Private i want to go to hell together

[Komorebi Rin]

She wasn't one to fret over people - not unless there was some sort of social currency involved in the appearance of concern - but her favored mutt seemed all but outwardly agitated as they rounded closer to his branch home. She was sure he'd try to shoo her off, if he hadn't already, but she, like most toxins, was difficult to rid yourself of. He didn't have the effort - nor intent - needed to fully ward her off, so she stuck around like a thorn in the paw of a lion. It brought her infinite wonder to see how much she could needle him between the acts of their play, just far enough to almost barely threaten their fun so the threat, in and of itself, became as exciting; without ever shattering their intermission. She was always just slightly off script, if not in words than action. Nanaka Chikamatsu was simply subtitled wrong.

Her closed caption tonight read: Are you okay, my lord?,
but the slink of her tail said: I can't wait to see this.

There were secrets even Akizuki Shiki was able to keep from the cheshiran cat, with her eyes everywhere and her smile faded not too far behind. She knew very little of his private life, save what the little boy must be like behind the wizard; she surely had her thoughts on that. It's why there was delight beneath the murmur of disquiet, carefully shading the curiosity in runny hazel - like the paint might drip too much like sludge off the easel and reveal all stains beneath. "We'll be quick, yes, my lord? Allow your dutiful attendant," and she'd bow here, as was proper, "to settle up any lingering worries. We're almost out of our fair Suna for a spell, yes? You'll want to say your final farewells, for the moment.

Wouldn't you?" F l i c k.

 

[Shikabane Ryo]

Home. A prison. The estate where Shiki resides are one in the same. The bastard child of an Uchiha that still hasn't awakened his Sharingan, still forced to carry out familial duties despite the multitudes of cruelty and disdain "gifted" to him. Of course he would bottle his true self up, shackled inside dark recesses of his ego, awaiting one of Mother's promised miracles. But, the Shiki of today could not exist in that way. No. Never. Shiki had invented a new persona, long ago, to survive this wretched existence, devoid of love or warmth - only to serve until he was dead. Truly opposites in every way. A servant transformed into proud regent. It turns out you can justify anything to yourself through the lens of absolute authority. How the brain can easily fool itself into believing itself to be something its not when you dedicate yourself to the craft. A masquerade! A performance! The ironic freedom of being anyone besides yourself.

Shiki would glance behind, accompanied by amusing company under most circumstances, but this was not one of their dances. He clicks his tongue, walking along as if nothing was wrong. It wasn't the stray's fault. This whole mess was because despite his bravado, he was still holding onto that little boy, peeking down into the abyss with opulent ruby eyes, watching his meek form bound in chains, passively waiting. waiting... Do something. It felt like mere moments but they stood in front of his family estate. The atmosphere felt suffocating every single time he was... here. He turns to face the feline who was no doubt here with nefarious intent, rubbing under her chin to at the very least distract her.

"I leave everything in your more than capable hands. I'll only be gone a moment to bid my farewell."

 

[Komorebi Rin]

The inability to express or consider empathy left Nanaka in the strange position of, for once, being unable to read Akizuki Shiki: there was a different light, a train of thought she was unable to catch, within opulent red and reflected by malignant hazel. She was an opal. She said what other people wanted her to say - did what other people wanted her to do - became what other people wanted her to be, and it was only in that skip of a moment and that chug of an engine that the hand under her chin left her . . . without reproach. She simply stared back at him. There was something innocent about her inability to connect with him, in a quiet second where that ability seemed so important. There was a languid wideness to half-lidded eyes, to the curl and unflicker of her tail, and a twitch from one ear while the other slanted down the side of her head.

"Do your best." It was without drawl or sirensong - it rolled off her tongue without thought, and lacked both concern or contempt. It was a statement. Do your best, Akizuki Shiki. There wasn't even an 'I'll be watching' tacked in intent - though, of course, she would be. That was why she took her step back, curtsied, and offered one last look before she the tap of her heel had her gone by the end of the click. She had returned to shadowed boughs, hanging in a slant and lay atop a branch overlooking the young lord's estate; and just out of sight, she remained. And just out of sight, she watched.

Was the problem that she couldn't understand what was in his eyes, as he approached his home alone?

Or had the look in the mirror long become indecipherable?

 

[Shikabane Ryo]

There was always a tug on the chains. A clanking of steel to beckon him back to the surface within the confines of the family estate that caused the regent to hesitate for a moment before cracking open the gate. A single step through the threshold - a thrum in the schism it creates. A contradiction boiling to the surface only to be held down by a steadfast glare. Quiet amidst the stifling clamor. A deep breath and a slump of his shoulders as the gate closes behind him, The inmate had returned, if only for a moment to bid his farewell.

