( closed to @luck ) your turn to die: sou hiyori

[killed]

With varying vanities, from every part, they shift the moving toyshop of their heart.

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i'm already sick

[supporter]

[ Hiyori is a light sleeper at the best of times, but he seems to be especially restless tonight. He tends to be cool at night, holding another tight beneath the blankets to warm them both up, but normally he's successful enough at that. But he's never cold like this, a coolness that permeates his skin and sinks down to flesh and bone. It's too early for it to be this cold, but perhaps that can attributed to the sickly feeling that's overtaken him - he's heavy as lead, his body aches, and he'sas tired as if he hadn't slept for days despite being forced into fixing his sleep schedule some time ago.

His arms are empty. He mumbles and fidgets, and if not for the arm yanking out from under him he might have just dozed right back off in an effort to stave off whatever sickness is taking him. It does though, and he squirms and rolls over to get out from beneath it, rolling onto his stomach and wrapping his arms around a pillow so he can bury his face in it before turning his head to rest his cheek on it when prompted.

He's heard the sound of his voice on recordings enough to recognize it. That makes no sense here and now though, in what he knows must be his bedroom int he middle of the night, speaking words in a puzzled tone that he would never use for such language. It seems like the sort off odd question his husband would direct to him. Something is wrong. A lot seems wrong, in fact. ]

Mmn...? No, of course not...

[ He mumbles, and that seems wrong too... Seriously, what the fuck is going on? He wants to go back to bed, but there's no way he can now.

He blinks and groggily adds, ]

Komaeda-kun...?

NOT HIS ARM what did hiyori do to deserve this

[supporter]

[ The hand that touches him is warm, and he leans into that touch reflexively. Despite his best efforts, Hiyori isn't able to compensate for his low vitals through conventional methods. To cure him would be to fix the problem at the source, and that cannot be done on an unwilling patient.

It's odd to hear his name spoke in is own voice in such a questioning tone. It's not fitting at all for a person who's always so certain. Each breath feels slow and laborious, as though his soul were desperately trying to eek its way out of his body, and he finds that the mere act of existing is an altogether unpleasant affair. It's to be expected, of course, but it doesn't make it any easier to deal with.

Hiyori's no less agitated than Komaeda, but he doesn't have the luxury of giving into that panic when his charge is so prone to foolish and harmful whims. He focuses on drawing in one breath after another as he shifts himself up and into a sitting position. ]

Komaeda-kun... Shh, it's alright... It's alright...

[ Ah, how inconvenient... Familiar voices are in and of themselves soothing, but there's nothing comforting about having to see and listen to oneself for a person who has no love for their mind and body. That aside, it's unlikely that he can accept it as reality. How to handle this...

He leans over and reaches out of habit, trying to find a hand to take on his own, or otherwise an arm to place it upon. Calm, in control, everything that he should be despite the panic bubbling in his stomach. He swallows it down. ]

There's no need to rush off to act... I'm sure that this is an unpleasant awakening, but we can work through it together now, can't we? If you could just stay put for now...

[ But he's already trying to work up the willpower to move despite the jarring change in condition. ]

he just wants to see hiyori suffer

[supporter]

Komaeda-kun... It's me, Sou.

[ It's the person who's been with him all this time. His fingers curl uncertainly, and he glances down at his hand in the darkness of the room as he says that. It's not the first time that Komaeda has pulled away and so it shouldn't surprise him, but there's something that stings about that kind of visceral reaction to his touch while being able to do little about it. As he shifts he can feel how thin his fingers are, how gaunt and frail his body is now.

His mind goes blank when the light flashes on. He'd been able to make a safe guess at what had occurred, but seeing is believing, and it's disturbing to see the sight of his body standing up before him. Messy white hair falls in his face and obstructs his vision, and the fingers that brush him away are too thin to be his own. His palms press down on the mattress as he stares on with wide eyes.

Komaeda's eyes have always been empty and lifeless, worn down by a lifetime of suffering, but Hiyori is the opposite - bright and lively even at those times which they seem so vacant.

