[HE'S BACK ON HIS FEET HELP. But he doesn't run this time, at least. He seems dazed and pretty out of it, actually, even though just looking at Mandricardo seems to be difficult for him. All he can do is shake his head, pause, shake it again. No, no, that won't do at all--]
They-- no, they need any treatment more. I can treat my own injuries. Save your supplies, please--
[Yeah he's gonna splint his own legs (he doesn't know how to splint legs).
In any case, it's - he hates seeing people upset, especially when he's the cause. But it keeps happening and it keeps happening and it keeps happening and it's just as it says, what it's said has been true all along, of course, because that horrid thing is always too, too honest--
He steps back, and his expression shifts to something vicious, but it's more like a wounded animal than anything actually aggressive.]
I will not allow anyone else to waste their time with someone such as myself. I will not have it.
[Mandricardo's hands drop to his sides, limp, as he gazes at Sakyou for a long moment. Waste their time...?]
Sakyou...
[And then it's as if something snaps, and his own expression shifts, almost vicious itself.]
Are we not FRIENDS? [And it comes out so sharply, so boldly, in the same tone he had yesterday in all his kingly nature. He then winces at his own self, shaking his head.] Ugh. What I mean...what I mean is...Sakyou. You are not a waste of my time, and you never have been, and if you think YOU are the one who decides if you're a waste or not, then hear this! You CANNOT tell me my own feelings-! I want to help! And I will continue to want to help, because you're my friend, damn it!
[It's startling, honestly. He doesn't expect such a fearsome outburst from Mandricardo of all people, who'd very nearly cried when just accepting that they were friends mere days ago. A part of him is touched.
A bigger part of him is just more upset than before. This is the last thing he wants, the last thing he's wanted, to take up room in the life of anyone who didn't deserve to be dragged through the mud that Sakyou's soul inhabits. He'd been foolish. He had thought things may be different with these people, who knew the same things he knew. The same pains, the same failures.
But in the end, he's still far below anyone else. He takes a step back. The feral edge had been knocked out of his expression earlier due to the sheer shock over Mandricardo's reaction, but with nothing to replace it, it's just blank, like an icy, lifeless sculpture of a fairytale princess.]
...I'm telling you this because you would say such words to me, and mean them. [Sometimes, you just gotta push someone away because you're friends!] You don't know. You don't know the things I've done, or the things that I would do. I am not a person to be associated with. If you let me close, I'll only drag you to hell.
[It's funny. The day yesterday was a day of boasting, kingly demands, and arrogant acts of power. Today, he's just Mandricardo. Weak, third-rate Mandricardo. Greatest fear: being useless.]
[And damn, does he feel useless now. Its part of the reason why, as Sakyou speaks, angry tears start welling up in his eyes. He wants to do something for his friend, and now he's saying such things, and the more this goes on, the more the word rings in his head, like a plaintive bell.]
[Useless, useless, useless.]
Ha. What do you know...? [And he shakes his head, his lips drawn back into a grimace.] I should already belong to hell. Do you know how many I have killed? Do you know what I've done, Sakyou? Do you know what kind of man I was? And yet you accepted my friendship, even not knowing any of that, and then...and t-then you presume that I wouldn't do the same for you?
[He takes a step closer. His eyes may be wet with tears, but there's a fire in them that clearly isn't going out.]
Stop telling me words that I should be saying to you. You might be some kinda killer or villain or something...it doesn't matter to me. I've been there. Maybe I'm still there. But for now, you - you - are a man and my friend who needs my help, and I won't take no for an answer.
[That's what he thought, at first. That maybe, maybe, it wouldn't be too bad to stay near Mandricardo. Because if they both knew the fuel of vengeance, then surely they both understood what came with it. The blood. The brutality. Dirtying your hands over and over, all for the sake of that single goal which you would reach for whatever the cost. He thought it might be alright, that he wouldn't have to worry about the way his presence brings ruin to the lives of others if they weren't perfectly clean. A horrid way of thinking.
And yet, when Mandricardo steps forward, all Sakyou can see is the look on his face in those final moments.
Failure. Collapse. We have people we want to save too. H̸̛̝̹̤͚̜͙̻͂̋̔̂̑̎͊̄͌̈̚͝͝o̶̲̲̳͈̰̺̐́w̴̢̧̛̗̞̳̣̘̗̲̼̦̽̋̂͗͝ͅ ̶̡̛̖̬̣̩̏͜f̷̢̳̘̩̟͛̑͗̚o̴̫͙̣̠̕ǫ̸̬͔̤̟͈͖̩̐͛͗̆́̈́ͅl̵̡̞͓͍̇͒̚͜͠ĭ̴̥̣̖̹̰̆̇̌̈̿s̴̡̫̬̯͍̗͓̞̭͍̟͉͝h̶̢̠̱̑̆̔̍̏̀͂͘.̷̡͔͓͍͋
Sakyou is like an ink, who spreads and stains what surrounds it. Through the misery wrought upon those stuck with him, through the suffering he'd brought on with his own two hands, he's just reaffirmed the truth of it today.
