you never asked what i was going through. you didn't want to know. e.eisho.
there’s a distance between them, too far to reach across. a stretch of cold, stale air. a mockery of unity. on the opposite side of the dawn-bathed office, eiji lingers purposelessly. something despicable in him flits its gaze to the door. it is a momentary impulse. all of his belongings fit into his pockets. he hates to leave traces of himself, that doesn’t stop it from happening, however. shotaro bears all the wounds of his presence, raw and inflamed before him. it’s in the glistening of his eyes, the set of his jaw, the rumble of his voice.
the bitterness of it strikes through him, and he is nothing if not deserving. he accepts it with tenderly outstretched arms, pulls it deep into himself in a thorny and bloodied embrace.
“ … you’re right. ” he says, with an accompanying nod. it’s spoken with terrible gentleness. numbingly soft. a feather light, fuzzed razor’s edge. even so, it is cruel. he knows he’s been cruel. eiji smiles, faraway like always, unwhole, hiding the sorrow burning just beneath his teeth. you’re right. i didn’t want to know. i wanted to continue this façade of “helping” each other forever. there’s an itch to soothe him, apologies crowding his throat, but they dissolve quietly. it would be meaningless. empty platitudes. another act of mindless, depthless cruelty.
“ you’re right, ” he repeats, meeting him head on with eyes like clouded water. murky and bottomless. “ i didn’t. ”
an even crueler impulse comes, and he shamelessly acts, stepping carefully across the room, raising his hands to cradle shotaro’s cheeks with a hesitance that is more for show than anything else. the morning light from the window streaming across his face is now obscured, consumed in eiji’s shadow. dim under his fingers, under his muted expression. an ever-patient smile. “ can you forgive me? ” hushed, like a secret between the two of them, as if something would shatter if it were any louder. perhaps it already had, and they were merely tiptoeing around the surrounding splintered pieces of it.
“ can you let me help you again? ” it’s that phrase that’s become a painful brand. a deadly weapon eiji lovingly points to his chest. over and over again with sweetly delivered brutality. continuously swallowing him whole. despite it all, his hold is loose. fleeting, as if ready to pull away at any moment. to disappear and leave a gap in his place. it's all lukewarm, barely there reassurance. this is all he is capable of. all he can give with hollow hands. " ... will you? "