-` HAKU ! ÂŽ- â± Â icecurseâ  ·Â
@healpalmâ // RIN.
â Do you ever â   â
lips part in question â only to falter and fall shut once more, hesitation obscured by a soft, mournful sigh. such disquiet is uncharacteristic of him ; though prone to privacy, haku has never been a nervous or trepidatious child. to see him standing before rinâs kitchen window, brows furrowed as unreadable brown eyes scan the faces of civillians mulling in the streets below, fingers rotating the dog-tag necklace usually hidden beneath his clothing with increasing agitation, is ⊠strange, to say the least.
fingers fist over the windowsill, fingernails pressing crescents into the old wood. the words lingering on his tongue are bitter and bleak, rolling in his mouth like marbles, staining him from the inside out as he struggles to contain the blackness. a week of bearing such feelings on his own, with no one to take them to. he has not wanted to be ungrateful for the gift given him, nor disrespectful to those who had lost so many in combat, least of all the warm, soul-soothing presence that is RIN, but. but he just two months past his fifteenth birthday, he is so young for all the terror and hardship he has seen and wrought, he has known so much lost already. and it is selfish of him, perhaps, but just this once he wants someone else to feel it with him. to feel the weight of the pain carried upon such thin shoulders.
â Do you ever wonder what would be different if they had lived and you had died ?  â hakuâs voice is firm and clear, despite the faint tremors of sorrow and rage coiling in its depths. there is no need to define the subject. he knows by her eyes that the young woman knows loss as well as he. he knows she has heard stories of the devil of the mist and the angel of death hovering in his wake. â What could have been, if only you hadnât been you. If only you had been faster, stronger. Better.  â he does not dare look at her, for fear of what he should see â or, worse, what she would see: the black irascible fury pacing in him like a caged animal, its pained howls and brutal self-loathing. haku has never wanted for pity, least of all from those he admires.Â
I didnât raise a coward, a dark voice growls in his head. Always look your enemy in the eyes.
slowly does he shift, staring across the kitchen at his host with dry, hollow eyes, lips parting to say the words he has thought for so long now:
â It should have been me.  â
  đđđđđđđ  đđđđđđđđ     stems  not  from  indifference  but  the  debilitating  ache  of  her  heart  which  his  words  had  caused.   the  ceramic  plate  she  had  been  drying  as  she  listened  to  him  threatened  to  slip  past  her  weakened  grip   ,   fingers  clenching  tight  around  its  smooth  edges  to  save  it  from  shattering.  yet  there  was  nothing  she  could  do  to  save  her  composure  from  sharing  the  same  fate.   calm  disposition  falters  despite  all  intentions  to  gather  her  strength  for  his  sake    ;    an  obstinate  tear  streaks  down  her  left  eye   ,   traveling  over  the  peak  of  a  marked  cheek  to  reach  the  end  of  its  trek  as  it  rolls  off  her  chin.  Â
she  had  been  younger  than  he  when  the  same  sentiments  had  plagued  her  grieving  mind.    regrets  of  not  being  stronger   ,   not  knowing  better   âââ  a  myriad  of  what-ifs  that  still  haunted  her  in  adulthood   ,   but  had  been  magnified  in  the  wake  of  an  introduction  to  the  ruthlessness  of  war  and  her  loss  of  innocence.    his  words  were  needles  pressed  deep  into  an  unhealed  scar  that  still  bled  at  the  slightest  provocation   ,   guilt  rising  in  the  form  of  vile  burning  at  the  base  of  her  throat.    with  great  difficulty  ,   she  swallows   ;   an  unsteady hand  lifting  to  wipe  at  her  wet  cheek  as  the  other  gently  sets  aside  the  plate.    with  all  the  grace  of  billowing  summer  wind   ,   she  strides  towards  him and  wraps  her  arms  around  him.   Â
warm  embrace  finds  Haku  cradled  against  the  ruffles  of  her  long  dress   ,    fingertips  dipping  into  his  hair  and  drawing  soothing  concentric  circles  over  his  scalp.          none of  that.   Êč    she  hushes  him   ,   breaking  their  embrace  to  look  down  at  him  with  a  gentle  severity   ;   the  trademark  of  a  caring  mother.    she  pries  his  fingers  away  from  their  restless  tugging  at  his  necklace  and  holds  his  hand  steady  in  hers.       â”   thinking  like  that  makes  nothing  better  . . .   i  would  know.   Êč     hushed  voice  drops  a  tone  in  melancholic  reverie.   the  weariness  she  so  expertly  suppressed  creeps  into  her  youthful  face   ,   deepening  the  shadows  beneath  her  eyes.      â”   surviving  is  the  heaviest  burden   ,   i  know   ,   but  things  happened  as  they  did  for  a  reason.   you  have  a  purpose  yet  to  fulfill  ,  Haku.    Êč    Â