The lacquer of the sheathed blade in his hand catches the light of the moon. I̵̢̙͎͎͍̓͐̀̄̏̄͒̕s̸̞̘̣͉̖͚̹̆͗͌̋̄͋̔̀̅̌͂́́̋ņ̸̳͚̼͎̥͔̯͖̟͎͓͒̌̎̒̎͂̈́̄̂̂̓̚͘'̴̛̣͖̝̘̪̄̅̾̑́̌̚͠t̷̝͙̪͍͎̮̮̬̞̘̔́͗͑́ͅ ̵̪̺̤̂̉̔̈́̇̊̌͝î̸̺͔̖̌̈́͋́̓̃̏́̈́̿̚̕t̶̨̙̙̘̤̠̻̝̐̇͜ ̵̥͔͙͔̤͎͉̜̘̌̅͗́ͅà̴̢̰̞̖̗̜͙͉̠̭̹͈͓͊̅̆̽͌̀̀̚l̸̙̳͓̘̠̋w̷̛̻̄̒̈́̃̍̿̉͆̆̀͝͝͠ä̵̟̼́̋̔̓͋͠y̷̢̡̢̨̬̱̘̼̪̙̪̻̺̍̅͗̆̕s̸̡̨̗͍̳̟̬͉̑͑̇̓͒̿͛̑̇͗̂̋͜͝͝͝ ̴̪͐̎̀̈́̅̍͂͝ͅl̸̗̏̀̓͗̋̕͝͠î̸͇͙̌̐͌̈́̍k̷̰̃̑̇̌̆̔̔̐͂̀̓̚͝e̴͚͓͙̠͖̝͍̭̙̱̲̙̾̌̂͛̃͆̐̕͜͜ ̸̧̘͈̣̖͇̱̟̪̟̯͓̫̹̯͆͋̑͊̍́̈́̆͂̔͊͘͝t̵̪͖͈̼̺̠̻̥͛̃̈́̃̓͋̄̈̚h̴̡͙̘̱̀̄̏̒̚ȋ̷̬s̸̨͖̗͈̞̣͔̮̮̟̞̯̾̓̌̂̈́̎̎͐͜?̶̨̢̹̜̯͙̹̯̱̎̈́̏͌̔͘͜͝ ]
It-- no. No. It isn't the same. Nothing about it is the same. Villains or killers, adventurers who would mow down armies, all of the things you leave behind in your past - it's not that. You don't understand, you don't—
[He cuts off, glancing down, taking another two steps back. Quiet, first: then a soft that's not... that trails off. He shakes his head, and then shakes it again. He doesn't cry. No tears well up. But again, he looks pained, truly and deeply.
And we shall not have superficial dreams nor be deluded...]
...This isn't for me. None of this is mine to have, and I won't take it. I will not be so cruel to you, who deserves anything but cruelty. This time, you will be safe from me.
[It's time again, to wake up from the dream, isn't it?]
[It's such a bizarre phrase that he has to repeat it, staring at Sakyou incredulously.]
When have you ever hurt me...?
[Is he talking about that first night? No. It can't be. Then what else? What else is there? Mandricardo, cheeks stained with tears now flowing freely, shakes his head.]
Being your friend means...accepting what you give me. Happiness, cruelty, whatever. I-I only can exist for a short time in this world, as a Heroic Spirit. I may have a Master, but what I do with my time, my body, it's still...mine. Okay?
[He sniffs.]
If I don't understand...help me to understand. I'm not the best talker, or listener, but...come on. Come on Sakyou. If you...if you think you throwin' all this away is gonna save me, or whatever, then get that damn thought out of your head, because it won't! I will be the one who decides if you're too cruel! And right now, you aren't! Regardless of what you saw, what you did, you aren't cruel, and I'm not leavin' until I help you!
[He can be cruel, and he should be cruel, and he opens his mouth to do so, because sometimes cruelty is a kindness in and of itself and it's the only kindness he really, really knows. But-- he's weak. He's a horrid, weak creature, and the thought of intentionally shredding something so precious is a thought that crushes him, as he is now.
But he listens to what Mandricardo says, and stares at his face with a sort of mournful air, watching tears catch the light.]
...This is all that I can do.
[Bring misery to those he cares for. Hurt and hurt, with his own two hands. Everywhere he is, suffering follows. To look at the people who deserve the best in the world and see their expressions twisted in pain, in sorrow - to see them crying over and over, because they had the misfortune of crossing paths with him...
He can't continue to be as selfish as he's been.
Another step back, and another; a leg buckles a little, but he doesn't fall this time. He holds the sword - sheathed, at least - up to his chest, as though it's a shield.]
I don't need help. I can treat my own injuries, so - let me help you, instead. Please.
[Can't believe his stupid ass is like this but he's absolutely going to try turning and booking it again.]
[The moment Sakyou turns, Mandricardo's teeth grit together - and he's launching himself forward to grasp the back of the other's collar. He isn't going to yank him harshly back, but his grip is strong, unable to let go.]
This isn't helping me, idiot! What do ya think I was goin' to say to that? "Oh, right, let me let Sakyou die in the woods. Why not! Makes me feel better!"
[He's still crying, but the tears are burning, as hot as the fire in his look.]