Don't panic. It's his job to remain calm, and so he remembers to swallow down his anxiety after a time. ]

It'll be alright, [ He repeats calmly, gently, as much for himself as for Komaeda before him, ] I'm here with you.

STOOPPP THEY BOTH WISH IT WASN'T HIYORI BUT IT IS

[supporter]

[ Hiyori adjusts his position in response to that demand, albeit not quite in the way ordered. He sits up straight, folding his hands in his lap. He's gotten too agitated, and now it'll be difficult to bring him down from it.

What a troublesome situation. He'd like to curl back under the covers and sleep until whatever it is has passed, but such a thing is never an option. ]

It's a frightening situation, is it not...? But I can assure you that I know who I am. Regardless of appearances, a person's essence always remains the same.

[ He hesitates to say a soul, as that doesn't seem quite right, but those core traits and factors that make them who they are. In that way, it's not surprising that the body is so often seen as nothing more than a vessel - it's just a house for the brain that controls it.

But now isn't the time for a philosophical debate either. ]

... Yes, you're certainly Komaeda-kun. There is no change nor trick that could hide you from me when I love you so much.

[ It is, perhaps, a bit much for someone who relies on talent and hope to guide him... Hm, perhaps what little he had was tethered to his body. ]

Then, how shall I prove who I am so that you need not continue to doubt?

[ Prim and proper as ever, but the elegant gestures and the measured, somewhat stiff manner of speech is ill fitting. He starts here for lack of better options, and perhaps he'll get lucky and be able to redirect his attention. ]

HOW IS THIS HIYORI'S FAULT?? HE DIDN'T WANT THIS!!!!!!!!

[supporter]

Ah, that's right... It would be troublesome if Komaeda-kun fell behind, wouldn't it? I've already caused you to miss so much...

[ There's an airy laugh, followed by a small cough, but he's charmed by the reminder. It's not quite the same, as there was no admiration behind it, but he had been far more dedicated than any of his peers at one time. Perfect grades, perfect attendance, a perfect student.

Though he supposes he'll be causing him to miss it regardless, appearances are what maters. Hiyori reaches up and smooths his hair down before tucking it behind his ears. Komaeda's hand is warm, and it has a weight that doesn't settle as nicely as it should... No, he's not a fan of looking at himself from the outside at all, and that's only natural - humans aren't meant to see themselves in such a way. It's why mirrors can be so unsettling. ]

Perhaps we're the victims of someone's science experiment gone wrong? Ah, how troublesome...

[ Scientists often do things for the sake of doing so, and in a world where the laws of physics often seem to be nothing more than suggestions it seems possible enough. Really, one would only need to find a way to switch memories around, and if drugs and other illicit methods were used then it's not unlikely that something of the such could be done.

...

If that's it, then he'll have to find them later so that he can invite him over for tea. ]

Then, promise me that you won't do anything hasty? I'm trusting Komaeda-kun to take care of "me."

[ Meaning, don't abuse his poor body. ]

STOP HE WANTS SOMEBODY TO GIVE HIM A HJ!!! IT'S PROBABLY SOMEBODY WHO HAS A GRUDGE TBH

[supporter]

[ Komaeda always takes care of Ultimates and so long as he can accept the reality of the situation, he will take care of Hiyori's body as well as any other part of him. There's more than enough cause for concern, as his idea of care can be quite unorthodox, but he's unlikely to do any irreparable damage.

Unfortunately, he's less inclined to take care of himself. It would be an interesting experience, he thinks, to be able to hurt "yourself." It's even better, he thinks, when it's from such a position of power that's always seemed so far away. ]

No, that won't be necessary -

[ He flinches when his wrist is grabbed, all too aware of the fact that the other can pull and drag and harm him as he pleases. Hiyori has always been likewise aware, but his practice means that he's used to applying just the right amount of pressure to avoid undue harm. There's concern on his face as he slides to the bed and then off of it as much out of fear of being dragged off of it as to not have to crane his head back so far to look up at him. ]

I've never wished to see harm come to Komaeda-kun... You've bright light to my life just by being a part of it. Have I given you some reason to think otherwise?

