[There's something about the thrill of fights that always gets Souji's blood boiling, and something about the promise of one that sets his entire soul at ease in the strangest of ways. Like any sword would be, most likely.
He doesn't really understand much of this as it comes, but he knows that Reyna is self-sufficient, that Nico is incredibly strong despite being a year younger than Tetsunosuke. There's talk of demigods, of werewolves, all manners of mystical things he just doesn't understand. And while there's a trill of panic when the numbers are counted - of course it's always an unfair fight - there's something about this small group that he has an incredible faith in.
When the fight finally erupts, his hands twitch subconsciously at his sides, since he's always Ready For Combat. Reyna and her dogs are honestly an impressive team...
And then the memory is shifting, red tangled into red, though it's a different kind of blood this time. Blood on the sheets, blood in his hand, blood covering the crumpled handkerchiefs surrounding his pillow. From Souji's perspective, it's just this empty room and the aching of his lungs and that painful, full-bodied cough that brings up mouthful after mouthful of blood. He can see a shadow outside of his room, hear the floorboards creak - hesitation.
But his begging for the screen to remain shut isn't heeded, and it's flung open with tremendous force. Souji is left nearly face-down despite his struggle to right himself, still coughing violently, still trying to beg. His visitor's face, when he finally looks up, is twisted in a hollowed-out sort of terror, like he's looking at death itself. It's a relatively short memory that slips away in curls of copper on his tongue, panic, and the rising sounds of terror from the man in his doorway.]
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toughchoices) wrote2018-06-15 08:05 pm
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He doesn't really understand much of this as it comes, but he knows that Reyna is self-sufficient, that Nico is incredibly strong despite being a year younger than Tetsunosuke. There's talk of demigods, of werewolves, all manners of mystical things he just doesn't understand. And while there's a trill of panic when the numbers are counted - of course it's always an unfair fight - there's something about this small group that he has an incredible faith in.
When the fight finally erupts, his hands twitch subconsciously at his sides, since he's always Ready For Combat. Reyna and her dogs are honestly an impressive team...
And then the memory is shifting, red tangled into red, though it's a different kind of blood this time. Blood on the sheets, blood in his hand, blood covering the crumpled handkerchiefs surrounding his pillow. From Souji's perspective, it's just this empty room and the aching of his lungs and that painful, full-bodied cough that brings up mouthful after mouthful of blood. He can see a shadow outside of his room, hear the floorboards creak - hesitation.
But his begging for the screen to remain shut isn't heeded, and it's flung open with tremendous force. Souji is left nearly face-down despite his struggle to right himself, still coughing violently, still trying to beg. His visitor's face, when he finally looks up, is twisted in a hollowed-out sort of terror, like he's looking at death itself. It's a relatively short memory that slips away in curls of copper on his tongue, panic, and the rising sounds of terror from the man in his doorway.]