Y'know, I'm scared of failure. I don't like talkin' with people. Maybe it would be fine to be alone forever. But deep down, I'm jealous! I'm so jealous! I just want to be around someone...someone who could see eye to eye with me...don't...don't you want that, too?
[He shakes his head.]
I'd rather hurt with you rather than suffer on my own. I'd rather know suffering with you rather than just wallow in my own failure alone forever. I told you, I'm useless. And I'm useless if I can't do anything for you, as a friend.
[mandricardo truly does not deserve having to deal with this hotass mess and i aki am crying in the club
In any case!! Since he's grabbed Sakyou's collar - which is more of a black turtleneck, given his bizarre get-up - he'll probably be able to see the letters scrawled out across the nape of his neck when Sakyou jerks forward instinctively. They glow in the dimness of the night and simply read: staining. Sakyou is an ink, after all. The sort of person who leaves an indelible, disgusting mark on everything it touches.
He listens though, first, not facing Mandricardo. How terrible. What a terrible thing. They're still similar in so many ways. To want to reach out toward someone who understands, who can see eye to eye... Mandricardo is not Kayo. He's not the same pristine sheet of white paper, just one wrong move away from being tainted due to his selfish, wanting nature. Of the people here who understand his desire for vengeance, Mandricardo had been the first, and the first to not turn him away for it.
And yet, things still happened as they did, back then.
He can't be fucking normal for even five seconds though, because quite suddenly, he whips around to face Mandricardo as best he can, despite the strong grip. It sends pain shooting up both legs, but he has unmatched stoicism and it hardly shows beyond a flinch. Then, with a wordless shout, he just fuckin full-body launches himself at this sweet emotional lad with the full intent to try breaking his grip and knocking him down onto the forest floor.
[Like corruption? Being tainted? Mandricardo stares for a moment at the glowing words, eyebrows furrowed, but wise enough to know this isn't the time to ask. Anyways, now Sakyou should be listening right? Sakyou will let him help him, right...?]
Ah-!
[And suddenly, without warning, Sakyou jumps forward - Mandricardo, shocked, instantly lets go, toppling backwards. But as he does so, as if to find purchase for this inevitable fall, his arms surround the other's upper body to fully pull them both down. The embrace Mandricardo gives only tightens when they finally reach the ground, panicking that Sakyou will use this chance to bolt and be gone for good. His voice cracks as he tries to keep the man close to himself, his body trembling.]
I won't let you go! I won't, I won't-!
Edited (DONT MOBILE TAG KIDS) 2021-06-18 23:11 (UTC)
[There's a pained yelp as he falls, since he hadn't been expecting that for some fuckin reason! At least Mandricardo is here to break his fall so his bruises and little broken bonesies aren't rattled around too badly. Up this close, he'll probably be able to smell the iron tang of blood, gunpowder and burned fabric from Sakyou's messy outfit.
He's also immediately struggling for FREEDOM like a puffed up cat, despite the fact that it's probably reopening some of his cuts. God. Now he's going to make Mandricardo a mess, too. Unsurprising - that's the way it always is. Part of his sword is also probably awkwardly just wedged between them which is surely not comfortable for anyone here, but it's fine.]
Why don't you get it—?!
[It's not accusatory and not exactly angry. There's something in his voice that almost sounds panicked, actually. That said, his adrenaline sure is failing him, and if Mandricardo insists on holding on throughout his period of struggle, he'll eventually falter and wheeze a little.]
[And he holds. Because if there's one thing Mandricardo is, past the worry, the anxiety, the abandoned nature to stand as king and conquer all that's before him, it's stubbornness. Sheer stubbornness. Sakyou panics against him, writhes, and he holds strong, even as the scent of blood soaks into his own clothing.]
[He can't let this go. He won't let this go. He maybe be half-hearted and a bit of a coward, but he can't be a coward for this.]
I have my own willpower, and if I wanna do this, then I WANNA DO THIS, and you can't stop me from takin' care of you as your friend, bastard!
[THEY ARE TWO EXTREMELY, EXTREMELY STUBBORN LADS HATE THIS FOR BOTH OF THEM!!
But unfortunately for him, Mandricardo has the advantage here, since he's not dealing with [redacted], [redacted] or [redacted] right now. Unlike this idiot! Who's doing his best!! For the worst things!!
In any case, he doesn't say anything. He's still not crying - he doesn't cry easily, despite the way he'd nearly done so that day in the woods. But his face twists up like he might, for a second...
And then he just sort of plonks his head down against Mandricardo, his breathing strained. He's still conscious despite the way the fight seems to leave him quite suddenly, but he's quiet, for now. What does one say to that? It's too painful. He doesn't have it in him after everything to fight as ferociously as he normally might. It just hurts. Everything hurts.]
[The man slumps, and Mandricardo lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding.]
[It a slow, gentle move, one of his hands moves to rest at the back of the other's head, and then quietly strokes down. He does that for a moment, also catching his breath.]
[There's just a little strangled noise of frustration and he shifts like he's attempting to Hit This Man, which is of course quite difficult in their current position. Sometimes you just do shit, though. At least it's a very flimsy hit, considering he's both Trapped and Tired. On a wheezed-out breath:]
I don't care about that...
