[His expression sets in a hard sort of expression. The duty it takes, the strength it takes...its immense. For Sakyou to keep standing, unwilling to give up...]
[It's admirable, in its own way.]
I hope you succeed. I...really hope that.
[Is what he says, before a memory comes to the surface...]
[And it shows very pointedly that Mandricardo never did succeed with his own tribulations.]
[He also hopes he succeeds, damn! But before he can even verbalize his thanks, he's blasted into a different life, a different time. It's so easy to get swept up in memories like this when they come cascading down - some more than others, because of the similarities he shares.
Though Sakyou's never been overtly arrogant, there are other things that strike a cord. The swiftness of fury. Facing a battle with the surety that you will deliver the opponent to death. But there's more here - the betrayal, the shock, all unfamiliar things. To experience dying moments in any form... it's terrible, and between one moment and the next, he's on his knees and blinking, unsure of when his body dropped.
One hand moves to his side, where the phantom injury would be, and he's quiet for several seconds. To die like that, at such a time, in such a place, with so many things left to do...]
[He's quiet for a long moment. This isn't even the first time he's had to relive this, this week. Sometimes, you just have to have the moment of your death in your head on a constant basis, and there's nothing you can do about it.]
Sakyou's had his own ideas of what his death would look like. He's pretty sure almost everyone who embarks on a quest for revenge does, to some degree. The idea of being taken out in such a way before ever attaining the truest victory, the one goal that matters...
It's no wonder Mandricardo had returned in such a state.]
I apologize for intruding. [It's not his fault, but he'll apologize nonetheless.] ...It doesn't seem like something you're unused to, though...
[This place is rude as hell and so are their own memories.]
[He brushes back some of his hair, frowning. It isn't like Sakyou intentionally wanted to see something like that. Its just...this place. This horrible place, that drags out the past into the sun.]
Well, I've seen that countless times already. I guess its just this school's way of gettin' under my skin.
[He doesn't need to say it. They all know it. But he'll say it anyway, because it is cruel. It's a terrible thing.
After a brief beat, he reaches out, gently touching Mandricardo's wrist. It's just a momentary point of contact, but he's trying to offer reassurance.
There's a beat, then, as he considers what he wants to say next. The question he poses isn't a pressing one, leaving plenty of space for Mandricardo to refuse to answer if he wanted.]
...Do you know what became of the one who killed your father?
[His fingers curl at the soft contact. He's not used to it. This level of understanding, these words of comfort, just knowing, somehow, that there are people here who would look out for him, no matter what...]
[He never had anything like that.]
[The question makes his eyebrows furrow, but his expression doesn't change all that much. His tone, however, is bitter.]
He's the hero of the story. Of course, he got his glory. In the end, that's how it is. History chooses who it wants, and lifts them up for the world to love.
[Wow, that's garbage! Life is terrible and unfair no matter who you are or what world you come from, apparently. Sakyou's quiet for another long moment or two after that, and even through the composed neutrality of his expression, it's clear that he finds it a disagreeable thing.
But history is history. It's already done, it's already set in stone. What can one do about it?]
I wish that it wasn't like this.
[That there are winners and losers in every tale. That the hand of fate seems to pick which is which without rhyme or reason.]
Even if you know that nothing can be done for it, that often makes one feel even worse.
Ha. Why do you think I am the way I am? It's all very gloomy, just thinkin' about every little thing that went wrong. But...I'm not here for me, really. I want to be the best version of myself I can be, when I get past my own feelings, but...
[He looks down, before his eyes glance up to meet the other's face. Sakyou has determination. Strength. And he succeeded in one part, at least, in that memory, though it was one of many demons.]
[His own hand reaches out to touch the back of Sakyou's hand.]
I...want the people around me to get what they need. And I want you to succeed. My time is gone. You still have everything ahead of you.
