tenipuri_xp | RP Log: Yamato & Kirihara (Reply)

When? 17th of Feb, after the kids get back to Ryuhana
Rating? PG?
Summary: The kidnapping hit home a bit too close in Yamato's case + Akaya's not quite alright.

Akaya quite lost count of hours when he was laying in the bed, the only movement was that of his chest raising and falling with every breath. He couldn’t really sleep anymore (after the first night’s good sleep), and all he did was stare at the ceiling. It was surprising that he could stay still like that for such long time, the power wasn’t acting up for once. Probably also affected by the boy’s apathy.

Yeah, that was it. Apathy. He didn’t feel like doing anything… getting up, walking, eating, talking, meeting people… all of this made him feel sick. The 17-year-old was probably too weak to stand anyway. When he finally did shift his eyes caught a sight of something shiny on the desk. Ah… the earrings. He left them there before showering. Before he was taken away. Before all of this happened.

Pretty red… matching his irises… of a colour of blood. Diverting his eyes, Akaya looked at the opposite wall, staring at nothing in particular, or rather looking past the wall. His mind emptied… he would rather not think about what happened, even though it kept coming back at him.

Hypocrite. That’s what he was. Killing was supposed to be dumb, and there… he massacred all the scientists and guards.

It had been by a total fluke that Yamato ended up back at Kirihara’s door with such impeccable timing as to encounter him sleeping – though the boy would never see it, Yamato had been overwhelmed by relief, immediately informing Hanamura that it seemed that all three students (four, if one counted the briefly MIA Jackal) had returned safely to campus, and returned almost immediately to sit by Kirihara’s side for as long as he could before he was asked to come sit in on a conversation with the other students, Tomoka and Kikumaru, that had gone missing.

Upon hearing that, worry had once more developed in his stomach; all of this had hit terrifyingly close to home, bringing up archaic feelings that he had pushed aside so long ago just to make it through life every day. There was no part of Yamato that was angry – not yet. Anger would come later once he was done recovering from the worry and the subsequent relief.

He was also reserving judgment. From Kikumaru and Tomoka’s accounts… Akaya could be in quite a state when he awakened. Not that Yamato expected to find him awake, pushing open the unlocked door without thinking; his usual feline companion bundled in one arm. In fact, he was almost unprepared for the fact; nearly jumping out of his skin when the boy reacted, in a small way, to his presence.

There was no good in showing immediately the emotional rollercoaster he had just been put through, so the older man instead forced his face into its usual smile, though his voice was still stained with a mix of worry and relief, as he simply said, “Akaya.” Luis, in turn, lazily mewled a greeting.

Something that usually made him happy, something that in usual circumstances would make him smile, now… now only depressed Akaya more. He didn’t want to talk, damn it. And he most definitely didn’t want people looking at him, with that thought he pulled the covers over his head, as if to hide himself from the world. As if this way he could escape the responsibility of his actions. No words of greeting, no explanation, the boy just wanted to be left alone.

Hiding didn’t help much, Kirihara still could feel the other’s presence. Especially when Yamato sat on the bed… a bit too close, and Akaya shifted away, so the man wouldn’t accidentally touch him.

Yamato set Luis down on the floor; she seemed perfectly content to wander around the room – and as long as she did not get herself into any trouble, the man was more than happy to let her explore. He, instead, lightly touched the covers – reminding the boy beneath, “It’s not as though I could see you before you did that.” He did not know what was going on in Kirihara’s head – what made him feel uncomfortable just then, but Yamato had to continue to reserve judgment; his voice light, not quite teasing.

He withdrew his hand, settling both on his lap, unseeing eyes hidden behind dark glasses drifting away to face ahead of him; away from the skittish younger mutant. Even if he did come out from under the covers, it would not make a difference to Yamato, now, so he just continued to talk, as though they were face to face. “You know, part of me thought I’d never see you again; silly, isn’t it? You’re the last person that would let himself get kidnapped.” Between the martial arts classes, and the alarming strength of Kirihara’s power (craters in floors and exploding tables aside), there was virtually nothing to worry about.

“You don’t ever have to come out from under that cover if you don’t want to,” continued the man, “But I’d love to see the look on your face if I told you back when we met that Kirihara Akaya trembles in the face of adversity and hides under blankets.” It was not meant to be an appeal to Kirihara’s pride, but it doubtlessly came across that way. “Actually, right now, I’d just love to see your face – it hasn’t been the easiest couple days for me, either – and I’d like to understand what you’re thinking.”