"Young master, your father has been looking for you." And there it was. There could never be any respite in this hell, a reprieve from the ever-watchful warden, poking and prodding to ensure the mistake he brought into the world was doing his due diligence to not tarnish his reputation. Shiki was bristling, hair standing on edge against crackling glass skin. It wasn't the servant's fault. She was just simply fulfilling her role as well and still he would lash out, petty and petulant, as a child should be. "He can come find me on his own if he wishes to speak to me. I have no interest in speaking with that buffoon! If he had more orders for me he can send another servant to do his bidding. He's really good at that!" There was nothing to be said between the two. It had been that way for as long as Shiki could remember. Normally, this is where the interaction would end, but he only returned for a singular purpose. "Do your best, huh?" His mouth is incredibly dry, licking at his fangs with a deep swallow. "Actually, I'm only here to pass a message along. I'm leaving Suna for a while. So, be a good little messenger and pass that along would you?" He spits out with a rumbling growl.

Shiki passes by the woman, steeling himself for the journey through the manor. This was for the best, he thought to himself. It's better than this miserable existence. A cursory glance to the garden where one of his only pleasant memories is buried. The time when he was young and innocent still, with his mother, appreciating the time he was allowed to be with her before the grueling training he was subjected to. I'm sorry... I can't wait for a miracle anymore. He arrives at his destination, slamming the door open to collect any essentials and the money he had kept stashed away. This was a long time coming, but without meeting the stray and Hoji he probably would have stagnated and rotted in this pit even longer. Shiki leaves a hastily written farewell and fuck you for the maids to find and deliver to his dear old dad before slamming the door shut. The catharsis of a note would have to be sufficient enough, even if he could never see the look on his father's face at the open act of defiance from his bastard. He would never, ever return to this place. No matter what.

The view of the gate draws near and every step is lighter than the last. A featherweight spring to his step - wings spread in rebellion. And at the discordant rift where his coming freedom waits stood resistance. One servant turned into two accompanied by a relative he recognized. A boy one year Shiki's elder that had already unlocked the prized doujutsu of the Uchiha bloodline. He was the domesticated type of pet, acting as a common guard dog for the estate. Practically a novice in application despite the great talent he was born with. A waste. The servant was armed with a katana but was just that. An armed thug employed by the family that was no more important or threatening than a common bandit.

"Uchiha Shiki! I have orders to escort you back to your room until Lord Yatsuhiro is available to see you. He's aware of your recent... activities."

The chime of shackles and chains flutter and shake beneath the watchful crimson eyes of a tyrannical facade. The small boy stands tall, concealed in deep shadow like the void had simply permeated over his motionless body. It splits, cracking down from the middle of his skull as the shrill sound pierces though empty space. The craven young boy that was hidden away so long ago peers up at his vigilant protector, crumbling shadow falling into nothing, with his own crimson eyes adorned with black tomoe. Shiki was going to create his own miracle. A miracle to set himself free.

 

[Komorebi Rin]

He looked so small.

Nanaka felt . . . strange, looking down from her perch. Only for a moment - quiet seconds spent with a leveled gaze on Akizuki Shiki - but it was enough to add an air of discomfort to languid intoxicants. Something had soured. A swivel of wine left too late in a glass far too big for it. Shiki had always been a plaything. A toy, a dog. A funny little mutt she stumbled upon one day, with a crown weighing down lame ears and a bark too loud for a betraying tail. But when did he begin to look so small to her? They had their fun and games. They had their little theatre. It was one of very few things that had kept her invested in Sunagakure since she recovered from the streets; and no longer malnourished in diet or entertainment, she had to wonder.

Was it running its course?

She could barely make out the sounds below, but intent was all the same to feline ears. He was barking again. Howling at a servant and stamping his feet 'til his way was got once more -- she had found that not so charming, but very entertaining. He had done so in their class what felt eons ago - months, only - and she had been forced to clean his mess to save a greater one. She realized now she had come to somewhat enjoy that. The role of a butler was so far beneath her, but didn't playing the popper have its charms to a princess? She was good at it, too. The pretense of duty allowed a great many luxuries in how you approached any situation. Anything was allowed in its name. She had yet to be punished.

But those scenes had passed, each act played out, and now they were to find themselves on a long journey: and the remaining question was startling childish. Was she getting bored of the hound? Had Akizuki Shiki played all of his cards?

It was the next transpirance that had her stir, a greater sound and a shift in the air to bring even delicate hair to a point - and she sat straighter. She peered over, splaying out her elbows and twining her fingers in empty air in her own preperation. A man had approached, and the lord shifted from his role in response. He offered something new. Would he live up to his own expectation? For Nanaka couldn't see the glare he born himself anew in, but she could feel it in the air. Bitter.

 

[Shikabane Ryo]

A sharp jolt needles its way behind his eyes, a frenzied hand digging into his brow. He stirred within the absolute darkness of eyes wide shut with splitting agony, tearing the heavy iron that anchored him in that umbral chasm, limb from limb. The anguish of subjugation meets the breaking of chains. And what a beast he had become at the first whiff of freedom and the fools that would dare stand in his way. The image in front of the king was almost unrecognizable from the host he was created to reside in. Standing tall in the face of adversity with a soul humming with galvanizing static - ferocious and unrelenting and claws ready to tear a path to revolution.

