[It's clear from the look on Yasusada's face that this is news to him. He's never been one to hide his feelings, and this is no different--his eyes widen, searching Sanji's face, as if even he knows what else he might be looking for.
It doesn't last long, though. He's wavered on the thought of letting Sanji come along this whole time, torn between the idea of keeping Sanji safe and of working with--not a master exactly, but more than a partner. With the state of his arm, he'd allowed himself to be swayed towards the latter, but now...
When his expression shifts, it settles into nothing more than determination.
Wasn't this a foregone conclusion from the start?]
I'll do my best, then.
[One of them has to survive, in order to bring back Okita. The alternative is unacceptable. No matter his form, he is, at his core, a tool to be used--even if he dies, be it at Yin Yu's hands or by damnation via evidence, at least he will have done so serving his purpose.]
Sanji knew damn well the reaction Yasusada would give him once he found out. In order for Sanji to survive, to keep his promises, to hold onto the goodwill of the camp so that he can win, the sword must fight alone and take the fall by himself. Anything more is an unnecessary gamble.
Sanji knew it.
And still his expression freezes up with pain, jaw clenched like he's suddenly seconds away from crumbling. He locks himself in place to keep from snapping out an order he can't take back, a plea for Yasusada to rethink this -- and shit, do they need to kill at all? Is it even worth it?
(And was he always this indecisive when it came to the hard decisions? What happened to the Editor who damned at least eight souls? Where did Dragon's champion go?)
He feels so old and young at the same time. A twenty-one year old war veteran without his crew, without Zelos... and maybe soon without Yasusada, too.]
[Forcing the words out despite the physical pain they cause him, eyes bright but dry, and Sanji tosses him an understanding nod. A smile.
He has no right, does he? To ask the sword to make this one exception and take him along, and risk the chance of being left behind again.
Sanji lived and breathed that memory. He saw Souji wither and die with Yasusada unable to save him. And he's watched this sword cling to a chef, chasing an imitation of leadership.
Ha. If he were more selfish, if he'd never seen the trauma that Yasusada has lived through -- but no. There's no point wishing on a path that's already been cut away, and so Sanji brutally refuses himself the luxury of pity. This shit isn't even about the killing anymore.
It's about giving Yasusada the chance to pick his own closure, should the end arrive. No matter the stakes, Sanji... can't take that away from him, even if he wants to die more.]
[The thing is, Yasusada has always been more observant than people give him credit for.
He has to be. Okita's prowess in battle was due, not only to his strength and speed, but to his sharp eyes, his ability to assess an opponent and compensate for moves they hadn't realized they'd decided to make. It's a skill that translated seamlessly outside of battle, helping him say and do all the right things to get his men in top form, to build friendships and loyalty of his own, bound by the sincerity they all wear on their backs.
Okita, of course, was--is much better with other humans than Yasusada will ever be. Yasusada's fine with that; not once has he ever wanted to be more than the best sword he can be. But that doesn't mean he can't recognize pain when he sees it. It doesn't mean he's oblivious to the fact that, this time, Sanji could very well be the one left behind.
(If he isn't caught, that's one thing, but he will not frame someone else. He doesn't think he needs to say that out loud, for it to be clear.)
He opens his mouth--but, no. Now isn't the time for goodbyes, is it? Saying any sort of "goodbye" before a battle, isn't that bad luck? And they have enough of that already.
So instead, he tilts his head to the side just slightly, and smiles. It's the same relieved smile he gave Okita, when Okita agreed to be his executioner at the castle. Sanji has no way of knowing that, of course--nor does he have any way of hearing the parallel, in what Yasusada decides to say instead.]
Sanji-kun, will you tell me about them? That swordsman, and the others. From your home.
[He'd been granted the chance to look at Sanji's memories, before they'd gotten so severely sidetracked by his own. Thoughts of Okita, and Kashuu, those short, brilliant days they'd spent so happily together--that's what brings Yasusada the most comfort, even when he knows how it all ends. Surely Sanji, too, draws his strength from memories like that, right?
