tampered | (no subject)

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(no subject)

When; Tuesday, late in the evening
Rating; PG-13ish to R, they do tend to cuss some, and the topic is a touchy one
Characters; Setsuna Mudou and Yue Katou
Summary; Trigger Warning: There will be talk of, and insinuations of, self-mutilation. There are knives missing, and Setsuna liked them where they were. Time to find out where they've gone.
Log;
In the beginning, they had a lot of knives. Spoons and forks as well, but the knives were currently Setsuna's focus. He had bought plenty of silverware so he could put off washing dishes as long as possible, not caring much for the domestic duties, even though he preferred things neat enough to find things easily. Part of it was habit, too. His father's house had always been clean and tidy, so Setsuna clung to it, keeping up the apartment as best as he could with his attention span, patience and time.

At first he didn't notice. Then he thought it was just his imagination. However, once they were down to five knives he knew for sure they were vanishing. They weren't in the sink. They weren't out to dry. They weren't just hiding somewhere else in the drawers. They were gone.

He didn't even bother asking Alexiel and Kira, as the knives had only started disappearing after Katou showed up, but that didn't explain why Katou needed them. If he needed a weapon, or something, he could just ask them. Setsuna would get him a real pocket knife, or a sword! Something far better than those crappy knives he bought to cut meat with.

There were a lot of things he didn't get, or consider, before he went looking for Katou, calling out for him.

"Hey, Katou? You here?" Not that he could think of where else Katou might go.

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Katou hadn’t really given being caught much thought. Not just because somewhere deep down he was pretty sure that his days were numbered no matter what he did but because he was mostly so preoccupied with just staying focused, staying him that he hadn’t had the peace of mind to contemplate something as trivial as that. It seemed so childish in comparison to the problems already piling up on his plate.

Hence it’s being none the wiser than the blond looks up from the manga he’s been reading, sprawled out on his back on Kira’s bed with a straw connected to a carton of milk between his teeth (liquids have started to be the only thing he can keep down). “Ah—?” he calls out, instantly returning his eyes back to his comic. “Yeah, I’m in here!” The evidence of what exactly he has been doing with the knives is well hidden for now: his scars taped over with adhesive plasters and bits of bandage and covered by a pullover he’s borrowed from Kira. The knives themselves are stowed under the bed with his leather jacket. He’s been meaning to clean them and bring them back but it’s slipped his mind—like most things tend to do nowadays.

With the weather, the pullover didn't seem odd, though Setsuna frowned a little at seeing it. "The apartment not warm enough for you?" He thought he was keeping it at a decent temperature, but what if Katou was feverish or something? Would he get fevers if he was falling apart?

"You know what's happening to our knives? They only started to go missing after you got here," Setsuna got right to the point after worrying over the other concern.

"If you need 'em for something, you should've just let me know. I could buy you some better ones."

Uh oh. Katou freezes up before he can stop himself, fingers gripping the manga a little tighter than necessary. While Setsuna bitching about his choice of clothing didn’t bother him, this sure does. It just came so unexpectedly and he hasn’t had the chance to come up with a useable excuse yet. Hence he squirms as his brain races to make something up, trying at the same time to seem as nonchalant and pokerfaced as possible. He’s going to need to lie now and he’s going to need to lie good.

“How the hell should I know?” he spits, glaring up at you a little. You accusing him like that makes it easier to put on a believable act, since he knows that suuch a comment would definitely have rubbed him the wrong way if he hadn’t actually be the one responsible. “So if somethin’ disappears in his dump, the first thing y’do is ask the junkie? Real smooth, bro.” He finishes his milk, making a lot of noise about it and then squeezes the carton between his solid metal fingers, tossing it towards the waste paper basket. It hits the edge and bounces off. “Damn!” he hisses. “Can you get that?”

Setsuna is, by nature, the trusting sort to take people at their word more often than he should. But, at the same time, he sees through lies fairly well, even if he can be manipulated. He finds the whole thing fishy, especially in the beginning. There was too long of lull between Katou's response and the question. The way his knuckles turned white there for a moment.

"It's not like I'm accusing you of taking money or anything. Damn. You don't need all the attitude," Setsuna replied, giving a sigh. He hadn't wanted to lose his patience with Katou, not with the condition he was in, but sometimes it was too hard.