[He also hopes Mandricardo can be the best version of himself that he can be! Even if his time is gone, the time he had as his original self, he's got something of a second life through... whatever the hell it is that landed him in his current position. It's a precious thing - a way to confront all those demons that an abrupt death would leave behind. A difficult thing. Something that will take time and care. But something that's possible all the same.
...
His gaze drops briefly to the blade at his side.]
...Your heart is kind, you know. [Regardless of the anger and bloodthirst and arrogance, and the way that Mandricardo talks about himself. Beneath it, there's undoubtedly a kindness, even if it may have been twisted in the past by hate and fury.]
[He doesn't know if he's kind. Kindness feels...intentional. And for sure, he wants to do some good. But deep down, he feels what he shows is merely selfish. Its a way to make others like him, or at least tolerate him. To prove that he's useful, somehow. Is that really kindness?]
[Maybe, maybe not.]
[But this wish for others to do well...for Sakyou to stand forward, and take the life of the demon who took so much from him...that's a sincere wish. That's not selfish. It isn't as if Sakyou's deeds have any bearing on him, as a Servant.]
[He just wants it for Sakyou, because Sakyou is his friend.]
Good.
[And a beat.]
What will...you do afterward, when everything is over?
[It's a question he never really asked himself, when he was alive.]
If people keep saying so, don't you think there's some truth to it?
[But he says it a little lightly, because he also knows what it's like to hear something over and over and still feel like it isn't true. It's the same for him, in many respects and for many things.
It's funny, isn't it? How vastly different the way one views themselves can differ from the way others view them. Sometimes a highly inflated opinion and sense of self is met with the disgust of others. Sometimes self-hatred is met with understanding and support. People are strange, in many strange ways.
The question gives him pause, but he's been open with the answer.]
I faced off against that demon once before. As I said, I failed and barely escaped alive. [...] I have made no plans for a life beyond the point that I avenge my family.
[It's not a matter of whether or not he's asked himself the question. It's simply that he's never seen his life progressing past that point, and doesn't particularly have a desire for it to.]
[It is hard to yell back. He knows the feeling well, so he doesn't try to respond to Mandricardo's doubts and concerns with pretty words. Instead, simply:]
I've heard it takes time.
[From people who are more healed than he is. That's about all he's equipped to offer, honestly.
As for the question - he returns the look, even-keeled, though nothing in his expression seems to point in any particular direction.]
I don't believe my chances of survival are high. From the start, that hasn't been a concern of mine.
[What a sad duo they make. Short lives, troubles they seemingly can't get past... One does need time above all else when it comes to healing, though. Time and support. At the very least...]
...I hope you'll have others to stand with you when you return, then.
[Even if he doesn't have time, even if he can't work through it all. It's something he knows is crucial, and something he's intentionally kept himself far away from. Setting down roots means it's even more painful when you have to cut them.]
This is what I've lived for - the only thing. I've kept it that way for my own good, and the good of those around me.
That's the point, Sakyou. There's no returning. If I go...and I'm summoned again...I'll have no memories of this. Of anything. Of...you.
[Which is why this time, how little it is, is so valuable. He can't let a moment of it get away from him. And why it pains him to hear what Sakyou says. That...at the end of everything, he's to let himself be swept up in it all, like a leaf in the wind.]
[The more he thinks about it, the more emotion wells up, and his lower lip trembles, as he finds words to speak:]
I understand you but...but it...I-I don't like to think about you dying, Sakyou.
[Oh. WELL. That's terrible! Wow. It really is a very small window of time then, isn't it? What a horrible thing... Memories are precious to him - they're one of the only things he has. The idea of losing them, of starting over again, is upsetting. He's upset on Mandricardo's behalf - not over the fact that he himself won't be remembered, but over the fact that Mandricardo won't be able to keep hold of what he's gone through, the people he's met, the changes he's faced.]
...And this is simply the way that things are?
[Terrible. Things are so unfair sometimes, aren't they? So unkind.