[ He already knows that he hasn't, as he insists the same every day. Nagito Komaeda is the light of his life, a dim shine that he wishes to nurture more than any other, and one whom he should make every effort to avoid seeing harm come to at all costs. Those arguments are ones that tend to be readily rejected, and so he's already racking his brain for alternatives. His legs feel unstable beneath him when compared to his normal state of being, though he knows well enough to attribute it to acclimating to this new physique, along with his own nerves. ]

STOOPPPPP HE DIDN'T ASK FOR ANY OF THIS

[supporter]

[ It's nice being on the other side, isn't it? For those who have been abused, who have lived with unpleasant circumstances, there's nothing more delectable than being able to find a way to transfer that harm to another. But it can't simply be harm for the sake of harm, as there's no satisfaction to be found in walking up to somebody and kicking them... Something more personal is needed in order to vent those frustrations that build up over the time. Something justifiable, something far crueler.

It's the way one creates a truly terrible bully. It only takes beating someone savagely, pounding them into the ground and killing all their hope, and no matter how long the experience lasts the effects will be with them for a lifetime. No matter how long they live, they'll always believe themselves to be a victim of others. That's what it reminds him of, but there's no way to say it without agitating the situation further.

But how nice it must be for him to be on the other side after so long.

A sharp gasp comes out instead as nails dig into his wrist instead, and that feeble effort to pull away is familiar to him. He's had to deal with Komaeda struggling time and time again, but it's always been to keep him from hopping out a window or taking a knife to himself. He swallows down the growing panic that comes with being trapped and promised harm as best he can to avoid hyperventilating. ]

K-Komaeda-kun...

[ Hiyori's eyes flick up and down, his body trembling. It's difficult to shake him, and even at those times which he is there's a certain air about him where he can maintain control, because Hiyori trusts himself enough. But this body isn't his, and these circumstances aren't that which he can understand, and he struggles to maintain his normal composure. ]

Stop... There's no need for that! I don't want it!

[ He tries pulling again before reminding himself not to panic once more. ]

You're going to put me back in the hospital.

[ If not the grave, but he'd rather not encourage that. But he knows, because Komaeda so often wound up in his office after these little fits. ]

NOT HE'S HAPPY I HATE THAT

[supporter]

[ He would sooner trust himself to a back alley doctor to chop his hand off with a meat cleaver and call it a cure than that miserable, pathetic, crackbrained bitch. They would at least have a fraction of self awareness and tact, perhaps even a few braincells to rub together, and an infinitely better personality.

It's better for both of them that he stay away from her. He can't stand those in his field who don't meet his standards. They should just drop dead, choke on their own worthlessness and vile existence... Ah, it makes his blood boil just to think about such a useless creature daring to dress themselves up as a medical professional.

He would correct that mistake if he could only get his hands on her.

Those thoughts shine ever more clearly through the pain that follows his struggles and leads to worse ones, and he thinks that he will correct that mistake at the first opportunity. Those who are unprofessional, who gain status and love despite being nothing but parasites on society need to be dealt with quickly. They need to be removed before they can suck the blood out of the world and permanently damage it. Someone as stupid as that will only utilize their talent (or lack therefore of) to harm the world tht he loves so much.

It's because of the blinding pain that he can focus on that, a grounding agent and a place to direct the malice that comes with it. It's a perfect reminder off how little that worthless place learned... Ah, and after everything he did for them.

Those are the thoughts that cut through the sharp pain, and the scream that follows it, tears forming in the corners of his eyes as he tries to process the sudden bout of pain that briefly distracts from the other discomforts of this body. He takes in gulping breaths that don't seem to reach into his lungs, and that calm that had kept him steady breaks into a series of violent coughs and wheezes as he struggles to collect himself. It fees as though he might pass out, and he nearly does, but after a time he's able to collect himself.

That expression pisses him off too.

He scrubs his face with the back of his hand once he's a little more stable, and he manages to inspect his wrist and pop it back into place. That's painful too, and he sniffles before reaching over to grab his phone, unlocking it and punching in a number, pressing it to his ear as he walks into the bathroom and slams the door behind him, locking it with a click. ]

Michi-chan? Ah, Emi-chan too... Good, that saves me from having to explain it twice. Sou speaking... I seem to have a bit of a situation.

