To Be Whole

[madimpossibledreamer]

migraines. suck. so much.
at least I wrote this yesterday.

(this, uh…this was not supposed to be a fix-it. it became a fix-it. maybe. it could be read as taishakuten deluding himself and be canon. which, y’know, pain. it’s supposed to be a hopeful ending though. these two deserve the happy ending.)

Main Points:
Onmyoji
Chapter Summary: Taishakuten gets hurt protecting Asura, who isn't too happy about this turn of events.
Word Count: 2462
Rating: teen
Warning: depression. drug use (Nectar), sanity mechanics, PTSD, survivor's guilt...
Spoilers: Lotus Crown event

 

         “You can’t continue to devalue yourself this way!”
         No rescue is coming, Taishakuten knows. The Wings may have learned to love their beloved hero on the battlefield, but the moment he raises his voice when off it, they scatter and flee. Under any other circumstance, the medics would be in here, scolding and kicking out the intruder, but even they cower from Asura’s wrath.
         To be fair, Taishakuten is not doing much better. His Spiritual Entity tells him that no matter how furious Asura sounds at the moment, his rage is worse. The Celestial is attempting to make himself as small as possible on his little cot, incapable of meeting the man’s eyes, because no matter how much it would break him if—when—Asura comes to truly hate him, he’s already broken. True, dying here would undo a number of plans, but how much worse would it be if his hero died here? Asura’s care almost hurts worse, because he doesn’t deserve it.
         He flinches as if slapped when gentle hands take his own. Some would see a contradiction there. No one says it out loud, anymore, not in his presence, but they don’t have to voice their thoughts out loud for him to hear them anyway, and most see Asura as a god of war, even the Wings. They know he can be kind, but to see him like this would startle them.  “Taishakuten, I could not bear to lose you, too. But even day to day—even day to day, hearing you make these little comments about how worthless you are…I thought, in the past, it was the Nectar talking, but it’s not, is it? You truly hate yourself.” And then—careful of the frail Celestial’s wounds, he pulls him into a hug. It’s all Taishakuten can do not to break down weeping.
         “I can’t see me the way you do.” The words slip out of him, unbidden. Asura’s always making him act in unexpected ways, it seems. They’re quiet, but Asura stiffens and pulls away, all the same.
         Oddly, he looks thoughtful. Not uncharacteristically so; Asura can be quite the philosopher when he’s calm, and all the anger seems to have melted away. It seems Taishakuten's words have made him think. “Can’t you?”
         “I’m afraid I don’t understand.” His voice breaks, on the verge of tears, but he powers through, because his hero deserves a conversation, not useless weeping.
         The small, sad smile is for him, and only for him, and greedy, he grasps at it, to hold it in his memory, like a foolish child would a treasure. “You and I, we are the same. I believed myself worthy of nothing but death, a blood-soaked monster dealing in carnage, and whether it was other’s blood or my own didn’t matter. I would never be clean, never wash away the sins. We were both waiting for death, and yet there was a spark at our meeting. I thought I could never have or deserve a normal life. You gave me that hope.”
         Joy, that he has managed to help his Asura even a little. But even then—how? How could such an insignificant person possibly serve such an important role?
         (Because that is your purpose—to serve him, to be a stepping stone—his mind reminds him.)
         “It hurt, though. Because no matter how your smile, your voice, your belief in me and the calm your Spiritual Entity brought to me, I could never do the same for you. Or so I thought.” He isn’t lying about the pain, either, despite how unreal it sounds. Losing him was the only thing Asura feared. “I was overlooking the obvious. Taishakuten, you can see yourself through my eyes. Please.”
         The Celestial begins shaking his head, tears in his eyes. He cannot—must not—he’d promised himself—
         “Rid me of this pain,” Asura pleads persuasively. “Being unable to help you makes my heart ache.”
         …yes. This is what he did, what his lotuses were for. Removing pain from others, taking them unto himself. He reaches out for Asura’s thoughts, but even a soldier dying on the battlefield had not welcomed him so eagerly, and he soon finds himself submerged, half-drowning in the rush of feelings. He had not been prepared.
         Asura was a passionate man, he had known that, but he hadn’t known the extent of it. He had thought Asura’s emotions showed themselves easily on his features, and they had, they had, but it wasn’t near enough to communicate the depth of those feelings. Asura felt everything deeply, to an extent Taishakuten had never experienced before in another’s mind, and everything he’d been holding so tightly, so well-controlled, spins out of his hands. His body is gasping for air, he feels it, and the strands of concern and determination float past him like lifelines—
         Please, Taishakuten.
         Yes. If he does not have the needed courage to continue, he can borrow it, for Asura has the reckless courage for them both. His hero would be the type to throw the both of them into the deepest ocean only to pull them both out again, alive, despite the impossibility of such an act.
         There! The anguish and despair that plagues the man. With a frenzy Taishakuten rushes forward, determined to uproot the emotions and leave them to wither—