There's a flash of something in his expression as he watches Mandricardo's face, but it's hard to pin down. Quietly:] This is why I don't want anyone to stay near me.
...Yes. That's the nature of Servants. Get a second chance at life, but...in the end, we're just tools, y'know.
[Made to be used, and used again. Not that Mandricardo minds. Its better to be useful than some sad heap of a being that has little purpose, even as some reincarnated form of a historical figure long dead.]
[He meets the other's eyes - there's a seriousness in them that's almost burning, like a minuscule flame still going in the midst of ashes.]
..."Is it better to have loved and lost, than to ever have loved at all?" I...read that in a book in the library.
[He frowns, deeply.]
I know you, Sakyou. I know how determined you are, but...in the end, even if you try your hardest not to, you will leave an impact on others. For better or for worse. So...I'd rather it be a big impact. I'd rather be hurt deeply, than consider you as nothing more than a stranger. It...doesn't feel right.
...I wish that it didn't have to be that way for you.
[It seems cruel, honestly. A half-life, a shadow of a true second chance. Something that's almost there, but not quite. Maybe some would be satisfied with that, but it's a painful thing to think about, from the perspective of an outsider looking in on a person he's come to care for.
Living as a shadow is a painful thing.
Listening to words like this are just as painful. He can't help it; his stare drops away again, back toward the blade, which seems to be an anchor whenever he can't bear the weight of what's in front of him. It's better to have never loved at all, isn't it?]
...Lucretia-dono asked me how I wanted to be remembered, once. [...] But I don't. I don't wish to be remembered. I would have liked to have passed through the world without touching another life, and left nothing behind when I reached the end of my own. ...I would rather that still be possible, even here.
[People are too stubborn, though. They cling too hard. They refuse to let him go, and he gets more and more frightened with each week that passes that he really won't be able to do anything about it.]
[In a way....he feels that. He's a third-rate, after all. Literally obscure. A piss-poor example of a Servant to the point where his existence, right now, feels like the universe's biggest joke.]
[He pauses...before reaching for the other's hand. As if to ground himself, to keep him from flitting away into the clouds of his own despair.]
[His voice is quiet.]
If I told you the same, about me...how would you feel? If I erased everything, our friendship, because I didn't want to harm you, didn't think you deserved a pathetic person like me...how would you feel?
[He wouldn't just let it happen, because he's a selfish and hypocritical thing. Mandricardo reached for his hand first, but he's the one who returns the grasp this time, and it's a punishing one.]
It's not the same.
[He always sounds so adamant when he speaks like this, like he's talking in absolutes. But there's a little waver, behind his usual spark of anger this time.
He understands what Mandricardo is saying, after all. If their positions were reversed, he wouldn't let the hand in his go.]
...Is there nothing I can do that would change your thinking?
[He winces at the grasp, but the look he gives Sakyou doesn't waver, holding steady, like a flame.]
Maybe it isn't. Maybe...I'm just a ghost, and you're a human being, and maybe...maybe I can't really die in the same way you can, but...
[The feelings...have to be the same, right?]
I should...ask you the same. [His grip is strong - he isn't planning on letting go.] What will it take, Sakyou? Do you see me so cruel as to disregard what you're sayin'?
That isn't why it's not the same. [HE'D SHAKE THIS MAN IF HE COULD but he's too busy trying to crush the bones of his hand apparently--
No okay, it's not that hard. Sakyou actually has freakish arm strength and is taking care not to be too brutal, even if it probably hurts.]
I'm the worst kind of person. I don't leave things better - without fail, I always leave them worse. The one good I'll do is taking that demon out on my way to the river. At the very least, I want to protect you and those I care for from suffering, but you won't listen and you won't believe me no matter what I say or what you see.
[How far down into his disgusting core does he have to dig before they're satisfied? It's painful.]
How... [He seems to struggle with his words, even as Sakyou's grip is this tight.] How many times do...do I need to make it clear that you made my life better?