[TRULY HE DOES NOT GIVE A SINGLE SHIT ABOUT HIS OWN SELF. He doesn't care that he's safe - more than anything, he's just upset that he's too emotionally and physically drained to do anything useful about this.
...But it's nice. If he allowed himself even the smallest sliver of comfort, he could easily say that the gentle reassurance - the soft hand against his head, the kind words - are nice.
[He says, with some muted annoyance. Just hit him. Why not. He's tired, and be can imagine how tired and in pain Sakyou is. He'll allow him this.]
[But this reaction...just how deep does the self-loathing go? Its a shock to Mandricardo, who thought he was the one to be Mr. Self Hatred around here. He speaks up again, trying to keep his voice level.]
...Tell me what happened. At least...tell me that. [And a beat.] Bradley told me he saw me...wherever he was. If I was there, and did somethin' to you...I'm sorry. It wasn't me, but...
[It goes all the way down to hell lads, all the way down...
At least he doesn't go for a second hit, even though his body tenses like he's going to for a second. He's very tempted. But more than that, he just wants to have enough energy and strength to tear away and go dash into the woods never to be seen again. GOD.
Wow though can't believe Mandricardo really did torture both parties. He freezes up a little, tension winding through his exhausted body like a coil at the mention of that. It's a little easier like this, at least. Not having to look him directly in the face.]
Don't apologize. [Immediately, and also confirming that He Was Indeed There.] I-- Sieghart-dono said that it wasn't real. And it isn't something... to apologize for. We all have people we wish to protect.
[It's an odd feeling, knowing that for these people, he was some kind of horrible illusion, used to traumatize and destroy. His own body tenses at the thought- so was he a villain, perhaps? Just like before...?]
...If you had to hurt or kill that other me...its okay. You had to do what you had to do. Especially...if I was going to cause ya harm.
[He adjusts his grip slightly, turning his face to rest in the crook of the other's neck.]
I want to protect you, though. Even if its from a villain like me.
[He probably smells nasty and he's also sweaty and bloody, but he's not going to push Mandricardo away. His heart thuds in his chest, still running on the dregs of adrenaline and the unpleasantness of All Of This, but... he's quiet. For a few seconds, he doesn't say anything. Then, softly:]
...I didn't. [Hurt or kill him.] The situation was set up in a way that encouraged us to do so, but the second time we tried, we were able to do what we needed to without directly harming you three.
[Though he realizes that this will just sound more confusing out of context, and honestly - hilariously - the actual events aren't most of what he takes the biggest issue with. So, after a sigh:]
We were brought to another world and made to complete an objective. Steal an airship, get to the ruins. Any time we died in our attempts to do so, we were brought back to a moment slightly before our deaths. At the ruins, you and two of the others were there - holding hostages. People from our own worlds, I presume... I believe your objective was to kill them to protect your own loved ones.
[He says all of this very clinically, like he's reciting something he read somewhere else.
Can you believe a lad's self-hatred is so intense that he made it sound like he was the one who killed Mandricardo, absolutely hilarious.]
[But...hostages? And dying, returning to moments before death...from what little he knows of it, it does sound like a video game. Multiple lives to try, and try again.]
...I see. Thanks for tellin' me. That sounds...terrible. Funny thing, really...all my loved ones are here. Home isn't a thing for me, anymore.
[But he knows that isn't the point. The point is that even not hurting that other him still shook him up, somehow, made him go deep into this whole "you can't be with me" spiral. He turns his head, giving the other a level look, and gives another stroke over his head.]
...So you guys found a way around it. That's good. But...were you thinking you'd do something similar as that other me? Do somethin' so drastic as taking hostages to save others?
It sure was a ride, though! Sure was!! He purses his lips a little at the remark about his home; further affirmation that the people there really were likely fake, at least. He doesn't want to ruminate on it too deeply.
But Sakyou finally shifts to meet that level look. Compared to the fury, there's just - a strange combination of exhaustion and iciness. That had been part of the problem, without a doubt, albeit just one part.]
To save others, I would kill without hesitation if there was no other way. I would dirty my hands in any way necessary.
[That's what he does. He protects fiercely in the bloodiest of ways. The only reason he hadn't killed is because they'd failed once and found an immediate solution the second time, but he had been ready.]
[Beneaty the elegance, the grace, the smooth exterior lies a tempest, it seems. Like the gentle surface of the ocean, with a whirlpool ready to tug anything in.]
[But there's no judgement from him on that. He just lets out a little sigh, closing his eyes momentarily. Even with his own exhaustion, he knows how much Sakyou must be feeling on his own.]
...After my father was killed...I took out my rage on others. I was bloodthirsty, ready to fight whatever I saw. It was only when I was told who did the deed that I became focused. But even then, that feeling never went away.
[A persisting wrath, ready to burn and destroy where it could.]
Even now...I don't think I would be someone to shy away from that. Better me who kills than leave that to someone else. My hands are already dirty, so...might as well. So...I get it. I do.
Maybe it is similar, then. Maybe a little more similar than he'd thought.
