I do not care if...one believes. Or not. I do not...know how to pray regardless. And neither would I...put my beliefs in. A higher power. And if it existed, divine power wouldn't care for...human trifles.
[That would strike him as surprisingly profound were Lovecraft not a strikingly profound man, but he is. Compelled to sit, Nishi wanders over, a little less sure of his footing, before dropping unceremoniously onto the pew.]
How sad. I would want to believe in a higher power- or at least hope for one.
[Hope for someone merciful, undeserving as he is.]
Because I started it. Because I earned it. Because that's karma.
[He has a lifetime of mistakes to answer for, and he thought he had. In his second life he did everything right: hurt no one, gave freely, burned himself out to keep others warm. And for what? To end up here, in some rose-colored hell tugging at his frayed edges, threatening to pull him apart.
The thought is unbearable. Abruptly, he tips sideways, cheek pressing against Lovecraft's bony shoulder, his weight thrown carelessly there.]
If it bothers you so, then treat me well. Make me happy.
[A tall order. Impossible, really, but he's in just the mood for senseless demands, piling more on Lovecraft's shoulders than anyone should bear. So it goes. Karma will punish him for it later.]
[He's never had anyone rely on him quite like this. Lean on him in this way. He's not a warm rock, but a cold cliffside to bash boats that are coming to shore.]
[John, though, John had liked him regardless. Shared his feelings even though he painted on a smile. He hated himself. He hated his position. And Lovecraft couldn't do a thing. They were in their own similar cages.]
...I don't know if I can.
[But even so...there is something to their previous agreement, even if it was heated and spelled out in the midst of swallowed breaths and running water. Nishi said he would give him everything he wanted. More freedom. And he agreed to it, placed himself in his hands.]
[Tit for tat. Perhaps this is colored by his concern for John, forever eating himself on the inside.]
[His hand moves up and around to stroke through the other's hair, gently.]
[No consideration for karma, eh...? That's just like a man who has turned away from God, forced into the shadows by the expectations of others. They're alike, Nishi thinks, though he can still see a way out for Lovecraft that he cannot see for himself.
And maybe he'll only drag Lovecraft down by leaning on him for comfort, but Nishi so seldom does. He's told himself he doesn't need it — hardly knew it — so it's uncomfortable and frightening when it should be soothing. It hurts to accept this, his body stiffening briefly under Lovecraft's touch despite demanding it, because he can't take what he doesn't deserve.
His eyes sting, vaguely. Probably the alcohol, or so he'd claim, but he simply shuts his eyes and ignores it, losing himself in the image brought to mind by Lovecraft's words.]
I feel like... I've heard that before, but it's not so uncommon, is it? Blond hair. It's nothing special.
It may be. But yours...is very much so. That image, I mean.
[Just like him, he's not used to touch. Not used to others in his life. They're both solitary creatures, aren't they?]
[Nishi may shine bright like a star, but inside is a darkness that drags him down to the deep.]
[Lovecraft has always been down in the deep for as long as he can remember. He's never been bothered by it. It's simply a fact. The sky is blue. He belongs there.]
[That is his home.]
[And now, a person like this is there, too.]
I'm used to...dark things. So you are a sight for...these eyes of mine.
[He cups the side of Nishi's head, keeping him where he is.]
[Prone to introspection, Nishi often wonders if he was ever meant to be happy. He's found purpose in lifting others to their potential — people like Tsukasa and Noelle — but he struggles to see himself reaching the heights they will someday reach.
Maybe he gave up too soon, or he's too afraid, or the answer is far simpler than he can accept. Regardless, he feels the depths are where he belongs, drowned in a melancholy that seems to follow him across lifetimes.
Lovecraft, however, sees him differently: a blazing sun, a comet streaking across the night sky, someone worthy of admiration and trust. Nishi doesn't disbelieve him, he just finds it hard to perceive what Lovecraft does, blinded by the mask he wears rather than the man beneath.
He won't admit to needing comfort, yet he'll lean in closer, finding Lovecraft's touch unexpectedly warm.]