So I’m not forced to pass judgment, Yamato added in his head, though he would not speak that aloud.

… right, there was a matter of that as well. How did it happen that he of all the people got kidnapped? He was… tired, after quite eventful evening/night with… yeah, the man himself. Though Akaya didn’t and never would blame Yamato for that, if anyone then he himself was to be blamed. That shouldn’t have him weak and distracted enough to not notice the intruders, but… whatever, it happened and no one could change it now.

The boy didn’t know what to think about Yamato’s behaviour, about the words he said… somewhere down inside, unconsciously, he wanted to be held close, embraced, even though… quite the opposite to what Akaya was showing outwardly. And opposite to what he was thinking.

Though… at the moment, he didn’t think that much at all. He muttered from under the covers, “There’s not much to understand.”

"Perhaps not," agreed the man; mostly just for the sake of being agreeable and not pushing the boy beyond his limits -- especially if what Tomoka and Kikumaru had explained was true. Though he was no always the most sensitive person in the world, even Yamato knew when to not tease or pry. That would not stop him from getting what he wanted out of Kirihara; he would just have to take a slightly different approach.

"Well, I don't understand why you're hiding from me," he offered; maybe if he could at least get the boy talking, they could make some progress.

Curling up under the covers, Akaya squeezed his eyes tightly shut. Why was he hiding? Why? This question had no answer, or maybe it had. Why was he hiding from the man? Maybe because… he was ashamed? Ashamed… no, more like disgusted with himself.

Yeah, that was probably the word, disgusted. If he couldn’t stand looking at himself why would anyone else? But… Yamato was Yamato, right? He would understand? But what did Akaya want him to understand? Finally making up his mind, the boy shifted slowly into a sitting position. He felt a bit dizzy, he hadn’t eaten since he came back, but sitting was alright. The blankets slid off the narrow shoulders, pooling in Kirihara’s lap.

The boy still didn’t offer any words in return.

Feeling the shift of the bed, and hearing the covers slip away, Yamato could not help but smile -- that was a little better, at least. Progress. Small steps. "How do you feel?" Part of the man was mourning the fact that he could not just find out for himself -- when it came to anyone else, he could easily know what they were experiencing -- whether it be pain, hunger, thirst -- without having to use clumsy words that would force Akaya to speak... then again, was that not his very objective here?

“I’m fine.” Akaya answered immediately. Lies, lies, lies. Why couldn’t the boy say the truth? Why was it so hard? Shaking his head, he tried again, “I’m…” Annoyed, ashamed, disgusted with myself… “hungry and weak.” Great, way to go. His voice was quiet, unnaturally, hollow. Just like he felt inside.

"When's the last time you ate?" It must have been before he fell asleep... and it could have even been before they were kidnapped, which would make it days ago, now -- before he even showed up at Yamato's room on Valentine's Day. Hopefully that was not the case. "I can go get you something, if you feel like you can eat." As the man spoke, he was suddenly pounced on by Luis who made her way from his lap (where she lingered only moments) to Akaya, sitting expectantly; her tail swished rhythmically with a low purr.

… Kirihara stared at the kitten sitting right before him. He had an urge to pet her, but… the thought was quickly quashed. Even though he took a long shower, Akaya still felt dirty and he didn’t want to do that to Luis… Despite this, the boy reached out and gently scratched her behind the ears. Realising what he was doing, he pulled his hand away immediately.

When was the last time he ate? He… didn’t quite remember anymore. “Probably… long time ago,” 3 days ago? “but I’ll throw it up anyway.” Any jokes about him being pregnant would just be a death wish. As weak as he felt, he still could… no, he couldn’t. Either way these kinds of jokes wouldn’t meet with good reaction.

Quizically, the cat mewled in protest, walking around in a tight circle before curling up against the crook of Akaya's knee, the very tip of her tail still swishing as bright yellow eyes fell closed. As she settled, Yamato found her back blindly, running his fingers over dark fur, and warrenting more deep, contented purring from the small creature.

"You need to at least have water - maybe you can try some soup, later." Yamato continued to smile, hoping that his presence alone might help pull Akaya out of this at least a little. This... whatever it was. Remorse? Shock? It was hard to say, until Yamato knew what Akaya thought had happened to the three of them... already, the teacher was under the impression that it involved Akaya's powers getting away from him and... well, he was not going to pass judgment or jump to conclusions. Not until Kirihara spoke would he form an opinion.

