamato, of all people, to suggest solving a problem without violence... it's the biggest indication of how much he hates this situation. It's not that he doesn't care that Yato tried to kill someone, but to think that Yato could've been killed in that fight, to think about how long he's bound to be trapped in here, especially when people can't remember him as it is... it's sad. It's just too sad.]
I just... you shouldn't be in here. I don't like it. [And there it is, that childish behavior that shows up every so often. It's a weird sort of naivete, the way Yamato sees situations sometimes, cutting straight through nuances and complexities to say exactly what he's thinking. Maybe "I don't like it" should sound whiny, or almost laughable, but he says it as if that should truly be enough reason for Yato to be set free.
He hasn't forgotten their conversation from that night, either. Yato's a warrior god, or something like it. If he's begun regaining abilities, it's only logical he'd start regaining instincts, too. "I guess I didn't feel guilty about any of it either... I found it kind of fun, actually. And my dad seemed really proud of me."
He hasn't forgotten, but he stands by what he'd said. Yato isn't that person, the child-slaying child, and that's enough for Yamato to want him out of here.]
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The most childish statement is the one that reaches him most easily. He can disagree with another person's reasoning or perspective, but he can't deny their simplest of feelings.
If Yamato can expose his heart a little, then maybe so can Yato. ]
I'm sorry that you had to start remembering me like this. But I'm glad that you did start.
[ Yato wishes his heart were hardy enough to re-introduce himself to the same friends every day, to say that being able to interact with them just a little at a time could be enough. Some people are happy enough knowing that their friends are happy. Call him selfish, call him needy. He isn't a good enough person to be happy with giving and getting nothing in return.
He's a taker. That much is true. ]
I missed being able to talk like we usually do.
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[Once he'd remembered, anyway. He's not sure he'll ever stop feeling guilty about it, now that he knows how the whole thing had affected Yato; now that he's seen the relief on his face, the hurt when he'd assumed Yamato still didn't remember. Yamato can hardly imagine--he doesn't even want to try.
It's not much easier now that he does remember, though, not when the situation has come to this. He sighs, resting his head against the bars.]
What are you going to do?
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[ Well. His plans haven't changed. He only walked away because there came one witness too many. Maybe there's something wrong with him now, feeling so calm and cold about the idea of ending someone else's life. ]
I want to finish the job. Do you think that's wrong?
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Is it worse that he can't immediately say "yes"?]
I don't know. [He admits at last, quietly. It's not an answer he's happy giving, but he doesn't saying things he doesn't believe.
This... it's all so heavy. It's different from hearing about the things Yato used to do. It's even different from getting involved in an actual life-or-death fight, spurred on by adrenaline and a desire to protect his friend. Could he have killed one of those men, if he'd needed to? He can't say one way or the other, but this... this isn't getting caught up in the heat of battle. It's an act of protection, of defense, but Yato's announcing his plans here and now. There's no way he can brush it off as unintentional.] I can't say I want you to become a murderer, but it's not like I don't understand where you're coming from, either.
[Another pause, then he looks up, meeting Yato's eyes. His own are a dark gray, like a storm creeping over the horizon, ready to eclipse the sun.] Is that the only way you would be satisfied?
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But here Yamato is, saying he could have helped. So if he wants to, he can be Yato's moral compass for a spell. ]
I dunno. Satisfaction's not really what I'm after. What I want is...
[ Justice? No, Yato isn't impartial or venerable enough for that. He knew from the start that trying to kill someone, no matter how much they might deserve it, would be wrong in the eyes of humanity. It was and still is a selfish desire born of ego, the arrogance that he can determine a human being's worth.
He won't shy away from his conceit. He's used to being disagreed with. He's used to standing on the wrong side of society. So he'll be honest with Yamato, even if what he says sounds a little mad. ]
I saved him, once. As far as I'm concerned, his life belongs to me. And if the life he's led since I first met him has been unworthy, it's my right to undo the mistake of saving him.
You might be thinking, "Why not go to the police?" My answer is: he's my responsibility. He'll never know the magnitude of what he's done if a stranger arrests him. If, when I see him again, he understands that he'll never be able to strike a match or hold another person again because he doesn't deserve to, I'll think about sparing him.
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He doesn't reply immediately. But he continues to stare, like he's looking for something in Yato's face that will tell him all the answers.
But whatever answer he does find, it's clearly not what he wanted. He doesn't look any more satisfied as he lets out a breath, though his voice is remarkably even when he finally does speak.]
So you want to be that god.
[Not just "god". Not even just "a warrior god". That god, the one he'd seen in his visions, the one Yamato had assured him he wasn't.
I know you wouldn't hurt anybody for no reason.
Well. That's still true, isn't it? There is a reason for this. Whether it's a good one or not...
The thing is, it's dangerous reasoning to tread on. Even if they count this as justifiable, what's to stop that definition from expanding? Can Yato be sure, really sure, that he won't eventually turn into that little boy from his dreams?