Perspective is a strange thing. On the surface, I might look friendly, warm, capable. In reality... I think you'll find we're far more alike than you realize.
[There's a brief movement of Lovecraft's mouth of that. The semblance of a a smile. A rare thing on such a usually dour face. Nishi says that like its some monumental statement, some grand reveal. Hilarious. He doesn't laugh, but maybe he should, here.]
...Isn't that why...you asked for me to work with you...in the first place?
[He tucks his hand underneath the other's jaw, presses it upwards a little, just so he can look down with his oddly purple eyes. The same dark purple as the rose that Nishi pressed between in his teeth in the form of petals, tearing it away.]
[From his cheek's perch against Lovecraft's shoulder, he catches the rare sight of that smile. The beginnings of a laugh that never quite comes. His first instinct is to bristle, to take offense, but then Lovecraft tilts his chin, makes him meet those violet eyes, and Nishi's hazy mind stalls.
The abyss, it turns out, is beautiful.]
...Ah. You've caught me in a contradiction.
[The truth he's overlooked his entire life: those who see past the mask choose to trust the man beneath it. His facade has never fooled everyone— never could.]
Well. Of course I asked you to work with me. You're capable. Stronger than you realize.
[For once, words fail him. Lovecraft is right, and Nishi has nothing to refute it with— but he can at least let his expression twist petulant, sulky as though that might cover the warmth in his chest.]
[He isn't. Even he has that amount of self awareness. He's not made for being outside, interacting with others, getting deals, or doing most general things in life without feeling exhausted or anxious about it. All he has is his ability. Nishi didn't even see that, yet he's so confident...]
[He exhales a little huff of a sigh, thumb pressed against the other's chin.]
[He hasn't blinked for a minute.]
We can both be the same and different. [He repeats after him, monotone. Makes no logical sense. But maybe on some irrational level it does. The petulance is cute - there's a little pinch to his eyebrows that seems so innocent compared to how Lovecraft knows the man can be.] I didn't mean it...in a bad way. There must be some...comfort in that.
[Lovecraft's monotone echoes him back, a mirror reflecting his own contradictions. Nishi huffs a soft laugh against the thumb pressed to his chin, eyes falling half-lidded. Those eyes of Lovecraft's have seen too much... but Nishi doesn't distrust him, so he can allow himself a little bit of honesty.]
Comfort, hm...
[It's almost foreign on his tongue, that word. He's offered his comfort to others readily, though it doesn't always land, and Nishi's way of caring for others often reads as harsh. Maybe they have that in common, too. Lovecraft may not radiate warmth and compassion — just the opposite — but there is so much more to him than appearances would suggest. Nishi does feel some degree of comfort, thanks to him.]
...I think there is. Though I'm not accustomed to admitting it.
[He leans the barest bit further into the touch, as though testing how long it will stay.]
You're a good man, Lovecraft. I don't hand out words like that carelessly.
[Nishi is timid and bold and angry and scared and worried and lonely and all of these things wrapped up in each other. Truly a mess.]
[Nishi also laughs like a little bell, he thinks. His thumb moves up, carresses his lower lip, wondering if he could hear such a thing again.]
...I'm not.
[A good man, really. He is selfish and petty and tired and anxious and too afraid of everyone else constantly. And he has blood on his hands. He is not good.]
[....Maybe he's not a man, either, though he isn't sure this is the time or place to express that fear that burrows in his chest.
[Lovecraft sighs a little, not pulling away.]
You see things I cannot see. [Like there's a part open to Nishi alone. No, John must have seen it, too, to have this much faith in him. To call him a friend.] But I will...also admit. You can also...offer comfort.
[He wouldn't just sit here like this with just anyone. He, like a cat, must feel safe, first.]
[He trusts the weight of his chin to Lovecraft's fingertips, leaning on him, comfortable doing so. He smiles at the thought that Lovecraft might be gaining something from this interaction more than Nishi is simply troubling him in his drunken state. Though really, he feels like the one getting the lion's share of the benefit here. His laugh, soft...?
