[ He leaves Gen's side, the moment that the emotions begin to pour from him. The wounded sound that Gen makes is familiar, the storm of sentiment he feels for the shard ( for the boy, named Reiji ) that erupts within him is something he can only distantly catalog. He'll examine it later, he'll look over it later, he'll decide how to punish Gen based on the information later, how to use it and even the imbalance between them because Minegishi Gen just did not ask him. Treated him like he was every other person in his life, not the one who —
He walks to the side, as Gen curls around Reiji's shard, and begins to sift through the terrain for his own precious item. The jars. First, he cards apart the grasses as if the other two are further hidden. Second, he digs at the earth a little, quietly frantic — and then third, he gathers the two jars into his arms with eerie calm and begins to approach Gen again. Eyes dark, pupils thin. The storm of his own mind erupting like a volcano, like a hurricane buffeting the fragile walls of a coastal town; a screaming, keening wind upon which a name can be heard. ( Anubis. Anubis, Anubis. )
It's not Reiji's fault that he's here, helpless and dependent. It's Gen's.
He reaches down, cradling his two jars in his arm, and touches the top of Gen's head. Stroking his hair softly. Sifting through the agony within his mind, as he forcefully compartmentalizes his own — keeps it far away, under lock and key and away from further exploitation. Instead, he slips his fingers into that love-guilt and pries it up a little more, saying softly: ] You should never have wanted him.
[ Hollow. Soft. ]
But, you did, and because of you — he will suffer. Innocents always suffer the most for our greed.
[ It's the same way he feels about Anubis. The words aren't a threat, they're just,
no subject
He walks to the side, as Gen curls around Reiji's shard, and begins to sift through the terrain for his own precious item. The jars. First, he cards apart the grasses as if the other two are further hidden. Second, he digs at the earth a little, quietly frantic — and then third, he gathers the two jars into his arms with eerie calm and begins to approach Gen again. Eyes dark, pupils thin. The storm of his own mind erupting like a volcano, like a hurricane buffeting the fragile walls of a coastal town; a screaming, keening wind upon which a name can be heard. ( Anubis. Anubis, Anubis. )
It's not Reiji's fault that he's here, helpless and dependent. It's Gen's.
He reaches down, cradling his two jars in his arm, and touches the top of Gen's head. Stroking his hair softly. Sifting through the agony within his mind, as he forcefully compartmentalizes his own — keeps it far away, under lock and key and away from further exploitation. Instead, he slips his fingers into that love-guilt and pries it up a little more, saying softly: ] You should never have wanted him.
[ Hollow. Soft. ]
But, you did, and because of you — he will suffer. Innocents always suffer the most for our greed.
[ It's the same way he feels about Anubis. The words aren't a threat, they're just,
understanding. ]