[And now he's crying, but he's crying bitter, bitter tears. Sour, like his feelings, of having to try to even persuade Sakyou, just a little, about what his worth really is.]
I don't think I've...ever had a relationship before like I have with you. I...never had friends. I was a stupid, stupid, arrogant king, who got along with no one. And now here I am, and you...you agreed, and you...it was...i-it was the happiest I've ever been.
[He grits his teeth, pained.]
If anything, I should be the one protectin' you from me. Every day, I worry that I'm the one dragging you down with this wretched soul of mine. You're like...like the sun to me. Things are better because you're here, not because you're not.
[Even after everything, even after seeing Sakyou standing, bloodied, like that, he...]
Even right now, this date, I'm...I'm happy. I wouldn't trade it for the world.
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[His expression sets in a hard sort of expression. The duty it takes, the strength it takes...its immense. For Sakyou to keep standing, unwilling to give up...]
[It's admirable, in its own way.]
I hope you succeed. I...really hope that.
[Is what he says, before a memory comes to the surface...]
[And it shows very pointedly that Mandricardo never did succeed with his own tribulations.]
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Though Sakyou's never been overtly arrogant, there are other things that strike a cord. The swiftness of fury. Facing a battle with the surety that you will deliver the opponent to death. But there's more here - the betrayal, the shock, all unfamiliar things. To experience dying moments in any form... it's terrible, and between one moment and the next, he's on his knees and blinking, unsure of when his body dropped.
One hand moves to his side, where the phantom injury would be, and he's quiet for several seconds. To die like that, at such a time, in such a place, with so many things left to do...]
...This is - your last memory? From before...
[From before he came back as a depressed twink.]
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[He's quiet for a long moment. This isn't even the first time he's had to relive this, this week. Sometimes, you just have to have the moment of your death in your head on a constant basis, and there's nothing you can do about it.]
[Finally, he just nods.]
Yeah. Before I died.
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Sakyou's had his own ideas of what his death would look like. He's pretty sure almost everyone who embarks on a quest for revenge does, to some degree. The idea of being taken out in such a way before ever attaining the truest victory, the one goal that matters...
It's no wonder Mandricardo had returned in such a state.]
I apologize for intruding. [It's not his fault, but he'll apologize nonetheless.] ...It doesn't seem like something you're unused to, though...
[This place is rude as hell and so are their own memories.]
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[He brushes back some of his hair, frowning. It isn't like Sakyou intentionally wanted to see something like that. Its just...this place. This horrible place, that drags out the past into the sun.]
Well, I've seen that countless times already. I guess its just this school's way of gettin' under my skin.
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[He doesn't need to say it. They all know it. But he'll say it anyway, because it is cruel. It's a terrible thing.
After a brief beat, he reaches out, gently touching Mandricardo's wrist. It's just a momentary point of contact, but he's trying to offer reassurance.
There's a beat, then, as he considers what he wants to say next. The question he poses isn't a pressing one, leaving plenty of space for Mandricardo to refuse to answer if he wanted.]
...Do you know what became of the one who killed your father?
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[His fingers curl at the soft contact. He's not used to it. This level of understanding, these words of comfort, just knowing, somehow, that there are people here who would look out for him, no matter what...]
[He never had anything like that.]
[The question makes his eyebrows furrow, but his expression doesn't change all that much. His tone, however, is bitter.]
He's the hero of the story. Of course, he got his glory. In the end, that's how it is. History chooses who it wants, and lifts them up for the world to love.
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But history is history. It's already done, it's already set in stone. What can one do about it?]
I wish that it wasn't like this.
[That there are winners and losers in every tale. That the hand of fate seems to pick which is which without rhyme or reason.]
Even if you know that nothing can be done for it, that often makes one feel even worse.
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[He looks down, before his eyes glance up to meet the other's face. Sakyou has determination. Strength. And he succeeded in one part, at least, in that memory, though it was one of many demons.]