Drawing his hand away from the cat, and letting it fall in his lap, Yamato offered, "You know, whatever happend... it isn't your fault. You didn't ask to be kidnapped - you'd have to be crazy. And not explaining what happened only puts us in danger of losing another group of students to a similar incident... or something much worse." Sensory memories, for Yamato much stronger than most, flashed through him - the smell of fresh blood, ear-piercing screams, laughter... He wanted, at all costs, to protect the students presently in his care... he would not let something like that happen again.

Why cats had to be so affectionate? Just like Eiji… Akaya wanted to put Luis away, but he didn’t and only ran the tips of his fingers over her back, thinking.

One, two, three…

Not my fault? Whose fault then?

There was the guilt, similar incident? No, can’t be. No, shouldn’t happen.

“They have put a collar on me… us, I mean,” the boy started slowly, whispering, almost as if he was talking to himself, “I don’t know what it was, but… it locked the energy up inside. Inside, and it was too much. For hours. Too much.” Then, he did put the kitten away, pulling his knees up and wrapping his arms around them. His back resting against the wall. “It just happened… I don’t know… when they took it off… it just happened…” His voice was breaking. No, no, no… no crying now. He couldn’t… wouldn’t… Fuck it.

Unblinking, the man held out a hand to guide the cat back to his own lap, listening carefully to be sure he even could hear what it was that Akaya had to say. It just happened. So... it had been as he thought; Kirihara lost control of his powers... or perhaps they simply gained control of him. When cornered, many animals would lash out -- and perhaps his powers were the same way. Bottled up, aggrivated... afraid... "You must have been frightened," offered the older mutant, knowing full well that normally, he would get snapped at for suggesting such a thing... somehow, he doubted he would, now.

"When the collar was removed, you could free yourself easily," he surmised, one hand reaching up to touch his lips. "They could not possibly have been prepared for what you are capable of." It would be like giving a grenade to a curious child -- they could never hope to know what would happen if they pulled the pin, and would only have seconds before they would find out. But... Akaya could not destroy flesh; Yamato had experienced what he thought was the brunt of the boy's powers when it came to the living; strategic explosions could have potentially...

Piecing things together, he could feel his chest begin to ache -- to think harm came to his students was one thing... to think of their messy demise as a result was another. And Akaya... his values strongly opposed killing; he would probably claim he thought it was "stupid," in a flippant tone, but Yamato had a feeling that, like most things with him, it ran considerably deeper. If what Yamato suspected was true... well, one thing at a time.

"Did they ever explain why they took you, or the purpose of the collars beyond controlling your powers?" The man adjusted his glasses with two fingers, wiping away the furrow of his brow.

At that the sobs broke free. Why did Yamato made him talk about this so much? Shit, he never thought he would
cry... Over something like this. Though... in the end it was something to cry over, probably. Akaya hugged his knees tighter. "I don't know." How could he focus on anything else than the soundless buzz inside? It took his all attention, which was probably why in the end he lost it, but... it was impossible to ignore the energy. If one never experienced it, they wouldn't know. Wouldn't understand. "Even if they did..." The boy didn't pay any mind to it, "I don't know."

He had hit the nail on the head - Yamato knew from the harsh breathing that he was, unfortunately, correct... once more, too-vivid sensory memories sprang to the surface; blood, slick and wet, oozed between his fingers despite his efforts to prevent it... it left behind crackling trails of dried blood that he could never seem to wash away, huddled in the very corner of the shower, long after the water had run ice cold. Honestly, Yamato did not remember ever crying... all he remembered was pain - pain so powerful it felt nearly physical - and wondering over how the water numbed him... how he could almost slide into oblivion, shutting off his four remaining senses with the constant stream of freezing water.

That brush with death, however, was not the same as Akaya's... it was by self-preservation that the boy had done it... Yamato refused to believe otherwise. "I'm not going to tell you it's okay, Akaya," the man said almost sternly, shifting a bit closer to the boy. "Nor will I tell you it's ever going to be okay." Carefully, Yamato settled one hand in dark curls, just enough to sooth down some of the more rebelious locks of hair. "But you aren't alone. You don't have to talk right now, but I want you to understand that the only way we can help - the only way I can help - is if you tell us what's going on."