"No," answered Setsuna, plainly, not moving from the door frame. "Do it yourself."

“That’s just what you get when you ask annoyin’ questions,” he retorts, making sure to keep his eyes as far away from you as possible. Which is hard enough, considering he no longer has the attention span to actually read what’s in front of him and as a result has been staring at the same page for far too long than what would have been necessary. He’s losing it. “What the fuck would I want with your knives, anyway?”

At your refusal to pick up after him, Katou just shrugs. He can’t be bothered with getting out of bed right now so it’ll just have to wait. “Fine,” he mutters, “be that way.” He’ll make sure to clean it up before Kira gets home. For now he just wants you out of the room. “Don’t y’have, I don’t know, something to do? Can’t remember signin’ up to be your personal entertainment.” Like anyone said anything about that, Katou.

Any annoyance he might have had at Katou's attitude softens a bit when he realizes Katou hasn't turned a page in a while. It can't possibly take that long to read one of those those things.

"It's not an annoying question. It's an honest concern because we're starting to run low. I thought you might be taking them for protection, or something," Setsuna admitted. "And I thought I could just get you a better one."

He shrugs off the milk carton incident completely. He's not a maid, and Katou can get irritated about it all he wants, Setsuna's not playing servant to him.

"And right now, I've got nothing to do but find out why the knives are missing, and why you've been staring at the damn same page this entire conversation."

Okay, why the hell are you so observant today? This is not going according to plan at all. “Maybe because you won’t shut up,” Katou bites back, obviously on the defensive. Not only in his words—it’s written all over his face by now. While he isn’t exactly panicking about this since you were bond to figure out sooner or later, he just doesn’t want to have this discussion now. The thought of it alone makes him feel exhausted. You wouldn’t understand. You’d take it the wrong way. You’d blame yourself. And then he’s going to feel like an asshole and Kira’s going to bitch at him about not being careful enough and ending up upsetting you.

“Look,” he starts, trying a different technique, “I’m sort of tryin’ to chill here, okay? If you want company so badly, fine. But don’t come up with fucked up excuses just so y’get to waste my time.” Perhaps this would have been far more convincing if he still hadn’t given up on trying to keep from making eye contact with you. He’s long since given up on the manga and tossed it aside but the ceiling doesn’t make all that good a replacement.

"Katou...." Another sigh. This conversation - Katou's words to him - should be making Setsuna angry, he knows that. And yet, all he feels is an empty sort of sadness.

"There wasn't any reason for you to have lie about it. So if you are, then it's something I'm not gonna like, isn't it?" Setsuna finally asked, just cutting right to the matter. Not being looked at? Someone's having trouble with the fabrications. Not a good sign. None of this is a good sign. Katou used to be able to look straight at him and pop them off.

Setsuna presses against the door frame for just a bit, then finally pushes off of it to leave, but first he tells Katou, "Just wash them when you return them, okay?"

For now all he can rely on is his own endurance. It seems like you’re about to give up and if he can just get you to lay it aside, he can sneak out while you’re at work and put them back. Then no one will ever know. It was sloppy not to go out and buy himself his own equipment anyway but desperate times call for desperate measures and when you’re stumbling around the apartment trying to hold your guts down and keep your face fixed the idea of venturing out to find a drugstore is laughable at best.

He should have been more careful. He shouldn’t have lost Kira’s sword. If he still had Shiranui, all this would have been so much easier.

Picking up his manga again as it seems that you’re about to leave, Katou shrugs his shoulders. “Whatever, kid,” he mutters. He almost feels bad but this is something you wouldn’t be able to understand. And if you would you’d just fall apart and he doesn’t need any of that. It’s enough that he has to spend every waking moment wondering how much longer he can do this. How much longer he’s going to be able to exist. The evidence is everywhere—his entire body is riddled with it—yet it seems like he’ll get away with it this time.

He spent so long missing Katou before he showed up here. Setsuna had even clung to other people because they reminded him of Katou in small ways. And now, Setsuna can't deal with this much longer, either. Another day...they might not have another day.

So, instead of leaving, as even Setsuna thought he was going to do, he turns back around and flings himself at Katou, though he tries to be mindful of the fact Katou's falling apart and can't handle his weight, likely. He still goes for that impulsive hug, a need to feel him solid, just once more.

