dissonates | [Action]

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[Since a certain someone's arrival, Asch has been kind of cranky and not particularly social, which has suited him just fine, besides having to endure appearing more pathetically lonely than usual. It's not like he really cares what other people think of him anyway (usually). Apparently there's some kind of party going on today, which makes him want to go out even less, so he's content to stay inside and keep out of the way. Parties? Not his thing.

But apparently some people have other ideas.

Eventually he will escape the party (greatly relieved to be away from it, whether he enjoyed himself at all or not), and will instead hang around outside the building trying to gather what's left of his dignity before he heads home. He just wants an uneventful walk in the dark (because it's always dark for him) and a long night's rest.

And apparently he's not allowed to do that, either.

Only when he makes it home does he finally take steps towards contacting a certain scientist who can get his body back to normal. Four months is long enough to be fumbling around in the dark without his replica nearby.]

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[Right... Guy had been around for that, too. Asch pauses again, suddenly uncomfortable- if he agrees, then it means Guy could assume that his dissonance and degradation is more public knowledge than he'd care to allow. But if he corrects him, the real death could eventually come out.

This... would be so much easier if he'd never-

That's not his fault. Stubbornly, he squashes his rebellious thoughts and finally goes for a vague answer.]

What does it matter? Dead is dead.

Kind of matters.

[Guy knows he's not being as assertive as he usually is, and it's because of the guilt. Not because they broke up; no, that was necessary. Probably. But the way he'd treated Asch, and then returning to a world where he's dead, and then coming back here and remembering-

It was like being in mourning after the fact. Which is also weird when he's looking at the person he's mourning in the face.]

Is that something else I'm not supposed to know?

[Asch's eyes narrow at that, and not for the first time he hates that he can't see Guy's expression. His voice is telling, sure, but it's never enough for him.]

Why does it matter? You weren't even here, you had nothing to do with it!

[He didn't, but he did. He did it. And yet-

He just-

It hurts. It hurts, and his shoulder is aching, and he can feel the blade in his shoulder and he knows that it's all in his mind, just a phantom pain and an old memory and his arm is fine, there's no wound and no blood. Just memories. Memories and hate and blood feathers flying through the air, green eyes filling with horror, an emotionless face just watching him die.

You weren't here. You weren't here and I died because it was him and he wasn't you.

And he's not sure if he's telling himself this because it's true, or if it's because he desperately wants to believe that the Guy who'd done so much to make him feel worthwhile could never kill him, curse slot or not.

But that's stupid. It's stupid because he'd tried to kill Luke when cursed like that, both times, and if Luke couldn't change that about him then what the hell chance did Asch have?]

[It's really the look on Asch's face that does it. It's the flinch, the way Asch stepped back and it wasn't just to regain his balance. It's the way his eyes can't focus on his face, the way Asch can't see his expression, can't see his hand and the way it's sitting on the hilt of his replacement katana with knuckles tight. It's the way Asch talks to him like they didn't spend hours together, didn't spend nights together, and it's the way that he remembers being home and feeling so damn alone even though he was surrounded with people. Somehow, he'd remembered Luceti, even when he didn't.

Maybe he wouldn't have been able to believe so hard in Luke's return without it.

So Guy takes a step forward, and keeps moving until he's close enough that he knows Asch will either back up or straighten and stand his ground.]

You know, I don't think I believe you. Because you and Luke both, you're being awfully secretive about something that has nothing to do with me. If it was a mission, or one of the third party, or some attack here in the village, I'd know by now. I would know.

[Sure, it's all of those things.

Most of all though, it's that look.]

[Asch doesn't want to move away, but his legs are moving back, unbidden, before he can stop them. Guy is closer now, and his breath quickens, tremulous in his chest and cold against his lips. He's shaken, he's angry, he's trying not to lose it completely, but there's just too much within him right now. He feels like he's going to explode. And how dare this Guy come back to him now, after leaving like that, abandoning them all, allowing that- that stranger to replace him. How dare he return now, after everything, and act like- he has a right to be here, like he should know what he's missed, like it would change a damn thing.

How dare he.

His hand clenches at his side again, shaking, before he lifts it, reaching out and taking a step forward. At first it might seem like he's going for an embrace - anyone that doesn't know him might assume that, with the way he's moving - but if his hand finds anything he's going to go straight for an iron grip on Guy's collar, fighting against the pain on his expression.]