His body contorts and goes still, the Shiki that would always be true to himself reigns in place of the pretend king forevermore. A slow opening of his deep crimson eyes to a world far too bright, capturing the moon's radiance in swirling black tomoe. His bloodline had awakened now, when it mattered the least to his standing with his monster of a father and instead in his desperate rebellion, clutching at small speckle of hope that freedom provided. This would mark the disappearance of Uchiha Shiki forever. And.. The reincarnation of Akizuki Shiki, branded forever with the mark of his father - the only gift he's ever received. Oh, how he relished in the irony of it all.

He laughs. Cackling. Crackling. They didn't even notice it, obscured by the grace of night. It was getting darker. So, so dark. For them. The unfortunate souls simply fulfilling their duties. They would get a taste of the void he had to languish in for all these years under the cruel despot they served. A blackened lucent soliloquy creeping along their peripherals until their sight was consumed in perfect dark. "Hmm. Nah. I've already decided. Here, send my regards." First, the Uchiha dog. Akizuki Shiki drops his bag and readies his spear, bounding forward with a thunderous step and plunges his spear straight through the Uchiha's heart, blood spraying from open wound as he impales the body against the gate, retracting back only to continue again with a flurry of stabs. This was not a duel or a fight. Simple manslaughter. The maid stumbles, a silent shriek in horror as she cowers in complete blindness. However, the wannabe samurai tried his best to be brave, drawing his weapon, yelling and slashing at the cacophony of gnashing of steel on flesh and blood raining onto the pavement. A torrent of handseals to smite down the prison guard, gathering chakra through his body into a snap of his fingers, summoning a bolt that would make the gods envious. It courses through his limp body, paralyzing him on impact until he crashes into the blood-soaked ground.

Fuck, it felt great. The catharsis of revolt.

He steps to retrieve his spear, gouging into his victim one more time for good measure. He skulks toward the whimpering servant with resolute purpose glaring down at her with newly awakened Sharingan and kneels down alongside her, facing her away from the grisly view of his crime. "When you hear the gate close behind you, the genjutsu will be released. Walk forward. Do not turn back. Pretend like you never saw anything and my father should leave you be. I don't want to hurt you, but I will if you make a fuss, alright?" He taps a hand on her shoulder and travels to the gate, ripping open the chasm to a new tomorrow and listening to it creak behind him, not once looking back.

A miracle clutched in bloody claws.

[topic exit]

 

[Komorebi Rin]

Akizuki Shiki was not a sun.

He was an abyss with a clear limit, grasping claws and desperate moans lining the innards of a darkness that ached to free itself from the grave it was forced to dig. Akizuki Shiki was a crown mausoleum.

Blackness had never shown so bright. This royal decree - this revolution, a guillotine primed over the very chains that bound the king - blinded eyes that widened just imperceptibly, but more than they had been asked for. She glared through the waves of absolution. She felt a tightness around her own wrists. A choke in her throat -- watching a hound betray its masters with deft, frenzied strokes. She felt her heart skips its beats until her breath was short inhalations to the tune of every pierce. Ba-dum. Ba-dum. Ba-dum.

She felt her own adrenaline course until her vision muddied and she was edging off the edge of the branch, every limb tense and every muscle taut and ready to pounce. To shred. To run. To hunt. She didn't know when she had begun to smile. She could only feel it now, drawing at her cheeks as if lifted by string. Her body followed. She was risen a queen from this length of bark and espionage, standing out a shaded backdrop to the wavering fear of the moon behind. No light would touch them now. It couldn't follow where they had decided to go.

Nothing would. Ever again.

She didn't need to think back to where she found Akizuki Shiki boring or not, not anymore - she didn't need to examine her feelings towards him at all. All she needed was this rush. All she needed was this indulgence. She had no ocular jutsu herself, but the brightness of ultraviolet that night could threaten even the Uchiha clan. . . . As if that was needed, with the Risen King himself doling his unfettered fate. She thought, briefly, to whether he needed her assistance. That excited her.

...And yet, despite herself, she didn't intervene. She didn't even stop him as he went to leave, to let him know what she had seen and thought and bring it over his head to find what new buttons she could push: everything she wanted to do, and she did nothing but wait for his departure. There was something inside her - a face, faces even, looking back; misshapen to her untempered gaze, but all her own in various dissaray, and all leveling the same look. It was a solemn expression. Tired eyes and softly downturned lips. What was that? Sympathy? ...Empathy?

And she was, for that second, so very small. When did that happen?

No more words were exchanged in thought or reality. Shiki had done everything he needed to do for his freedom: but her opportunity was not lost on her. Maybe some mystical, divinely intervention had saved him from her dark mirth today, but she was never one to walk away empty-handed. As the servant girl scampered off under his spell, Nanaka slipped to the courtyard below from her rise - silhouetted by her own marionette strings. She would not be the puppet today. No, not her.

And as the rabble would bark and shift and coalesce to the scene on discovery, they'd find a sorely missing detail: the victim. They would find, also, a detail not of Shiki's making. A smile in red. : )

One last fuck you to a world - a principle - that had left them both behind ... and one they were now founding for themselves.

[ topic exit ]