[Pain is nothing new to Eiri at this point in his life. His body is a map of scars, some old, some more recent, telling the story of his harsh circumstances as his flesh was torn open time and time again. And yet no matter how hard others had tried to destroy his physical body, this small and human vessel, his spirit had never been broken, even if it had been bared through the holes of his wounds. But this time...
This time...
He was able to take the beatings and the mocking. Eiri is so stubborn that such treatment doesn't break him down, but rather makes him more resistant to others' demands. And the Northern Union did demand, but he had just smiled with busted lips and laughed in their faces.
But that had been easy. And even when they grew tired of his fiery attitude, they focused on his right hand - his slightly more dominant gun hand - and bent a finger, one at a time, back and back and back until each cracked. But even amid his screams and and involuntary tears, Eiri didn't fall apart.
Except the longer he was kept there, in a dark and wet holding cell, cut off from the sunlight and fresh air and, most importantly, Haku, and the more his body started to exhaust itself, Eiri grew so tired of trying to hold out.
That last day, before they even started interrogations, Eiri quietly, hoarsely - his voice had basically given out - said they might as well take the closest thing to his confessions and stuck out his tongue for their taking.
(And if they did take it, then he wouldn't be able to speak and would thus give him one more level of defense when it came to keeping silent.)
But before they could do anything, alarms started to go off and the sound of gunfire echoed in a nearby hallway. They left Eiri there to join the fight and as he fell to the floor, he though for sure he heard a familiar voice yelling orders.
Haku...you came for me...
And Eiri's eyes fell closed.
He doesn't know how long the darkness lasts after that. It could have been hours, it could have been days. Eiri isn't even really sure he's conscious as such thoughts wander through his head. Time doesn't make sense. Darkness doesn't make sense. He can't even feel his own body.
But unless he was beaten so badly that his hearing got ruined, he can tell that it's suddenly quiet. And slowly a warmth seeps into his bones and the sensation of being enveloped by a softness starts to spread.
He doesn't dare open his eyes, however, for fear of this being a fever dream or some mental guard against his situation. If he can cling to the fantasy of being somewhere safe, then he'll hold onto it for as long as possible. It's so exhausting being defiant. He's so tired of fighting. Just let him rest.
Though he doesn't really realize he's doing it, Eiri starts to curl up against Haku, his ruined hand a jagged mess held close to his chest.]
no subject
This time...
He was able to take the beatings and the mocking. Eiri is so stubborn that such treatment doesn't break him down, but rather makes him more resistant to others' demands. And the Northern Union did demand, but he had just smiled with busted lips and laughed in their faces.
But that had been easy. And even when they grew tired of his fiery attitude, they focused on his right hand - his slightly more dominant gun hand - and bent a finger, one at a time, back and back and back until each cracked. But even amid his screams and and involuntary tears, Eiri didn't fall apart.
Except the longer he was kept there, in a dark and wet holding cell, cut off from the sunlight and fresh air and, most importantly, Haku, and the more his body started to exhaust itself, Eiri grew so tired of trying to hold out.
That last day, before they even started interrogations, Eiri quietly, hoarsely - his voice had basically given out - said they might as well take the closest thing to his confessions and stuck out his tongue for their taking.
(And if they did take it, then he wouldn't be able to speak and would thus give him one more level of defense when it came to keeping silent.)
But before they could do anything, alarms started to go off and the sound of gunfire echoed in a nearby hallway. They left Eiri there to join the fight and as he fell to the floor, he though for sure he heard a familiar voice yelling orders.
Haku...you came for me...
And Eiri's eyes fell closed.
He doesn't know how long the darkness lasts after that. It could have been hours, it could have been days. Eiri isn't even really sure he's conscious as such thoughts wander through his head. Time doesn't make sense. Darkness doesn't make sense. He can't even feel his own body.
But unless he was beaten so badly that his hearing got ruined, he can tell that it's suddenly quiet. And slowly a warmth seeps into his bones and the sensation of being enveloped by a softness starts to spread.
He doesn't dare open his eyes, however, for fear of this being a fever dream or some mental guard against his situation. If he can cling to the fantasy of being somewhere safe, then he'll hold onto it for as long as possible. It's so exhausting being defiant. He's so tired of fighting. Just let him rest.
Though he doesn't really realize he's doing it, Eiri starts to curl up against Haku, his ruined hand a jagged mess held close to his chest.]