It's an ugliness that Sakyou does his best to keep hidden, unless he's actively trying to push people away; in that case, he puts as much of it on display as he can bear to. Like a celestial body, the intensity of his hatred and fury burn white-hot at his core, largely hidden by his polite and mild demeanor. But one crack is all it takes, right? One crack and the hideous insides are exposed, bubbling to the surface and rocking the shell of his carefully curated presentation to bits.
It's similar, but it's still not the same. He's too exhausted to try hammering that point home, though. The longer he goes without moving, the more his body aches. He closes his eyes; breathing in and out, the expansion of his ribs sends thrums of pain up his spine and fanning across his sides.]
...It never does go away, does it? [He doesn't anticipate that happening so easily even if-- when-- he succeeds. How unfortunate. How sad.]
When one walks down such a path, there's no place to rest. There is no turning back. Once your hands are stained, all you can do is keep them to yourself, so no one else gets caught in the mess you leave behind.
[...Maybe it's a little comforting to know he's not the only one, in a cruel and twisted way.]
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They-- no, they need any treatment more. I can treat my own injuries. Save your supplies, please--
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[Annoyance punctuates his tone, but its still clearly worried. He grits his teeth - already, his eyes are watering a little.]
I didn't just come here to leave you behind! Come on! Please...let me look at you, please...
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In any case, it's - he hates seeing people upset, especially when he's the cause. But it keeps happening and it keeps happening and it keeps happening and it's just as it says, what it's said has been true all along, of course, because that horrid thing is always too, too honest--
He steps back, and his expression shifts to something vicious, but it's more like a wounded animal than anything actually aggressive.]
I will not allow anyone else to waste their time with someone such as myself. I will not have it.
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[It feels like a slap to the face.]
[Mandricardo's hands drop to his sides, limp, as he gazes at Sakyou for a long moment. Waste their time...?]
Sakyou...
[And then it's as if something snaps, and his own expression shifts, almost vicious itself.]
Are we not FRIENDS? [And it comes out so sharply, so boldly, in the same tone he had yesterday in all his kingly nature. He then winces at his own self, shaking his head.] Ugh. What I mean...what I mean is...Sakyou. You are not a waste of my time, and you never have been, and if you think YOU are the one who decides if you're a waste or not, then hear this! You CANNOT tell me my own feelings-! I want to help! And I will continue to want to help, because you're my friend, damn it!
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A bigger part of him is just more upset than before. This is the last thing he wants, the last thing he's wanted, to take up room in the life of anyone who didn't deserve to be dragged through the mud that Sakyou's soul inhabits. He'd been foolish. He had thought things may be different with these people, who knew the same things he knew. The same pains, the same failures.
But in the end, he's still far below anyone else. He takes a step back. The feral edge had been knocked out of his expression earlier due to the sheer shock over Mandricardo's reaction, but with nothing to replace it, it's just blank, like an icy, lifeless sculpture of a fairytale princess.]
...I'm telling you this because you would say such words to me, and mean them. [Sometimes, you just gotta push someone away because you're friends!] You don't know. You don't know the things I've done, or the things that I would do. I am not a person to be associated with. If you let me close, I'll only drag you to hell.
[The Drama In This Lad.]
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[And damn, does he feel useless now. Its part of the reason why, as Sakyou speaks, angry tears start welling up in his eyes. He wants to do something for his friend, and now he's saying such things, and the more this goes on, the more the word rings in his head, like a plaintive bell.]
[Useless, useless, useless.]
Ha. What do you know...? [And he shakes his head, his lips drawn back into a grimace.] I should already belong to hell. Do you know how many I have killed? Do you know what I've done, Sakyou? Do you know what kind of man I was? And yet you accepted my friendship, even not knowing any of that, and then...and t-then you presume that I wouldn't do the same for you?
[He takes a step closer. His eyes may be wet with tears, but there's a fire in them that clearly isn't going out.]
Stop telling me words that I should be saying to you. You might be some kinda killer or villain or something...it doesn't matter to me. I've been there. Maybe I'm still there. But for now, you - you - are a man and my friend who needs my help, and I won't take no for an answer.
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And yet, when Mandricardo steps forward, all Sakyou can see is the look on his face in those final moments.
Failure. Collapse. We have people we want to save too. H̸̛̝̹̤͚̜͙̻͂̋̔̂̑̎͊̄͌̈̚͝͝o̶̲̲̳͈̰̺̐́w̴̢̧̛̗̞̳̣̘̗̲̼̦̽̋̂͗͝ͅ ̶̡̛̖̬̣̩̏͜f̷̢̳̘̩̟͛̑͗̚o̴̫͙̣̠̕ǫ̸̬͔̤̟͈͖̩̐͛͗̆́̈́ͅl̵̡̞͓͍̇͒̚͜͠ĭ̴̥̣̖̹̰̆̇̌̈̿s̴̡̫̬̯͍̗͓̞̭͍̟͉͝h̶̢̠̱̑̆̔̍̏̀͂͘.̷̡͔͓͍͋
Sakyou is like an ink, who spreads and stains what surrounds it. Through the misery wrought upon those stuck with him, through the suffering he'd brought on with his own two hands, he's just reaffirmed the truth of it today.