Just- you should just- leave me alone. Go back to hating me, it was easier for both of us that way. Don't act like you care, don't check on me, don't...

[Don't be my friend.

Don't be someone I can trust.

Don't be someone who can betray me again.

His voice chokes, just a little, just enough. He stops, swallows hard. Tries again.]

Just... leave me alone.

[Asch makes a pretty good guess, but only gets one side of Guy's collar and ends up wrenching him a little to the side. Guy doesn't try to jerk away, doesn't move except to widen his stance, and stares down and Asch even though he knows he can't see it. Maybe he can feel it. Guy's staring hard enough.]

Tell me that like you mean it and I will.

[Maybe it's unhealthy. Maybe it's wrong. But this is what they've always been, this is what they are. Two opposing forces, clashing somewhere in the middle, pushing and pushing until the other gives way.]

...I- [And then he stops, because he's trying, he really is. He wants to say it. He wants to mean it with every fiber of his being. Guy is unhealthy. He's unhealthy. Everything about how they interact is wrong. There's love and hatred and longing and disdain and so much brokenness, more than anyone should bear. They've had awful lives and they rotate around a black hole of mutual wound-licking.

It was easier. So much easier with the other Guy, because that one hated him and nothing more. The simplicity of it was addictive. He could take his mind back to how things were before... this... and he could forget, even for a little while.

Why wouldn't he mean it? Why would he ever want this for himself? It's pathetic, the behaviour of someone without self-worth or self-respect or any of the fronts and bravado he'd built up over the course of his life. Fighting in the middle of the street, fists clenched so tightly they might bleed, chest aching, eyes burning, his head screaming end it, just end it now and get it over with.

He says he'll leave. He says he'll leave and it's what I want.

He opens his mouth. Closes it. Curses under his breath, lowering his head.

He can't. He can't do it.

I really am that pathetic, aren't I.

Asch releases a faint, almost guttural noise from deep in his throat, a simple exhale, nothing more. He slumps forward, the grip on Guy's collar loosening, until his forehead bumps against the blond's chest. He hates this. He hates everything about it.

I hate you.

I hate that I still feel like this.

I hate that I can't say what I need to say.

Don't leave me alone.]

[Guy doesn't hug him, not really. Doesn't think he should. Instead, he lowers his head until his chin rests atop of Asch's and screws his eyes shut. The hand on the hilt of his katana clenches it, and his free fist tightens before he opens it to settle it in Asch's hair just above his neck.]

Dunno what we're supposed to do now, but I can't just stop caring. Even if you tell me to.

[Guy can almost guess what's running through Asch's head, but he doesn't know how to say that he's no better off either, pretending not to care. If Asch had managed to tell him to go and mean it, maybe Guy could've kept that up for a few months. But he'd go crawling back, he knows it, because he can't just walk out on- on something like this. On Asch.

They might not ever be like what they were when they were happy, but Guy knows they're never again going to be like what they were when they weren't. He's not going to be like that again, not if he can help himself. Life's too easily taken for it.]

[Honestly, if Guy had tried to hug him, that probably would have been the end of it then and there. Even the hand in his hair is almost too much, but at the same time he needs it, so he endures it quietly, stewing in his own indecisiveness. Without his sight he's dependent on touch, and since he doesn't like being touched by the vast majority of the population, he's cut off from most of the world around him. This touch is familiar. An attempt at comfort, maybe, even if it might be futile. No, scratch that- it is futile, but Asch finds himself not wanting to pull away.

That's probably the biggest reason why he does, though, a moment later, stepping back and glancing aside, carefully composing himself. That didn't happen. That didn't mean anything. He's fine.]

If I can't get rid of you, then you may as well come in. It's getting colder at night and I want tea.

[Guy laughs softly, because that's what he does, and lets Asch go easily enough. Sure. He'll deny it too.]

Can I make it for you? As an apology for keeping you out.

[Asch shoots him a warning glance. It's easier to fall back into the position of servant and God-General without those pesky, emotionally-driven questions making his chest hurt.]

Only if it's for that and not because I can't see. I'm not helpless, I can take care of myself.

Oh, don't worry. It's definitely not for that.

[If there's one thing Guy's never done, it's pity Asch the Bloody.]