blood memories pain a part played too well asura asura asura not the mara no—

         Distantly, he hears his voice cry out, sees himself start to thrash around. A rumble of panic appears and fades like an army as Asura quickly moves to restrain his body, stop him from hurting himself.
         What is this? What have you done? The need for illusions was over, his plan had worked; there was no need for—
         No, no no no, he’d failed. All his careful plans brought to ruin simply from one hero being too stubborn to fulfill his place. So why were they here, again?
         I wanted to see you again. Straightforward, as always, but the amusement that hums around him, buffering him from the rest, is entirely new. You’re not the only one who’s had to learn strategy.
         But—He’s more conscious, now, more rational. His body begins to sob wretchedly, and Asura carefully gathers him in close.
         If you could do it with your Spiritual Entity, I could learn to do so, too, since you gave me a piece for safekeeping.
         The memories begin to settle, to seep in, as he puts the pieces together and once more becomes whole. Was it as strange for Asura, interacting with the lotus’s illusions?
         Yes, though I was conscious for more than one, at the end.
         His mind feels clear, for once. He can feel Asura’s mental strength forming a barrier around his mind, protecting the Celestial’s own tenuous hold on sanity. Don’t stop now.
         Suddenly, Taishakuten feels so very not sure about continuing, but it’s something Asura has asked of him. He can’t turn back, especially not with the amused encouragement feeling like it’s giving him a little push. With trepidation, he takes one step—a small step, causing ripples, and is very nearly dragged under once more.
         His weeping grows louder, while his mind just stands frozen, stunned into silence, for that, there, is love. Asura loves him, deeply, unconditionally. Hastily, he calls up an illusion of himself, to confirm it, and what he sees is not a gangly, frail, useless being, a Celestial so utterly without worth that he can’t even complete the tasks he is suited for without resorting to the Nectar. He doesn’t see someone weak, or a coward. He doesn’t feel someone who should have died.
         He—no, Asura, because it’s Asura’s eyes and thoughts he’s seeing himself through now—Asura sees a graceful, majestic man, one who despite his own pain and failures remains determined to help the people. He sees how Asura loves his Spiritual Entity, longs to touch the lotuses. In his hero’s eyes, that quiet strength saved Asura, time and time again. The one person who had accepted him, loved him for who he was. Asura is bloodied, soiled, and Taishakuten is beautiful and unattainable, and yet—
         And yet, Taishakuten will talk philosophy with him, laugh and tease, so perhaps he’s not so unattainable after all. Perhaps he deserves what he’s always longed for, and perhaps Taishakuten can be there and never leave his side.
         Taishakuten had lived through this a thousand times, and eventually even the pain of the deaths of his soldiers had faded. He had become cold, unfeeling, because why do any more than make an outright show of feelings? They would be alive again soon enough. But through Asura’s eyes the heart of a man who would weep for even the smallest of pains of another begins to shyly unfold again, a lotus beginning to bloom.
         The longing catches him, and he reaches out, only for Asura to cut him off. That confusion, he’s fairly certain, is his own.
         Not until I know you’re making this choice of your own free will.
         Taishakuten snorts. A fairly feeble excuse, in his mind, but no matter. He’s had plenty of practice disentangling his own emotions from others, though he supposes none were as strong as Asura. It can wait until he’s at least in his own body again.
         Leaving is a much simpler matter than entering. With his memories and power intact, exiting the maelstrom of worry, calming rage, and related emotions doesn’t threaten to drown him this time.
         An onlooker would find the change abrupt, as Taishakuten promptly stops crying and sits upright, swaying a little as he does so. Apparently, while not an entirely difficult affair, this use of his Spiritual Entity was draining for him. He smiles gratefully at Asura, who holds out a hand to steady him.
         “You’ve always been difficult. Half of the agony waiting for you to wake up was trying to determine whether I’d gotten something wrong or whether you were just being too stubborn for your own good again.”