The lacquer of the sheathed blade in his hand catches the light of the moon. I̵̢̙͎͎͍̓͐̀̄̏̄͒̕s̸̞̘̣͉̖͚̹̆͗͌̋̄͋̔̀̅̌͂́́̋ņ̸̳͚̼͎̥͔̯͖̟͎͓͒̌̎̒̎͂̈́̄̂̂̓̚͘'̴̛̣͖̝̘̪̄̅̾̑́̌̚͠t̷̝͙̪͍͎̮̮̬̞̘̔́͗͑́ͅ ̵̪̺̤̂̉̔̈́̇̊̌͝î̸̺͔̖̌̈́͋́̓̃̏́̈́̿̚̕t̶̨̙̙̘̤̠̻̝̐̇͜ ̵̥͔͙͔̤͎͉̜̘̌̅͗́ͅà̴̢̰̞̖̗̜͙͉̠̭̹͈͓͊̅̆̽͌̀̀̚l̸̙̳͓̘̠̋w̷̛̻̄̒̈́̃̍̿̉͆̆̀͝͝͠ä̵̟̼́̋̔̓͋͠y̷̢̡̢̨̬̱̘̼̪̙̪̻̺̍̅͗̆̕s̸̡̨̗͍̳̟̬͉̑͑̇̓͒̿͛̑̇͗̂̋͜͝͝͝ ̴̪͐̎̀̈́̅̍͂͝ͅl̸̗̏̀̓͗̋̕͝͠î̸͇͙̌̐͌̈́̍k̷̰̃̑̇̌̆̔̔̐͂̀̓̚͝e̴͚͓͙̠͖̝͍̭̙̱̲̙̾̌̂͛̃͆̐̕͜͜ ̸̧̘͈̣̖͇̱̟̪̟̯͓̫̹̯͆͋̑͊̍́̈́̆͂̔͊͘͝t̵̪͖͈̼̺̠̻̥͛̃̈́̃̓͋̄̈̚h̴̡͙̘̱̀̄̏̒̚ȋ̷̬s̸̨͖̗͈̞̣͔̮̮̟̞̯̾̓̌̂̈́̎̎͐͜?̶̨̢̹̜̯͙̹̯̱̎̈́̏͌̔͘͜͝ ]
It-- no. No. It isn't the same. Nothing about it is the same. Villains or killers, adventurers who would mow down armies, all of the things you leave behind in your past - it's not that. You don't understand, you don't—
[He cuts off, glancing down, taking another two steps back. Quiet, first: then a soft that's not... that trails off. He shakes his head, and then shakes it again. He doesn't cry. No tears well up. But again, he looks pained, truly and deeply.
And we shall not have superficial dreams nor be deluded...]
...This isn't for me. None of this is mine to have, and I won't take it. I will not be so cruel to you, who deserves anything but cruelty. This time, you will be safe from me.
[It's time again, to wake up from the dream, isn't it?]
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[It's such a bizarre phrase that he has to repeat it, staring at Sakyou incredulously.]
When have you ever hurt me...?
[Is he talking about that first night? No. It can't be. Then what else? What else is there? Mandricardo, cheeks stained with tears now flowing freely, shakes his head.]
Being your friend means...accepting what you give me. Happiness, cruelty, whatever. I-I only can exist for a short time in this world, as a Heroic Spirit. I may have a Master, but what I do with my time, my body, it's still...mine. Okay?
[He sniffs.]
If I don't understand...help me to understand. I'm not the best talker, or listener, but...come on. Come on Sakyou. If you...if you think you throwin' all this away is gonna save me, or whatever, then get that damn thought out of your head, because it won't! I will be the one who decides if you're too cruel! And right now, you aren't! Regardless of what you saw, what you did, you aren't cruel, and I'm not leavin' until I help you!
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But he listens to what Mandricardo says, and stares at his face with a sort of mournful air, watching tears catch the light.]
...This is all that I can do.
[Bring misery to those he cares for. Hurt and hurt, with his own two hands. Everywhere he is, suffering follows. To look at the people who deserve the best in the world and see their expressions twisted in pain, in sorrow - to see them crying over and over, because they had the misfortune of crossing paths with him...
He can't continue to be as selfish as he's been.
Another step back, and another; a leg buckles a little, but he doesn't fall this time. He holds the sword - sheathed, at least - up to his chest, as though it's a shield.]
I don't need help. I can treat my own injuries, so - let me help you, instead. Please.
[Can't believe his stupid ass is like this but he's absolutely going to try turning and booking it again.]
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[The moment Sakyou turns, Mandricardo's teeth grit together - and he's launching himself forward to grasp the back of the other's collar. He isn't going to yank him harshly back, but his grip is strong, unable to let go.]
This isn't helping me, idiot! What do ya think I was goin' to say to that? "Oh, right, let me let Sakyou die in the woods. Why not! Makes me feel better!"
[He's still crying, but the tears are burning, as hot as the fire in his look.]