I'M GLAD HE ENJOYS HIYORI'S SUFFERING SO MUCH me too komaeda

[supporter]

[ When he was younger Hiyori would practice smiling. He would sit in front of the mirror for minutes that stretched into hours as he practiced after watching and researching, acting and pretending, until he finally found that he had perfected it.. It's something that's required of a medical professional, and if one can't even do that then they should find a new day job. It's what's required off perfection. But of course there were plenty of times when he didn't want to, when he felt pressured and upset, that which he needed to in order to offer reassurance to others.

So he practiced, and practiced, and practiced, and now his smile always reaches his eyes, eyes that glimmer and shine with mirth or sympathy or regret as appropriate.

He practices now too as he looks at his own tired expression in the mirror. It's easier now, and by the time his phone call is over he's already perfected it. The call is quick and to the point, citing medical issues and explaining that he requires assistance. The teenager in the other room was never taught how to listen, and so he can only ensure that neither is neglected.

He brushes his teeth first and his hair next, pulling the latter back into a ponytail, securing it with a hair tie, and those dark thoughts brought on by sickness and the pain of every slight movement are hidden behind a warm expression. He lets it drop as pain makes him suck in another breath, but he keeps himself moving. It's out the bathroom he goes, slipping out of nightwear and into a too casual outfit. No jacket, but he procures a wool scarf from his drawer - different from his normal one. He's cold.

It's been a long time since he was last in that place. He wonders if anything has changed at all, if perhaps there's something that he had missed. It makes him anxious, like going back to a life that he hates. But remiss as he is to admit it, it's because of their strict expectations and tendency to smear into his mind and etch onto his skin who he was and what he could be too that he was able to become the wonderful adult that he is today.

Why they can't seem to do that for any of the of these other miserable brats is a mystery to him. ]

stooppp he got a nat 20 he's going to get there fine and just gas it

[supporter]

[ There's none who would wish to be Komaeda, but plenty would envy him now for being able to be a man who has everything from fame and fortune to appearances and love, though his life has gotten a fair bit more annoying since the internet picked up its petty arguments about whether or not he's an Ultimate. He really should settle that debate one of those days, but there's always so much to do, and whether or not it's verified the goal should be met. He wants to see it if anyone can find it, the records of that time. He would like to meet that person if so. It would be interesting.

Alas, kids these days just don't have that curiosity. They lack the drive and methods of thinking that leave one to learn what to loo for and why. They're all content to be slotted into talent and talentless, restricting themselves to worthless talents - fortune teller? Doujin writer? Heir ? What kind of idiotic non-talents are those? It's because of people like that the world is full of trash. It grows from rotten roots and produces decaying plants which choke out all the beauty around them.

But He sits on the sofa's armrest and fixes into place a smile, one which is warm and kind and that none would mistake for anything but genuine, an unbreakable lock that he hides his feelings behind. His wrist is red and black, aching and bruised, wrapped up tight with bandages that are tinged with red from where crescent moon shaped tears were left, and there's a coppery taste that lingers in his mouth. He feigns ignorance of these problems as watches his body be used in such a graceless way and makes no effort to touch or even come near the other in turn. ]

Yes, I'm certain that I will.

[ There's an uncomfortable feeling a deep down in the pit off his stomach, a bubbling anxiety that accompanies the idea of returning to that place as a student once more. It's like jumping back into the Hell that he had crawled out of. But he had been better than them even then, capturing their pieces and sweeping them off the chessboard, and so why should he be afraid now that he's the wonderful adult they wished him to be?

He wonders if they have the materials he needs to recreate his most recent little experiment there. He'll have to make calls if not. ]

I love you too... Ah, Harai-san and Namida-san will assist you if you run into any trouble. Satou-san will as well, but you must mind your manners around him. You may do as you please so long as it won't do major damage, and I expect you not to let any harm come to "me." If you do, I'll be upset.

[ That's not a word he uses often. But Hiyori doesn't care much for being hurt nor having his words ignored, and he cares even less for being scared. It's something that simply can't be allowed, and that feeling will long outlast the pain that he'd felt.