[His own hand reaches out to touch the back of Sakyou's hand.]
I...want the people around me to get what they need. And I want you to succeed. My time is gone. You still have everything ahead of you.
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...
His gaze drops briefly to the blade at his side.]
...Your heart is kind, you know. [Regardless of the anger and bloodthirst and arrogance, and the way that Mandricardo talks about himself. Beneath it, there's undoubtedly a kindness, even if it may have been twisted in the past by hate and fury.]
Thank you. I will succeed.
[And then, he'll be done.]
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[He doesn't know if he's kind. Kindness feels...intentional. And for sure, he wants to do some good. But deep down, he feels what he shows is merely selfish. Its a way to make others like him, or at least tolerate him. To prove that he's useful, somehow. Is that really kindness?]
[Maybe, maybe not.]
[But this wish for others to do well...for Sakyou to stand forward, and take the life of the demon who took so much from him...that's a sincere wish. That's not selfish. It isn't as if Sakyou's deeds have any bearing on him, as a Servant.]
[He just wants it for Sakyou, because Sakyou is his friend.]
Good.
[And a beat.]
What will...you do afterward, when everything is over?
[It's a question he never really asked himself, when he was alive.]
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[But he says it a little lightly, because he also knows what it's like to hear something over and over and still feel like it isn't true. It's the same for him, in many respects and for many things.
It's funny, isn't it? How vastly different the way one views themselves can differ from the way others view them. Sometimes a highly inflated opinion and sense of self is met with the disgust of others. Sometimes self-hatred is met with understanding and support. People are strange, in many strange ways.
The question gives him pause, but he's been open with the answer.]
I faced off against that demon once before. As I said, I failed and barely escaped alive. [...] I have made no plans for a life beyond the point that I avenge my family.
[It's not a matter of whether or not he's asked himself the question. It's simply that he's never seen his life progressing past that point, and doesn't particularly have a desire for it to.]
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[Its so hard to believe, because the voice of self-doubt is strong, so strong. It screams like a trumpet in his ears, even when alone.]
[Its hard to yell back.]
[Sakyou's answer makes him pause. But what comes is a chill down his spine, and a furrow of his eyebrows as he stares Sakyoi dead on.]
Sakyou...do you plan to die?
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I've heard it takes time.
[From people who are more healed than he is. That's about all he's equipped to offer, honestly.
As for the question - he returns the look, even-keeled, though nothing in his expression seems to point in any particular direction.]
I don't believe my chances of survival are high. From the start, that hasn't been a concern of mine.
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[Because Servants are ephemeral things. They're not humans. This may be a chance at a second life, but its not a long second life.]
[He closes his eyes, momentarily, at the other's answers. Ah. Right. It's what he feared.]
...You don't have...anything else to live for?
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...I hope you'll have others to stand with you when you return, then.
[Even if he doesn't have time, even if he can't work through it all. It's something he knows is crucial, and something he's intentionally kept himself far away from. Setting down roots means it's even more painful when you have to cut them.]
This is what I've lived for - the only thing. I've kept it that way for my own good, and the good of those around me.
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That's the point, Sakyou. There's no returning. If I go...and I'm summoned again...I'll have no memories of this. Of anything. Of...you.
[Which is why this time, how little it is, is so valuable. He can't let a moment of it get away from him. And why it pains him to hear what Sakyou says. That...at the end of everything, he's to let himself be swept up in it all, like a leaf in the wind.]
[The more he thinks about it, the more emotion wells up, and his lower lip trembles, as he finds words to speak:]
I understand you but...but it...I-I don't like to think about you dying, Sakyou.
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...And this is simply the way that things are?
[Terrible. Things are so unfair sometimes, aren't they? So unkind.
There's a flash of something in his expression as he watches Mandricardo's face, but it's hard to pin down. Quietly:] This is why I don't want anyone to stay near me.
[Inevitably, he just ends up hurting them.]