Nishi tips his head to one side, curious. Almost disbelieving.]
You've heard my laugh on a couple of occasions now. The first time was not so pretty...
[An almost manic sound as he pulled the rose from Lovecraft's chest. The laugh of someone unwell on some deep, intrinsic level.]
[He can't even explain why. But it feel like it fit. Like he was familiar with it. It sat under his skin, made his nerves buzz in a way that felt like it added to the heat of pleasure. Lovecraft hums, dipping his head closer, forehead against forehead.]
[He doesn't remember laughing at all. Joy and mirth feel like foreign words that don't belong in his dictionary.]
[Even when they're this close, forehead to forehead, Nishi can't bring himself to look away. Lovecraft's eyes simply fascinate him with their depth, a sight that he takes full advantage of knowing others likely fear getting lost in Lovecraft's sights. Their loss.]
Hm? What is it?
[He'll answer Lovecraft's question, so long as he can.]
[He opens his mouth. Closes his mouth. Thinks of how to say it. Words never come easy to him. John was a talker. Hawthorne had an eloquent way with words. Twain was boisterous and friendly and the life of the party.]
[And then him, who feels like every word out of his mouth is spoken through water.]
If I wasn't...human. Would that make...any difference...to you?
[...There's that laugh again, the chiming of a bell. He can't be too aggrieved that the answer isn't obvious. After all, being appreciated in earnest is something Lovecraft is unused to.
So Nishi's answer comes without delay, his hand seeking Lovecraft's leg to hold fast to it, assure him.]
[Well, shouldn't it? Perhaps he's simply biased - he, who is constantly worried and afraid and thinking the worst out of everything. Wouldn't the logical thing any regular person would do when faced with a monster is run and hide? He's never understood why people are scared around him, but if what he thinks is true, then...]
[That would make sense.]
[But Nishi, of course, makes no sense. And accepts it as easily as anything.]
[He doesn't know what to say, gaze glancing to the side self-consciously, before they land back on Nishi's eyes. The hand feels like an anchor. It is reassuring.]
I still don't know what...who I am, but I...wanted to know. How you would feel if that was the case.
I can't say I know myself either, but I suppose my situation is a bit different. Regardless, there are some things I feel rather than think.
[Like his guiding principals. His personal values. Some things are intrinsic, part of the weave of someone's soul.]
What separates a monster from a man, in most eyes, is nothing more than perception. When people refuse to question those perceptions, they make poor judges of character. It sounds as if you've met too many of those types.
[He shifts, now, deciding something. He pulls away, but he's tugging the man after him, guiding him to rest his head in his lap if he follows. Here, he can have full access to that lovely soft hair, see his face in full.]
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insistence) wrote2025-08-18 04:41 pm
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[A pause, before he pats the space next to him.]
Sit.
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How sad. I would want to believe in a higher power- or at least hope for one.
[Hope for someone merciful, undeserving as he is.]
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[He turns to face him, now, glancing up and down his body.]
...Who hurt you?
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...If I could remember every instance, I'd tell you.
[But then it occurs to him that Lovecraft means that literally. Oh.]
I wouldn't worry about it. Seeing as I started our scuffle, I can't blame them for defending themselves.
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...Themselves?
[That earns Nishi a blink.]
Multiple...people? Why?
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[Dryly, Nishi laughs.]
Because I started it. Because I earned it. Because that's karma.
[He has a lifetime of mistakes to answer for, and he thought he had. In his second life he did everything right: hurt no one, gave freely, burned himself out to keep others warm. And for what? To end up here, in some rose-colored hell tugging at his frayed edges, threatening to pull him apart.
The thought is unbearable. Abruptly, he tips sideways, cheek pressing against Lovecraft's bony shoulder, his weight thrown carelessly there.]
If it bothers you so, then treat me well. Make me happy.
[A tall order. Impossible, really, but he's in just the mood for senseless demands, piling more on Lovecraft's shoulders than anyone should bear. So it goes. Karma will punish him for it later.]