...Hn. [There's a moment of scoffing disbelief, but it passes, and Asch relents, turning towards the house and snapping his fingers. Star comes scampering back, climbing up his arm when he crouches and perching on his shoulder once more to direct him to the door. He leads them inside without bothering to glance back- he'll be able to hear the footsteps if Guy follows.

The house, obviously, isn't the same as the one Guy might remember; not just in shape, but the way it's sparsely decorated, sort of reminiscent of Daath, actually. The only colour to be found in the immediate vicinity is a handful of half-dead houseplants and the covers of the many books scattered on various surfaces in the first set of rooms.]

[Granted, it's probably more efficient to have a home free of knick-knacks to reduce hazards, but Asch's living space lacks so much personality Guy could have assumed Asch had just moved in a night ago.

He watches Star -waves, hey Star- give Asch directions and quirks his brows up. Good idea.]

Excuse me, [Guy says -because it's polite- before finding his way into the kitchen. Getting tea ready is more familiar ground, more comfortable ground, and the sounds of the kettle and water and cups helps break up the uncomfortable silence that's fallen between them.]

[Asch is briefly taken aback when Guy moves ahead into the kitchen, and for a while he just stands in the doorway, leaning against the frame, just listening quietly to the sounds of the blond at work. It's familiar, yes, but... uncomfortable, at the same time. Like Guy's just a servant again. Or an emotional tornado passing through. A bit of both, really.

He should close his eyes- he knows how eerie his vacant stare can be, he's seen it a few times when Luke's looked at him with the link open. But he can't really bring himself to care right now, either.

Speaking of Luke, though... maybe it's time to break the silence.]

The replica really didn't tell you anything?

He was being pretty secretive and shifty about it, so I told him it was all right not to say anything about what's happened since I was gone.

[Guy will find out eventually. There's enough people in Luceti who know things to give him a good idea, and even if they don't know he can pry the truth out of Luke eventually.

Guy takes a moment to look at Asch, really look and take him in. The stare is creepy, yeah, but everything else just...]

Your hair's longer than it was.

[Asch goes still at that, lips pursing uncomfortably, and he glances away, arms crossing his chest.]

It's not as if I can cut it like this.

[His tone is curt, somewhat defensive; it's such a little thing, but he doesn't like admitting that there are certain habits he can't follow anymore because of his condition.]

[Ah, that's right. Guy was always the one to cut it for Asch; Stella did it too, but she's gone. Luke- nope. Not happening. There are very few people Asch would trust to touch his hair, let alone hold two sharp blades near his head.]

I could cut it- [Guy clamps his mouth shut. It's just so automatic to offer.

He turns back to the tea. Shakes leaves into the strainer.]

[Asch's frown tightens, and he doesn't answer right away, letting his silence answer for him. Guy cut himself off, though, so he probably understands, anyway. He knows he should explain, but- he just-

No.

He looks down, keeping his empty eyes fixated on the floor instead.]

...Did he give you the Jewel?

The- my sword? [Guy blinks. So it'd stuck around, even after he'd gone? Weird.] No, I didn't even know he had it. It didn't disappear?

...No. It was still here when you left, both times. [Asch isn't sure whether to be annoyed or touched that Luke didn't hand it over. It's the sword that killed him, yes, but it's still Guy's family sword. No one has the right to keep it from him, especially not the son of Duke Fabre.]

That's strange.

Well, I'll ask him about it later. [Guy wants it, he really does, but he remembers Luke getting it back for him and him tossing it aside. Luceti- well. It has a way of clarifying things.

The kettle whistles shrilly and Guy plucks it from the burner, filling up the teapot and giving the leaves a minute to steep.] You still take it the same way?

Mm. [Asch shrugs his shoulders, noncommittal, though in his mind that's a good enough answer. Guy knows him well enough.

...God, that's such a strange thing to think, after so long, after the last half-year or so. Guy actually knowing him.

And now he can't decide whether or not he can handle it again.]

[Guy fixes Asch's tea and sets it on the table with an audible clink of cup and saucer. He realizes that he doesn't actually know how to move around someone who's blind, and resolves himself to find out.]

I don't want to keep you up. Should I be going?

[Asch pauses at those words, his body tensing a little. He's not used to the tone Guy is using, and he can't see the body language that goes along with it. And after the more recent interactions with the previous Guy, he's more inclined to assume the worst.]

...If you want to go, then go. No one's keeping you here.

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