@sunforms assured: [[ For Senjuro! ]] As a younger brother himself, Yoriichi knows what it was like to try and live up to your older brother's expectations. He kneels to be eye level to Senjuro and, upon opening his arms, wraps them around the Rengoku in a comforting embrace. β I know what it's like, being a younger brother myself, β Hang on, Senjuro, β and trying to live up to the expectations of another. β Yoriichi lingers before withdrawing his arms.
β Do not push yourself, alright? β
"Waste of space."
it was mumbled only once in a haze of sour sake and regret, but senjuro could not escape the words accosting his senses as his father drunkenly pushed past him. a waste of space. something with no purpose other than being bothersome. a burden.
βHe doesn't mean it,β kyojuro would say. but senjuro has knelt beside closed shoji doors with his ear pressed to canvas as their father verbally ripped into kyojuro. "Who do you think you are. You're nothing to me or to anyone.β senjuro had pressed his thumbnail into the wooden frame to push the shoji doors open a sliver and pressed his eye to the gap, possessed by an inexplicable need to see their faces.
what he saw had been terrible.
shinjuro's face thundered and storm, his words cracking the air with explosive, electric accuracy. kyojuro's smile never wavered in the wake of the storm, but senjuro saw the unflagging sunshine in his brother's eyes dim to dusk. shinjuro meant what he said, and kyojuro knew it. believed it. and if he someone as great as kyojuro could believe words so foul, why wouldn't senjuro?
"Waste of space."
senjuro agrees. the only person who doesn't is kyojuro, and that, that is why senjuro strives so hard to live up to his brother's expectations. it's his one chance to be believed in. he can't bear to fail and prove kyojuro wrong and their father right.
"BELIEVE IN YOURSELF!" kyojuro liked to say when senjuro shrinks into the dark hole inside himself. "I BELIEVE IN YOU, FOR I AM NOT A FOOL!" kyojuro thinks it's encouraging, but it isn't; senjuro just doesn't have the heart to tell him that he is nothing to believe in.
all he can do is believe in what kyojuro thinks of him, and hope that is enough.
and so senjuro works day and night, striving to meet his brother's expectations. he runs the rengoku estate, pays off his father's debts, manages the grounds and the staff, and takes care of everyone. he's happy to carry the burden. ( when he isn't, yes he is. ) senjuro is not strong in a fight, but he is persistent; give him long enough and there is no task he cannot handle, no pain he cannot shoulder.
but sometimes he missteps. stumbles. then the weight comes crumbling down around him as he struggles to stay upright. today is one of those days. kyojuro still hasn't woken up from his coma after surviving the mugen train, and last night there were complications. hours after senjuro fell into restless post-chores sleep, kyojuro began spluttering bile and vomit and something too curdled and dark to be blood, and senjuro had bolted upright from his sleeping roll to laboriously roll kyojuro onto his side before he choked. he'd screamed for help, but sake binges mean shinjuro sleeps like the dead. it had been just him, wide-eyed and trembling, cradling kyojuro's head in his lap as he rocked his brother's limp body well into the morning light.
in the morning, shinjuro had glowered at senjuro's blood-shot eyes through a crack in the shoji doors, his prickly upper lip curling. "It stinks. Clean this up and finish your chores."
senjuro tried. the room was cleaned and kyojuro made comfortable all while a choking darkness crept toward his throat. by the time he shuts the shoji doors and stumbles off the estate, he is a pale, high-strung, exhausted mess. i can't do this anymore. i can't. i can't.
yoriichi finds him like this. his susurrus voice barely reaches senjuro in his addled daze, but his head is already shaking no, no. his fist instinctively curls into yoriichi's garments, his body's last ditch attempt to anchor a boy dangerously adrift.
β Β Β I have to, β he tries to steel his shaking voice. he does not want to be strong. he must be. β Β Β It's just me. Father, Aniue . . . I'm the only one who can, I'm β Β β
strong arms wrap around him, and a final whisper meets his ear: "Do not push yourself, alright?"
the smallest stream can split mountains with enough persistence. senjuro has been strong for so, so long, but this time, this time β
senjuro breaks.
β Β Β I c-c-can't, Β β senjuro chokes out with a gasp, burrowing his head against yoriichi's chest. as powerfully as dams break, the truth floods out. β Β Β I have to, but I can't. I'm not strong enough. I can't do this anymore. I'm tired. I'm so tired. Β β
he's sorry, aniue. it seems he's made a fool of you after all.
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The most pleasant surprise Elijah licked his lips and stared at Alaric's bare body on his bed. He slid his hands into his pockets and strolled in as casual as possible. He slid one hand out of his pocket and brushed his fingers over Alaric's toes, then up his leg as he walked up the side of the bed, he brushed, ghosted his fingers over Ric's hip then pushed his palm down onto his chest. He crawled up onto the bed, fully dressed, and straddled him. He leaned down, his lips barely coming into contact with Alaric's, he exhaled slowly, drawing his hand up over his chest until he was holding his chin.
He kept eye contact with him then slid his tongue out and barely touched it to his lips. He was teasing him, and having far too much fun doing it. "You certainly know how to get your message across." He whispered, then he pressed his mouth soundly down against Alaric's.