"I'm sorry.... I'm sorry I've been so useless about this. But I'm gonna fix it, I swear, Katou," Setsuna tells him, the knives being forgotten. Katou's lying, but what if he can't remember why he took them? They're not important anyway. It was never about the damn knives! Setsuna's not completely sure Katou got that part with how he acted.

That ... comes as a shock. Barely suppressing a groan as your body weight falls onto him and pins him to the bed, Katou feels his cuts stretch and sear as you upset the various bandages and plasters that have long since gotten permanently stuck there from the blood still leaking out of his wounds. Wincing, he drops the manga. “W—What the fuck, Mudou!” he yells but it’s more out of surprise than actual anger. For some reason the gesture makes him feel touched and he’s suddenly sorry that he is making this so hard for you. There’s simply no easier way around this. You’re better off not knowing. “A l’il fragile here.”

At your promise to fix him he goes soft and laughs, shaking his head. “Geez, quit carryin’ the whole damn world on your shoulders. You’ll make the rest of us look bad.”

His own voice is gentle, remorseful, as Setsuna tells him, "I'm sorry," and tries to shift his weight. He doesn't know what's happening under the pullover, but he does know Katou's not in the best shape, enough to realize he might have been rough even though he tried not to be.

At Katou's laughter, Setsuna pouts a bit.

"I'm not trying to make anyone look bad. There just might be a way, that's all," he admits, still ashamed he hasn't given it a shot yet.

Your pouting just encourages him to make fun of you, pinching both your cheeks and pulling them up and down as you talk, grinning all the way. However, once you broach the subject of actually being able to heal him, he freezes. A skeptical look forms on his face to replace his previous amusement and he gazes you straight in the eye for the first time. “What do you mean, there might be a way?” he says, his own turn for getting the whole truth out of you being up. You seem mysterious about it and if you’re planning something for his sake, it’s just a bad sign if you’re keeping the details away from him. He knows what an idiot you can be about these things sometimes.

“Like, you know a guy,” he ventures, eyes hardening, “or is this some fucked up suicide mission y’like t’throw yourself into again ‘cause I’ll fuckin’ kick your ass, Mudou, and y’better believe it’s true.”

He allows all of it, only rolling his eyes slightly, and rubbing the pinched areas once Katou's done. Setsuna doesn't speak at first, letting Katou get everything out, until his warning.

"It's not a suicide mission! I'd be fine," Setsuna insists, rolling his eyes yet again. "You're the one dying!" But he doesn't fully clarify. The risk of being talked out of it is too high, and Katou's life is worth so much more than that.

“I still don’t like it,” he retorts, crossing his arms. “When y’get all secretive like this it ain’t ever good news. Fuck, would it kill ya to talk to me?” Ironically, he can feel a little of the frustration you must have been dealing with just a while ago when you were grilling him about the knives, though he convinces himself that that was a completely different matter. You’re not the sacrifice. You’re not the one that can just be used up and thrown away. He’s long since accepted his role as that and you constantly trying to take that away from him when it was an active choice on his part to give away his life for yours is nothing short of an insult.

He sighs, knowing he won’t get anything out of you anyway. Damn stubborn kid! “You’re not gonna tell me anything, are ya?” He shakes his head, brow furrowing. “Listen, just … don’t do anything stupid, okay? I ain’t worth that.”

"Yeah, well I don't like watching you get worse, either," Setsuna says in return, getting just a bit more serious for a moment. Finally, he pulls away from the hug, and leaves the bed.

Katou gets a wave of dismissal from over Setsuna's shoulder.

"You are worth that. But I'm not gonna do anything stupid. I've been taking too long thinking this over to keep it from going wrong," he insists, as he starts to leave the room once more, feeling this is about as settled as it'll ever be.

So you already have a plan. Suddenly worried, Katou makes a grab for you as you slide off the bed but just misses you by inches and once that chance has passed it seems like there’s nothing more he can do. So he just watches you, paralyzed by words he cannot understand. What are you going to do, Setsuna?

“Setsu …” he tries but he no longer knows how to convince you. “Just … damn it, I’ll put the knives back, just—just don’t—” Don’t what? Damn it, he doesn’t even know that much. So he frowns, muttering almost to himself as you leave the room. “Or I’ll fuckin’ kill you.”

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