Y'know, I'm scared of failure. I don't like talkin' with people. Maybe it would be fine to be alone forever. But deep down, I'm jealous! I'm so jealous! I just want to be around someone...someone who could see eye to eye with me...don't...don't you want that, too?
[He shakes his head.]
I'd rather hurt with you rather than suffer on my own. I'd rather know suffering with you rather than just wallow in my own failure alone forever. I told you, I'm useless. And I'm useless if I can't do anything for you, as a friend.
[His shoulders are shaking.]
Please...please...Sakyou...let me help you.
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In any case!! Since he's grabbed Sakyou's collar - which is more of a black turtleneck, given his bizarre get-up - he'll probably be able to see the letters scrawled out across the nape of his neck when Sakyou jerks forward instinctively. They glow in the dimness of the night and simply read: staining. Sakyou is an ink, after all. The sort of person who leaves an indelible, disgusting mark on everything it touches.
He listens though, first, not facing Mandricardo. How terrible. What a terrible thing. They're still similar in so many ways. To want to reach out toward someone who understands, who can see eye to eye... Mandricardo is not Kayo. He's not the same pristine sheet of white paper, just one wrong move away from being tainted due to his selfish, wanting nature. Of the people here who understand his desire for vengeance, Mandricardo had been the first, and the first to not turn him away for it.
And yet, things still happened as they did, back then.
He can't be fucking normal for even five seconds though, because quite suddenly, he whips around to face Mandricardo as best he can, despite the strong grip. It sends pain shooting up both legs, but he has unmatched stoicism and it hardly shows beyond a flinch. Then, with a wordless shout, he just fuckin full-body launches himself at this sweet emotional lad with the full intent to try breaking his grip and knocking him down onto the forest floor.
It's fine.]
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[Like corruption? Being tainted? Mandricardo stares for a moment at the glowing words, eyebrows furrowed, but wise enough to know this isn't the time to ask. Anyways, now Sakyou should be listening right? Sakyou will let him help him, right...?]
Ah-!
[And suddenly, without warning, Sakyou jumps forward - Mandricardo, shocked, instantly lets go, toppling backwards. But as he does so, as if to find purchase for this inevitable fall, his arms surround the other's upper body to fully pull them both down. The embrace Mandricardo gives only tightens when they finally reach the ground, panicking that Sakyou will use this chance to bolt and be gone for good. His voice cracks as he tries to keep the man close to himself, his body trembling.]
I won't let you go! I won't, I won't-!
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He's also immediately struggling for FREEDOM like a puffed up cat, despite the fact that it's probably reopening some of his cuts. God. Now he's going to make Mandricardo a mess, too. Unsurprising - that's the way it always is. Part of his sword is also probably awkwardly just wedged between them which is surely not comfortable for anyone here, but it's fine.]
Why don't you get it—?!
[It's not accusatory and not exactly angry. There's something in his voice that almost sounds panicked, actually. That said, his adrenaline sure is failing him, and if Mandricardo insists on holding on throughout his period of struggle, he'll eventually falter and wheeze a little.]
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[And he holds. Because if there's one thing Mandricardo is, past the worry, the anxiety, the abandoned nature to stand as king and conquer all that's before him, it's stubbornness. Sheer stubbornness. Sakyou panics against him, writhes, and he holds strong, even as the scent of blood soaks into his own clothing.]
[He can't let this go. He won't let this go. He maybe be half-hearted and a bit of a coward, but he can't be a coward for this.]
I have my own willpower, and if I wanna do this, then I WANNA DO THIS, and you can't stop me from takin' care of you as your friend, bastard!
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But unfortunately for him, Mandricardo has the advantage here, since he's not dealing with [redacted], [redacted] or [redacted] right now. Unlike this idiot! Who's doing his best!! For the worst things!!
In any case, he doesn't say anything. He's still not crying - he doesn't cry easily, despite the way he'd nearly done so that day in the woods. But his face twists up like he might, for a second...
And then he just sort of plonks his head down against Mandricardo, his breathing strained. He's still conscious despite the way the fight seems to leave him quite suddenly, but he's quiet, for now. What does one say to that? It's too painful. He doesn't have it in him after everything to fight as ferociously as he normally might. It just hurts. Everything hurts.]
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[The man slumps, and Mandricardo lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding.]
[It a slow, gentle move, one of his hands moves to rest at the back of the other's head, and then quietly strokes down. He does that for a moment, also catching his breath.]
You're safe. You're safe, okay?
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I don't care about that...
[TRULY HE DOES NOT GIVE A SINGLE SHIT ABOUT HIS OWN SELF. He doesn't care that he's safe - more than anything, he's just upset that he's too emotionally and physically drained to do anything useful about this.
...But it's nice. If he allowed himself even the smallest sliver of comfort, he could easily say that the gentle reassurance - the soft hand against his head, the kind words - are nice.
It just upsets him more.]
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[He says, with some muted annoyance. Just hit him. Why not. He's tired, and be can imagine how tired and in pain Sakyou is. He'll allow him this.]
[But this reaction...just how deep does the self-loathing go? Its a shock to Mandricardo, who thought he was the one to be Mr. Self Hatred around here. He speaks up again, trying to keep his voice level.]