Whatever snow was left on him has melted by now, chilling his skin. But that's fine. He dislikes hot summer days anyway.]
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no subject
It doesn't last long, though. He's wavered on the thought of letting Sanji come along this whole time, torn between the idea of keeping Sanji safe and of working with--not a master exactly, but more than a partner. With the state of his arm, he'd allowed himself to be swayed towards the latter, but now...
When his expression shifts, it settles into nothing more than determination.
Wasn't this a foregone conclusion from the start?]
I'll do my best, then.
[One of them has to survive, in order to bring back Okita. The alternative is unacceptable. No matter his form, he is, at his core, a tool to be used--even if he dies, be it at Yin Yu's hands or by damnation via evidence, at least he will have done so serving his purpose.]
1/2
Sanji knew damn well the reaction Yasusada would give him once he found out. In order for Sanji to survive, to keep his promises, to hold onto the goodwill of the camp so that he can win, the sword must fight alone and take the fall by himself. Anything more is an unnecessary gamble.
Sanji knew it.
And still his expression freezes up with pain, jaw clenched like he's suddenly seconds away from crumbling. He locks himself in place to keep from snapping out an order he can't take back, a plea for Yasusada to rethink this -- and shit, do they need to kill at all? Is it even worth it?
(And was he always this indecisive when it came to the hard decisions? What happened to the Editor who damned at least eight souls? Where did Dragon's champion go?)
He feels so old and young at the same time. A twenty-one year old war veteran without his crew, without Zelos... and maybe soon without Yasusada, too.]
no subject
[Forcing the words out despite the physical pain they cause him, eyes bright but dry, and Sanji tosses him an understanding nod. A smile.
He has no right, does he? To ask the sword to make this one exception and take him along, and risk the chance of being left behind again.
Sanji lived and breathed that memory. He saw Souji wither and die with Yasusada unable to save him. And he's watched this sword cling to a chef, chasing an imitation of leadership.
Ha. If he were more selfish, if he'd never seen the trauma that Yasusada has lived through -- but no. There's no point wishing on a path that's already been cut away, and so Sanji brutally refuses himself the luxury of pity. This shit isn't even about the killing anymore.
It's about giving Yasusada the chance to pick his own closure, should the end arrive. No matter the stakes, Sanji... can't take that away from him, even if he wants to die more.]
Good luck.
THROWS YOU INTO THE SUN
He has to be. Okita's prowess in battle was due, not only to his strength and speed, but to his sharp eyes, his ability to assess an opponent and compensate for moves they hadn't realized they'd decided to make. It's a skill that translated seamlessly outside of battle, helping him say and do all the right things to get his men in top form, to build friendships and loyalty of his own, bound by the sincerity they all wear on their backs.
Okita, of course, was--is much better with other humans than Yasusada will ever be. Yasusada's fine with that; not once has he ever wanted to be more than the best sword he can be. But that doesn't mean he can't recognize pain when he sees it. It doesn't mean he's oblivious to the fact that, this time, Sanji could very well be the one left behind.
(If he isn't caught, that's one thing, but he will not frame someone else. He doesn't think he needs to say that out loud, for it to be clear.)
He opens his mouth--but, no. Now isn't the time for goodbyes, is it? Saying any sort of "goodbye" before a battle, isn't that bad luck? And they have enough of that already.
So instead, he tilts his head to the side just slightly, and smiles. It's the same relieved smile he gave Okita, when Okita agreed to be his executioner at the castle. Sanji has no way of knowing that, of course--nor does he have any way of hearing the parallel, in what Yasusada decides to say instead.]
Sanji-kun, will you tell me about them? That swordsman, and the others. From your home.
[He'd been granted the chance to look at Sanji's memories, before they'd gotten so severely sidetracked by his own. Thoughts of Okita, and Kashuu, those short, brilliant days they'd spent so happily together--that's what brings Yasusada the most comfort, even when he knows how it all ends. Surely Sanji, too, draws his strength from memories like that, right?
Whatever snow was left on him has melted by now, chilling his skin. But that's fine. He dislikes hot summer days anyway.]