Yamato doesn't trust himself enough to try and convey all of that through words. He's terribly good at saying all the wrong things, though it seems to happen more with Kashuu than anyone else. He's learned, over time, how to be a little more careful with what he lets out of his mouth, but that doesn't mean he's gotten any better at putting the words together. Now it's clear that he's struggling, trying to explain his feelings without hurting Yato's in the process. And maybe he shouldn't worry about that right now, but Yamato's always, always been fiercely loyal to his dearest people. Yato's trusting him enough to talk this out--the least he can do is be the friend he's looking for.]
Yato, I'm not sure... you'll really be okay with that. [He remembers perfectly well what Yato had told him, about the sort of life he'd once led. Few details, but he hadn't needed them. But he also remembers laying awake in the dead of night, trying to reassure him about the atrocities he may or may not have committed.] Sooner or later, I feel like you'll have to make a choice that isn't this easy. [And maybe it's terrible of him, to call any sort of premeditated murder "easy", but. Madness or not, at least he gets what Yato is trying to say. But it won't, he worries, hold true forever. ] If you save someone, but then turn around and kill them, then... don't they cancel out? Wouldn't that mean you're not saving anyone, in the end?
[He bites his lip, a touch of sadness creeping through.] Saving someone shouldn't mean you own them, Yato. That's not what saving people is about. You saved Aki by doing this, so does that mean you own her too?
[He doesn't wait for an answer; he already knows Yato doesn't think of his friends that way. But could he? If he starts dabbling with this sort of power, where exactly is it going to take him? Yamato wants, more than anything, to trust in Yato, to be able to stand firm in his belief that Yato is a good person, regardless of what he may or may not have done in his memories.
He isn't even sure which side he's arguing for, anymore. All he knows is that it hurts, deep inside his heart.]
I just don't want you to become something you regret.
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But Yamato is right. Yato won't ever own Aki, no matter how much he does for her. It's common sense. His friends aren't possessions; he doesn't do things for them to put them in his debt. As a human, he always valued agency and individuality in other people. He would never have claimed ownership over another.
As a god, other people are beginning to run together. He can only be so invested in a populace that treats him like air. An old part of him remembers what it was like to burst into someone else's life and tangle himself up in it in an instant; even if he wasn't always wanted, he was at least there to make a mark and carve a space out for himself. Now, the lives of normal people are intangible, cordoned away from him to see and not touch. Just blips on a radar. So foreign, so ill-defined. Is it a wonder that some strangers have little value to him? Is putting down a rotten human really much worse than putting down a rabid dog?
Yato looks at Yamato sitting across from him and sees his turmoil. Even if Yamato's argument is confused and grasping, he wants Yato to be happy with his decisions -- that much is clear. But had Yato not committed this crime, and had that man gone off and done more awful things because of it, Yato would be even unhappier than he is now. This is, he thinks, the happiest he could be with the options given, even if he isn't happy with how Yamato has been affected.
No matter how many moral questions get thrown at him, Yato doesn't feel regret over his actions. It's a fact of the heart. Even if it makes Yamato sad, Yato can't change how he feels. Maybe there's nothing to discuss beyond that. So in answer to all of Yamato's questions and concerns, Yato only says gently: ]
I'll never regret acting in a friend's interest. What's done is done.
[ He stands slowly. ]
Thanks for dropping by, Yasu. I appreciate it.
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But right now, he can't. He can't, and hates that, and he hates himself even more for feeling that way. Even Yamato gets how fucked up it is, to be willing to discuss this so rationally at all. A normal person would reject Yato, or refuse to believe he'd be capable of such a thing. But Yamato's the last person to chide someone for solving their problems through (personally justifiable) violence. As far as "normal" goes, well... he's never been one for that particular label anyway.
Yato's words are a non-answer, and they both know it. Yamato's never learned the art of elusive speech, but he's spent too long around people who have, and he recognizes the dismissal for what it is. But his own feelings are too unstable for him to push any further. He wants to, that much is obvious on face, in the way he stays sitting even as Yato stands. For a good few seconds, it seems like he really is going to keep arguing.
But then all the energy seems to drain from him at once, and he slumps a little, dejected. There's no sense in arguing, he figures, when he doesn't even know what point he's trying to make. He nods slowly, twisting his fingers and while they might be the same age, right now, he looks impossibly young.]
I'll see you soon. [Whatever happens in the future, Yato is still a good friend. And after being forgotten for so long, however unintended, it's the least he can do to make up for lost time as much as possible.
As he finally stands, he looks at Yato one more time, and he doesn't bother trying to disguise the plea that bleeds through his voice.]
Take care of yourself, okay?
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I will. [ And he means it. A bit of alone time might help him clear his head. ] ] Don't forget to use up all the food I have in the fridge. When I get back, I'll fix us up a feast.
[ He nods, and then off he goes... after he pointedly gets the security officer's attention so that he can be cuffed again and led away. Yato basically polices himself around here... ]