...Tell me what happened. At least...tell me that. [And a beat.] Bradley told me he saw me...wherever he was. If I was there, and did somethin' to you...I'm sorry. It wasn't me, but...
[It feels like he has to apologize, somehow.]
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At least he doesn't go for a second hit, even though his body tenses like he's going to for a second. He's very tempted. But more than that, he just wants to have enough energy and strength to tear away and go dash into the woods never to be seen again. GOD.
Wow though can't believe Mandricardo really did torture both parties. He freezes up a little, tension winding through his exhausted body like a coil at the mention of that. It's a little easier like this, at least. Not having to look him directly in the face.]
Don't apologize. [Immediately, and also confirming that He Was Indeed There.] I-- Sieghart-dono said that it wasn't real. And it isn't something... to apologize for. We all have people we wish to protect.
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[It's an odd feeling, knowing that for these people, he was some kind of horrible illusion, used to traumatize and destroy. His own body tenses at the thought- so was he a villain, perhaps? Just like before...?]
...If you had to hurt or kill that other me...its okay. You had to do what you had to do. Especially...if I was going to cause ya harm.
[He adjusts his grip slightly, turning his face to rest in the crook of the other's neck.]
I want to protect you, though. Even if its from a villain like me.
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...I didn't. [Hurt or kill him.] The situation was set up in a way that encouraged us to do so, but the second time we tried, we were able to do what we needed to without directly harming you three.
[Though he realizes that this will just sound more confusing out of context, and honestly - hilariously - the actual events aren't most of what he takes the biggest issue with. So, after a sigh:]
We were brought to another world and made to complete an objective. Steal an airship, get to the ruins. Any time we died in our attempts to do so, we were brought back to a moment slightly before our deaths. At the ruins, you and two of the others were there - holding hostages. People from our own worlds, I presume... I believe your objective was to kill them to protect your own loved ones.
[He says all of this very clinically, like he's reciting something he read somewhere else.
Can you believe a lad's self-hatred is so intense that he made it sound like he was the one who killed Mandricardo, absolutely hilarious.]
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[shakes sakyou]
[But...hostages? And dying, returning to moments before death...from what little he knows of it, it does sound like a video game. Multiple lives to try, and try again.]
...I see. Thanks for tellin' me. That sounds...terrible. Funny thing, really...all my loved ones are here. Home isn't a thing for me, anymore.
[But he knows that isn't the point. The point is that even not hurting that other him still shook him up, somehow, made him go deep into this whole "you can't be with me" spiral. He turns his head, giving the other a level look, and gives another stroke over his head.]
...So you guys found a way around it. That's good. But...were you thinking you'd do something similar as that other me? Do somethin' so drastic as taking hostages to save others?
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It sure was a ride, though! Sure was!! He purses his lips a little at the remark about his home; further affirmation that the people there really were likely fake, at least. He doesn't want to ruminate on it too deeply.
But Sakyou finally shifts to meet that level look. Compared to the fury, there's just - a strange combination of exhaustion and iciness. That had been part of the problem, without a doubt, albeit just one part.]
To save others, I would kill without hesitation if there was no other way. I would dirty my hands in any way necessary.
[That's what he does. He protects fiercely in the bloodiest of ways. The only reason he hadn't killed is because they'd failed once and found an immediate solution the second time, but he had been ready.]
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[Beneaty the elegance, the grace, the smooth exterior lies a tempest, it seems. Like the gentle surface of the ocean, with a whirlpool ready to tug anything in.]
[But there's no judgement from him on that. He just lets out a little sigh, closing his eyes momentarily. Even with his own exhaustion, he knows how much Sakyou must be feeling on his own.]
...After my father was killed...I took out my rage on others. I was bloodthirsty, ready to fight whatever I saw. It was only when I was told who did the deed that I became focused. But even then, that feeling never went away.
[A persisting wrath, ready to burn and destroy where it could.]
Even now...I don't think I would be someone to shy away from that. Better me who kills than leave that to someone else. My hands are already dirty, so...might as well. So...I get it. I do.
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Maybe it is similar, then. Maybe a little more similar than he'd thought.
It's an ugliness that Sakyou does his best to keep hidden, unless he's actively trying to push people away; in that case, he puts as much of it on display as he can bear to. Like a celestial body, the intensity of his hatred and fury burn white-hot at his core, largely hidden by his polite and mild demeanor. But one crack is all it takes, right? One crack and the hideous insides are exposed, bubbling to the surface and rocking the shell of his carefully curated presentation to bits.
It's similar, but it's still not the same. He's too exhausted to try hammering that point home, though. The longer he goes without moving, the more his body aches. He closes his eyes; breathing in and out, the expansion of his ribs sends thrums of pain up his spine and fanning across his sides.]
...It never does go away, does it? [He doesn't anticipate that happening so easily even if-- when-- he succeeds. How unfortunate. How sad.]
When one walks down such a path, there's no place to rest. There is no turning back. Once your hands are stained, all you can do is keep them to yourself, so no one else gets caught in the mess you leave behind.
[...Maybe it's a little comforting to know he's not the only one, in a cruel and twisted way.]
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