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[John, though, John had liked him regardless. Shared his feelings even though he painted on a smile. He hated himself. He hated his position. And Lovecraft couldn't do a thing. They were in their own similar cages.]
...I don't know if I can.
[But even so...there is something to their previous agreement, even if it was heated and spelled out in the midst of swallowed breaths and running water. Nishi said he would give him everything he wanted. More freedom. And he agreed to it, placed himself in his hands.]
[Tit for tat. Perhaps this is colored by his concern for John, forever eating himself on the inside.]
[His hand moves up and around to stroke through the other's hair, gently.]
I do not care for...karma. I can do...what I can.
[A pause, his voice a little quiet.]
Your hair is golden like the fields. It's nice.
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And maybe he'll only drag Lovecraft down by leaning on him for comfort, but Nishi so seldom does. He's told himself he doesn't need it — hardly knew it — so it's uncomfortable and frightening when it should be soothing. It hurts to accept this, his body stiffening briefly under Lovecraft's touch despite demanding it, because he can't take what he doesn't deserve.
His eyes sting, vaguely. Probably the alcohol, or so he'd claim, but he simply shuts his eyes and ignores it, losing himself in the image brought to mind by Lovecraft's words.]
I feel like... I've heard that before, but it's not so uncommon, is it? Blond hair. It's nothing special.
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[Just like him, he's not used to touch. Not used to others in his life. They're both solitary creatures, aren't they?]
[Nishi may shine bright like a star, but inside is a darkness that drags him down to the deep.]
[Lovecraft has always been down in the deep for as long as he can remember. He's never been bothered by it. It's simply a fact. The sky is blue. He belongs there.]
[That is his home.]
[And now, a person like this is there, too.]
I'm used to...dark things. So you are a sight for...these eyes of mine.
[He cups the side of Nishi's head, keeping him where he is.]
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Maybe he gave up too soon, or he's too afraid, or the answer is far simpler than he can accept. Regardless, he feels the depths are where he belongs, drowned in a melancholy that seems to follow him across lifetimes.
Lovecraft, however, sees him differently: a blazing sun, a comet streaking across the night sky, someone worthy of admiration and trust. Nishi doesn't disbelieve him, he just finds it hard to perceive what Lovecraft does, blinded by the mask he wears rather than the man beneath.
He won't admit to needing comfort, yet he'll lean in closer, finding Lovecraft's touch unexpectedly warm.]
Perspective is a strange thing. On the surface, I might look friendly, warm, capable. In reality... I think you'll find we're far more alike than you realize.
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[There's a brief movement of Lovecraft's mouth of that. The semblance of a a smile. A rare thing on such a usually dour face. Nishi says that like its some monumental statement, some grand reveal. Hilarious. He doesn't laugh, but maybe he should, here.]
...Isn't that why...you asked for me to work with you...in the first place?
[He tucks his hand underneath the other's jaw, presses it upwards a little, just so he can look down with his oddly purple eyes. The same dark purple as the rose that Nishi pressed between in his teeth in the form of petals, tearing it away.]
[The abyss also can stare back.]
Didn't you see...yourself?
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The abyss, it turns out, is beautiful.]
...Ah. You've caught me in a contradiction.
[The truth he's overlooked his entire life: those who see past the mask choose to trust the man beneath it. His facade has never fooled everyone— never could.]
Well. Of course I asked you to work with me. You're capable. Stronger than you realize.
[For once, words fail him. Lovecraft is right, and Nishi has nothing to refute it with— but he can at least let his expression twist petulant, sulky as though that might cover the warmth in his chest.]
We can be both the same and different.
[Not even slightly convincing.]
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[He isn't. Even he has that amount of self awareness. He's not made for being outside, interacting with others, getting deals, or doing most general things in life without feeling exhausted or anxious about it. All he has is his ability. Nishi didn't even see that, yet he's so confident...]
[He exhales a little huff of a sigh, thumb pressed against the other's chin.]
[He hasn't blinked for a minute.]
We can both be the same and different. [He repeats after him, monotone. Makes no logical sense. But maybe on some irrational level it does. The petulance is cute - there's a little pinch to his eyebrows that seems so innocent compared to how Lovecraft knows the man can be.] I didn't mean it...in a bad way. There must be some...comfort in that.