         Before, Asura’s words would have cut deep, though he would have smiled and said nothing. Now, though—now he knows the truth. He loves me.
         He takes in a sudden, deep breath, ignoring the fresh liquid gathering in his eyes. Asura looks slightly concerned, but Taishakuten quickly waves it off.
         “You love me,” he states quietly.
         He’s always been fairly private, adept at concealing his emotions, but he forces the honest, happy awe into his voice. This is an important crossroads, and it’s not as if he merely gets another cycle to rehearse his words.
         Asura’s proud smirk can’t hide the slight hesitance. (Now there’s an uncharacteristic emotion!) “I hope you saw enough to convince you that it was sincere and not misplaced.”
         “It might take some getting used to, but I think—” He lets out a breath, breathes back in. It feels like it’s the first breath he’s taken in a long time. “I think I could get used to the idea, though I might need a reminder, here and there.” He needs to bite his lips to keep himself from laughing at the sudden look of hope in his hero’s eyes. It’d be rude. He’d been trying to be subtle about it, but he sees the way the action draws Asura’s beautiful red eyes, and it makes him bold. “I have loved you from the first moment I saw you.”
         Asura blinks, raising a disbelieving eyebrow. “Drenched in blood?”
         This time, Taishakuten is too late to stop himself from the chuckle. He’s confused Asura, he can tell, but he sees the way the man lights up at his smile. “It might have escaped your notice, but I am not always a very nice person. Sometimes, I can be downright cruel.” He can’t tell, anymore, where his madness ends and Asura’s sanity begins. They will have time to work on that, though, to make themselves whole again.
         “I am the only one who knows you that well, I think,” Asura admits. He’s discomfited but hasn’t inched away, doesn’t condemn that part of Taishakuten any more than he has the rest of him. The weak parts of him. But then, he’d learned to turn weakness to strength, hadn’t he? Certainly the Deca had underestimated him, to their downfall. “But you are equally cruel and kind, and not just toward me.”
         It’s that which makes up the Celestial’s mind, and he leans in once more. “And you can be both, as well. Please be kind in this moment.”
         He gets one joyous moment to bask in Asura’s deep laughter before he’s silenced by the kiss. Taishakuten wants it to continue, the moment to never end, but he breaks away reluctantly. He feels a little smug satisfaction as Asura mindlessly follows him, briefly, before opening his eyes and pouting, honest-to-goodness pouting, in his direction.
         “You’re certainly being cruel now,” Asura states quietly, if fondly. He’s only half being serious.
         “My apologies, my dear Asura. I thought it best to check where we stood before continuing, as much as I don’t wish to stop either.” He laces his fingers through Asura’s before continuing. “From now on, we are one united force, and we will find a path to defy fate. We will do so as lovers and partners in all things. Am I correct?’
         “You’re the mind-reader. You know this already,” Asura grumbles.
         “Call it the equivalent to your question about my free will. I don’t want to make decisions for us both any longer.” It had been so lonely, and if there was truly another way, even a glimmer of hope, they could find it. Even if it took them another thousand loops.
         That’s enough to get his hero to take it seriously. “It’s all I’ve ever wanted.”
         “Then we’ll have to—” He’s interrupted by a yawn, his eyelids growing heavy, and he frowns as his body betrays him.
         Asura laughs freely and draws him into another embrace, this one far more comfortable than the last. “We forgot your injury. That’s all right; there will be enough time for strategizing in the future. Rest now.”
         Taishakuten’s peace is shattered by a sudden fear, and he clutches at Asura’s sleeves. “Don’t leave me,” he begs desperately. Don’t let this all have been a beautiful lie.
         Asura settles down beside him, solid and grounding. “This is…well, I was going to say reality, but it’s an illusion of my own making. But I’m real, and we will fight for the reality we deserve through a thousand lifetimes, if we have to. I will always fight to be by your side and save you, Taishakuten.”
         “And I you,” the Celestial promises, surrendering himself to the gentle, peaceful warmth of Asura’s touch.