Akaya twitched at the touch, but he didn’t pull away. Instead he gently pulled the man’s hand down, pressing his cheek into it, holding it with his both hands. Wasn’t it obvious what was going on? “I killed them,” breathy whisper, almost inaudible. Memories… too clear. All too clear. Did he honestly enjoy it then? No, no, no… couldn’t be, could not be. It was the energy, when it lashed out, that felt good. It wasn’t the killing, the pain he caused, the screams… no, couldn’t be. “And I felt relief when I did.” He was trembling, shaking…

Unblinking, the older man did not move an inch, just allowing Kirihara to take comfort wherever he could find it - if the touch of his hand was soothing, he would gladly give that. "Part of me is relieved, too," the older man assured, "Because I would not be able to rest thinking they could still come for you at any time." A thin tremor began in his own shoulders, though he tried to keep his hand steady for Akaya's sake - he would not be much of a man if he could not at least comfort the boy. "I'm not prepared to see another mutant die; and I'm not prepared to lose you. For that, I can't say I would have done differently, in your shoes.

"Further, your power was not meant to be contained like that; we learned that long ago. If you don't wind down, even with your level of control, you'll blast half the school to smitherines." The man sighed, putting his free hand to his temples, as though to ward off a headache. "Which is not to say I'm entirely happy with you, right now." Unhappy was also not the word for what Yamato was feeling - days of worry working out of his system coupled with the fact that he was not entirely sure how to proceed were knotting him up into a bundle of nerves.

"It's murder," he said softly, some level of disgust creeping into his voice. "And that's something that will never wash away as long as you live - but you could have been killed; who knows what their intentions for you were." He was not doing such a good job of making his point, and from the looks of things, the man was only managing to upset Akaya further. "Sometimes, we just have to look at life as the survival of the fittest; they challenged your mortality and lost." If you play with fire, you're bound to get burned. Yamato leaned a bit closer to press a gentle kiss into Akaya's forehead, trying to display that he was not exactly angry... more like disappointed; overwhelmed.

Carefully, he concluded, "I'm not sure I'm ready to just accept that this happened and not pass any sort of judgment on you; I wish I could say that I felt that way. But this doesn't change that you are my..." His...? "You're the most important thing to me, right now, Akaya."

There was nothing Akaya had to say to that, his eyes burned when the tears finally broke free, falling on Yamato’s hand, but he stopped sobbing. Calming down his breathing, heartbeat… nerves. All in all… he thought he understood what the man was saying, well, what he was trying to say. It hurt a bit, but it was fair… the boy knew that much, he wasn’t happy with himself either… not in a least. This part should be clear enough.

He leaned to the side, his head on the older mutant’s shoulder. Somehow calmer, feeling a little bit better. Even though he just got sort of scolded, but… that’s what he needed probably. A little bit of understatement, a little bit of stern talking and a little bit of… of… feelings. He still couldn’t use the word ‘love’.

The tears were still falling, surprisingly slow… they were cleansing his mind. He could live with it, hopefully… as long as he had someone. “I’m sorry,” Akaya said softly after these few moments of silence.

"I'm not the one to apologize to," the older man insisted quietly, making an effort to tame wild curls with one hand - really, someone ought to just buy a hairbrush for this kid. The thought brought a soft smile to his face, despite the rest of the conflicting emotions - love clashing with disappointment, anger clashing with understanding... "But I know you are – I know you wouldn't have done this of your sound mind and body; you don't have to prove that to me."

Yamato wanted to tell the boy that he would always be there - if ever Akaya needed him, he was there... but with Kirihara's aversion to words, it probably would not get a warm reception. So, instead, he just held the boy close and hoped it would convey the same message; there were several levels to their relationship, and one was still that Yamato was the older half of the pair, and by that alone the source of clarity and comfort.

It didn’t take long for Akaya to fall asleep. He was comfortably warm, safe and… tired. Mostly mentally, but surprisingly enough the energy couldn’t keep him awake. The boy was still hungry too, but that could come later. For now sleep, much better than the previous one… much calmer.

Yamato was patient with Kirihara falling asleep in his arms for what seemed to drag into eternity, but was probably no more than twenty minutes. Gingerly, he settled the boy back into his bed, careful not to wake him, and left Luis in his place; the feline was all too happy to curl under the boy's chin. "I'll be right back," he promised her, carefully making his way out the door. He would just go get water and food, and then come back – just enough to make sure Akaya did not faint on him.

...And, Luis would not be going anywhere. For now, at least, Yamato wanted to keep as close an eye on the boy as he could manage. Who knew what could happen the moment he turned his back?