Silence A Tsubasa: Reservoir Chronicle vignette Sephy There is a silence where hath been no sound, There is a silence where no sound may be, In the cold grave--under the deep deep sea - Thomas Hood There are ghosts in these walls, echoes of lost sound and forgotten memories. They sing deep within the rock, without words and syllables, just a silence that stretches deep and long so that when he rests his head against the wall he can hear other places, other voices, mind racing to fill in the gaps of what was and perhaps never has been. There’s a lullaby to be found there, sometimes unadorned and sometimes so complex that it makes him dizzy, concentration straining to keep up. He’s been here forever and a day and that’s no time at all. No time that wasn’t his own, lost in his own thoughts, dreaming of skies that are always tinted sepia around the edges as if he’s seeing everything in photographs, ones scattered across the floors of his mind, needing only to reach down and pick one up to be elsewhere. It’s been this way for so long that he’s started thinking of spaces, confined and ones wide open, of ceilings that vault into forever and then no ceilings at all. No walls either. Just space unending, closing with clingy fingers around his skin, tearing and licking, invasive and he whimpers, having to shy back. There’s been damage he knows that too, because once there had been more than this. More than the timeless drift of scattered thoughts and jarring hunger, the monotony broken by the splash of water as he scrambles about, catching small creatures and biting their heads off, rewarded by a quick rush of blood that’s never enough, only serving to madden his hunger. There’s always dark here, broken only by the light of moss along the walls, glowing dull emerald, casting lights across the water. Beneath that there’s only blackness, the skim of bubbles against his skin as he sinks deeper, kicking and swimming blindly until he finds it, a warm watery cocoon, spun of air and water and magic, stronger than steel and seeming to glow faintly at his touch. There’s a sleepy murmur of recognition whispering in his mind, a voice that’s always there, always crooning or curling against his mind. He hesitates before pushing against the bubble, elastic resistance giving way beneath his determination and he feels the sphere plop around him, knowing him as he knows it, feeling the traces of a mind that was once his, given away wholly to this task, to protecting him. It has a name that was also him. Kamui. It flits in and out of his grasp, teasing like those air bubbles in the water, tickling and tormenting before it eludes him and he’s back to something more basic. There’s someone else here and he knows him, needing no memory for that. He is Subaru, sleeping and damaged just as he was, worse than he is, still healing. They’re both still healing, hiding to lick at wounds that are slow to disappear. The skin he reaches for is papery, rough and almost threatening to tear, hearing a mute whimper of discomfort as he pulls Subaru closer, shushing him with a kiss, the lips he remembers little more than distorted skin but he feels a small pulse of pleasure, particularly when he bites his tongue, letting the blood drop there. Subaru’s hunger is worse than his own, voracious and clutching, limp fingers suddenly closing around his shoulders, nails digging in, slumber giving way to near waking, body moving automatically to accept what is being given. How many times has he done this, has he held his Subaru close and fed him, pitiful offerings of animal blood and his own, too thin to do much, leaving him just as weakened with each infusion? Subaru would tell him to stop, to wait but he’s so tired of being alone, tired of the echoing memory of what once was, green eyes feral in the darkness as melted lids open, staring into nothing. He presses a kiss to the near hairless scalp, curling around Subaru protectively, feeling that presence in his mind flare, drawing him closer in an embrace that he can’t touch but feels none the less, weary comfort and affection seeping through their bond. There’s fear too, knowing how fragile Subaru is now, how vulnerable they both are and if attacked again, he isn’t sure there’s enough of either of them left to put up a decent defense. They can’t even move worlds, drained as they are, and even with everything else slipping from him, he can still hear the sounds of footsteps doggedly pursuing, the fear that accompanies them and after the last time… His dreams are full of fire, white limbs catching, gold and blue flames spitting and licking up that delicate form, soft black hair gone in the first blaze, the way everything seems to melt as he throws himself at Subaru, burning his skin too, as he tries to save the other boy, doing the only thing he can and opening a portal with no thought other than away. And away they went, to the farthest reaches of any civilized world, Subaru screaming still as they crashed, sand in oozing wounds and then – They were here. In this place, a watery cavern that no one has seen with no signs of life save those things that slither or swim in its depths, the water soothing Subaru where little else has been able to. There’s nothing to hunt here beyond that, no people or larger animals. Nothing that can give him any real sustenance, nothing that he can use to strengthen his own weakened blood and use to heal Subaru. Here there is only time, spiraling out before them without end, a world of nothing, not even hope. They have each other though, even if he can’t always remember who he is and Subaru can do little more but wrap thoughts around his, nudging him this way or that, whispering to him in the long dark, soothing away the fears and the nightmares. They’ve always been together and he can’t imagine a day when they won’t be except that now he can, having glimpsed that possibility in an inferno of immortal flesh. If he tightens his arms around Subaru, holding him closer, Subaru doesn’t seem to mind. If anything, he’s holding on right back, tendrils of needy thought and destroyed flesh, two leviathans laid low and waiting for the day when they’ll rise again. ***End [ back ]
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