Despite all the times he'd encourage Soramaru and Chuutarou to cry - to let their emotions run wild and feel everything that they needed to feel because there was no weakness in being human - he never took the time to cry after his parents had died. Even in the pain, he would refuse to shed tears.
Except on the day of his execution, in which he allowed himself to shed a tear over accepting his death.
Except on this morning, in which he can't quite help himself in shedding tears because he now he refuses his death.
When he laughs, there is sadness in his voice. It never hit him what death would be like until he experienced a very close replica of it. It was a life without being able to laugh with his brothers, without being able to mess with Sousei, without being able to do everything that he clung onto so desperately for so long. He'd worked so hard and then let it all be taken away.
Now he refuses to let it happen.
Despite everything, he still laughs, despite the sadness in his voice.]
I'm not going anywhere.
[He wipes off the trail of the tear as he brings his hands down from his face and as he rolls over onto his stomach so that he can push himself up and look Sousei in the face, it's as if he wasn't crying at all.]
Except home, that is. We'll all make it back before Chuutarou even notices we're gone.
no subject
Despite all the times he'd encourage Soramaru and Chuutarou to cry - to let their emotions run wild and feel everything that they needed to feel because there was no weakness in being human - he never took the time to cry after his parents had died. Even in the pain, he would refuse to shed tears.
Except on the day of his execution, in which he allowed himself to shed a tear over accepting his death.
Except on this morning, in which he can't quite help himself in shedding tears because he now he refuses his death.
When he laughs, there is sadness in his voice. It never hit him what death would be like until he experienced a very close replica of it. It was a life without being able to laugh with his brothers, without being able to mess with Sousei, without being able to do everything that he clung onto so desperately for so long. He'd worked so hard and then let it all be taken away.
Now he refuses to let it happen.
Despite everything, he still laughs, despite the sadness in his voice.]
I'm not going anywhere.
[He wipes off the trail of the tear as he brings his hands down from his face and as he rolls over onto his stomach so that he can push himself up and look Sousei in the face, it's as if he wasn't crying at all.]
Except home, that is. We'll all make it back before Chuutarou even notices we're gone.