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Comfort, hm...
[It's almost foreign on his tongue, that word. He's offered his comfort to others readily, though it doesn't always land, and Nishi's way of caring for others often reads as harsh. Maybe they have that in common, too. Lovecraft may not radiate warmth and compassion — just the opposite — but there is so much more to him than appearances would suggest. Nishi does feel some degree of comfort, thanks to him.]
...I think there is. Though I'm not accustomed to admitting it.
[He leans the barest bit further into the touch, as though testing how long it will stay.]
You're a good man, Lovecraft. I don't hand out words like that carelessly.
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[Nishi also laughs like a little bell, he thinks. His thumb moves up, carresses his lower lip, wondering if he could hear such a thing again.]
...I'm not.
[A good man, really. He is selfish and petty and tired and anxious and too afraid of everyone else constantly. And he has blood on his hands. He is not good.]
[....Maybe he's not a man, either, though he isn't sure this is the time or place to express that fear that burrows in his chest.
[Lovecraft sighs a little, not pulling away.]
You see things I cannot see. [Like there's a part open to Nishi alone. No, John must have seen it, too, to have this much faith in him. To call him a friend.] But I will...also admit. You can also...offer comfort.
[He wouldn't just sit here like this with just anyone. He, like a cat, must feel safe, first.]
[What a notion. Does Nishi make him feel safe?]
....Your laugh is soft.
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Nishi tips his head to one side, curious. Almost disbelieving.]
You've heard my laugh on a couple of occasions now. The first time was not so pretty...
[An almost manic sound as he pulled the rose from Lovecraft's chest. The laugh of someone unwell on some deep, intrinsic level.]
...Or would you disagree?
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I would...disagree. It was pretty, too.
[He can't even explain why. But it feel like it fit. Like he was familiar with it. It sat under his skin, made his nerves buzz in a way that felt like it added to the heat of pleasure. Lovecraft hums, dipping his head closer, forehead against forehead.]
[He doesn't remember laughing at all. Joy and mirth feel like foreign words that don't belong in his dictionary.]
[Perhaps laughing is an altogether human thing.]
...Nishi. May I ask you...something?
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Hm? What is it?
[He'll answer Lovecraft's question, so long as he can.]
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[And then him, who feels like every word out of his mouth is spoken through water.]
If I wasn't...human. Would that make...any difference...to you?
[Would you be afraid?]
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So Nishi's answer comes without delay, his hand seeking Lovecraft's leg to hold fast to it, assure him.]
Not one bit. Should it make any difference to me?
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[Well, shouldn't it? Perhaps he's simply biased - he, who is constantly worried and afraid and thinking the worst out of everything. Wouldn't the logical thing any regular person would do when faced with a monster is run and hide? He's never understood why people are scared around him, but if what he thinks is true, then...]
[That would make sense.]
[But Nishi, of course, makes no sense. And accepts it as easily as anything.]
[He doesn't know what to say, gaze glancing to the side self-consciously, before they land back on Nishi's eyes. The hand feels like an anchor. It is reassuring.]
I still don't know what...who I am, but I...wanted to know. How you would feel if that was the case.
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[Like his guiding principals. His personal values. Some things are intrinsic, part of the weave of someone's soul.]
What separates a monster from a man, in most eyes, is nothing more than perception. When people refuse to question those perceptions, they make poor judges of character. It sounds as if you've met too many of those types.
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[Was everyone just a poor judge of character, then?]
[Was everyone wrong about him?]
[He closes his eyes - their faces are so close. As if he could sleep here, and keep him close. For warmth, perhaps.]
Have you met those types too...? Nishi.
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...Yeah, I think I probably did. At least, I convinced myself that I did.
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[He shifts, now, deciding something. He pulls away, but he's tugging the man after him, guiding him to rest his head in his lap if he follows. Here, he can have full access to that lovely soft hair, see his face in full.]
It shouldn't. Concern you. I think.
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