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[Made to be used, and used again. Not that Mandricardo minds. Its better to be useful than some sad heap of a being that has little purpose, even as some reincarnated form of a historical figure long dead.]
[He meets the other's eyes - there's a seriousness in them that's almost burning, like a minuscule flame still going in the midst of ashes.]
..."Is it better to have loved and lost, than to ever have loved at all?" I...read that in a book in the library.
[He frowns, deeply.]
I know you, Sakyou. I know how determined you are, but...in the end, even if you try your hardest not to, you will leave an impact on others. For better or for worse. So...I'd rather it be a big impact. I'd rather be hurt deeply, than consider you as nothing more than a stranger. It...doesn't feel right.
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[It seems cruel, honestly. A half-life, a shadow of a true second chance. Something that's almost there, but not quite. Maybe some would be satisfied with that, but it's a painful thing to think about, from the perspective of an outsider looking in on a person he's come to care for.
Living as a shadow is a painful thing.
Listening to words like this are just as painful. He can't help it; his stare drops away again, back toward the blade, which seems to be an anchor whenever he can't bear the weight of what's in front of him. It's better to have never loved at all, isn't it?]
...Lucretia-dono asked me how I wanted to be remembered, once. [...] But I don't. I don't wish to be remembered. I would have liked to have passed through the world without touching another life, and left nothing behind when I reached the end of my own. ...I would rather that still be possible, even here.
[People are too stubborn, though. They cling too hard. They refuse to let him go, and he gets more and more frightened with each week that passes that he really won't be able to do anything about it.]
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[In a way....he feels that. He's a third-rate, after all. Literally obscure. A piss-poor example of a Servant to the point where his existence, right now, feels like the universe's biggest joke.]
[He pauses...before reaching for the other's hand. As if to ground himself, to keep him from flitting away into the clouds of his own despair.]
[His voice is quiet.]
If I told you the same, about me...how would you feel? If I erased everything, our friendship, because I didn't want to harm you, didn't think you deserved a pathetic person like me...how would you feel?
[Would he...just let it happen?]
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It's not the same.
[He always sounds so adamant when he speaks like this, like he's talking in absolutes. But there's a little waver, behind his usual spark of anger this time.
He understands what Mandricardo is saying, after all. If their positions were reversed, he wouldn't let the hand in his go.]
...Is there nothing I can do that would change your thinking?
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Maybe it isn't. Maybe...I'm just a ghost, and you're a human being, and maybe...maybe I can't really die in the same way you can, but...
[The feelings...have to be the same, right?]
I should...ask you the same. [His grip is strong - he isn't planning on letting go.] What will it take, Sakyou? Do you see me so cruel as to disregard what you're sayin'?
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No okay, it's not that hard. Sakyou actually has freakish arm strength and is taking care not to be too brutal, even if it probably hurts.]
I'm the worst kind of person. I don't leave things better - without fail, I always leave them worse. The one good I'll do is taking that demon out on my way to the river. At the very least, I want to protect you and those I care for from suffering, but you won't listen and you won't believe me no matter what I say or what you see.
[How far down into his disgusting core does he have to dig before they're satisfied? It's painful.]
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[And now he's crying, but he's crying bitter, bitter tears. Sour, like his feelings, of having to try to even persuade Sakyou, just a little, about what his worth really is.]
I don't think I've...ever had a relationship before like I have with you. I...never had friends. I was a stupid, stupid, arrogant king, who got along with no one. And now here I am, and you...you agreed, and you...it was...i-it was the happiest I've ever been.
[He grits his teeth, pained.]
If anything, I should be the one protectin' you from me. Every day, I worry that I'm the one dragging you down with this wretched soul of mine. You're like...like the sun to me. Things are better because you're here, not because you're not.
[Even after everything, even after seeing Sakyou standing, bloodied, like that, he...]
Even right now, this date, I'm...I'm happy. I wouldn't trade it for the world.
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