Saturday, post trial

[doublesmall]

[when chuuya comes to find shinssin this time, it's with a vintage bottle of wine tucked under one arm. if he thinks he needs a drink after all that himself?...

well. he figures he might need to share.

so wherever he happens to be, chuuya's either taking a seat or leaning on a wall or something nearby.]

...hey. Figure asking how you're doing is a stupid question, but-- half this is yours, if you want it.

Comments

what's fucked up is that i never tagged this

[shinssin]

Fucked up? Nah.

[ This time, the silence lasts longer as he drinks from the bottle and turns Chuuya's words over. His master's approval, huh? That would be nice.

But no. Whatever he and Chuuya have done up to this point is not a duty. ]

Just means you're still kicking inside. That's good. Remember that.

[ It's only the whim of a performer who knows what it's like to lose himself in the roles he plays— ]

One day, it's gonna be all we got.

[ —and a fighter who can only reclaim himself with a violence that is intimately familiar. ]

[doublesmall]

I think it already is.

[maybe it's just the alcohol in his system or maybe it's just that chuuya feels like they have something of an understanding; either way, it's easier to say things like this, now.]

All I have right now is that will to keep fighting, you know? I don't know why I did the things I did when I was alive, I don't have any idea what kept me going... I just know I need to make it now, so that I can get it back. If I stop, I won't have anything left.