He's upset now. ]

SIGH THE WAY HE GOTTA CODDLE HIM

[supporter]

[ Komaeda has gotten too good at noticing when he's upset for his liking. It's not something that's meant to be seen and he takes care to avoid others doing so. It's a consequence of spending too much time with someone. They start to learn your little quirks and habits, what upsets you and what makes you happy and all of those things that he keeps hidden behind a personable face. It's why he keeps others at an arms length and reveals nothing while tricking htem into believing they're privy to carefully guarded secrets.

But in return he knows that Komaeda neither feels guilt nor worry about doing such injury. The expression on his face and the easy way he had ignored him, perhaps while hoping to do worse damage, makes his stomach churn. But there's no need to be unnecessarily cruel to him, especially not when he seems to be trying to hide away in himself. For someone who hates themselves it's easy to tear apart their own flesh, and for one who wishes to be nothing it's nerve wracking to be of such vital importance.

Hiyori's presence has always been commanding. If he so chose, he could build up that same presence in this body simply by carrying himself with such confidence while wearing a disarming smile and speaking in such a smooth and practiced manner. Alas, Nagito Komaeda withers in the spotlight, and he wouldn't cause him such trouble. They'll expect more and more of him if he does too much. This requires a light touch.

But he does hope that none of them are too rude. The surgeon is already in a foul mood, and he's never had much tolerance for those who treat those in his care poorly. Still, that's for later, and he lets out a small sigh and shakes his head with a smile and a quiet reassurance that he's not upset, then he looks over the map. Hiyori knows his routine well enough from taking such efforts to get to know him, and he chuckles a little at the dog. ]

We should go together... I'm afraid that I won't be able to enjoy them now, but I believe saving them for later should suffice... Ah, but you should try some while you're able to. I can tell you which will be to your liking.

[ He might be unwelcome, but it's unlikely that they'll kick up a fuss about the issue when that would only draw more attention to the matter. It would be the same as acknowledging his existence at a time that which he can't afford to do so.

Komaeda won't want to feel his touch now, repulsed by his body as he is, and that too makes him hesitant to act. But the warmth of him leaning against him is enough to encourage him, and so he'll lean up to give him a soft kiss. ]

You can tell me about your day then.

SIGHHH THE OUTLET FOR HIS LEFTOVER FRUSTRATION bc komaeda's too cute to stay mad at

[supporter]

[ It's odd experience at best to kiss himself. He's no Narcissus and he should never stand there for having fallen in love with his own reflection. He's confident enough in it, but at the end of the day his appearance is kept up for others rather than himself. He finds this to be fine so long as it's another that he's kissing rather than his own reflection in the mirror. There's a hint of disappointment when he stops short of kissing him, but he settles for wrapping his arms around Komaeda and nestling into his grip to soak up the warmth that he provides. ]

Ah, but I'm all too happy to have been given the opportunity to share them with you.

[ He can't force it though. Maybe it would just make things more disappointing when he were to go back to his own body, but he still finds it a touch disappointing. He supposes he'll have to adjust to the palate given to him as well though, favoring crunchy and firmer foods, salty and spicy or otherwise simply bland enough to be inoffensive, and it's a bit difficult to imagine for one who never properly built up their tolerance to large amounts of either.

It hurts to be pushed, his wrist aches from bending as he holds him, and it's difficult to breath with the added weight. It's habitual for him to act like this though, as Hiyori has always been too aware of how frail he is and acted accordingly. That gentle touch is one that was built by years of practice.

It really is difficult using another person's body. His fingers don't move as deftly as they should, and he can feel a budding headache coming on. He supposes it's the dehydration in this case, probably the bout of stress too. He reaches up his hand to stroke his hair in the same gentle motion that he always uses. It's a hand that's too cold, the fingers too thin, but the movement and gentle touch must be familiar to him. ]

Not at all... Rather, I'm happy to hear such words of love from you each and every time.

[ His words come out a little breathy as he continues using a voice that's not his own, but words which could be offered by no other, ]

We can, and we can stop if needed... [ If he needs to is what he means. ] I love you always, Komaeda-kun, and I wish to be with you always, no matter what form you may take.