More bedninjaing

[hinooo]

[You know the drill. XD]

Comments

[hinooo]

I nod immediately. "You were both there. We talked for a while, after we fought- after a fight," I say, vaguely aware that I probably shouldn't say too much. "The two of you, me, and F- another Rider."

I reach out to squeeze both shoulders again, briefly. "Shotarou-kun. Philip-kun. I know this must hurt."

1/2

[eightypercentandadevil]

//We lean into Eiji's hold on our shoulders. We can use all the support and grounding we can get, right now.//

"Shotarou..."//

//I squeeze Philip's hand tightly, then let go, crossing my hand further past the meridian of our body. Philip inhales hard, choking back a sound that might have been a whine of emotion wrung too tight.

//My hand comes to rest on the hilt of the Xtreme driver. I swallow hard. Eighty percent, I tell myself. Eighty percent of a man's job is being decisive.

//"You come find me, Philip," I tell him. "I don't care what it takes. No excuses. You-- you come find me."

Within, I wrap myself around Shotarou, pressing as close as I can manage. The fray of data around my edges is picking up speed. All this emotion, and the delay of time since the end of the battle - I wouldn't have long anyway.//

"Do you have the courage...to wait for this devil?" I ask him.//

//"Always."

//I close the driver.

2/2

[eightypercentandadevil]

I'm vaguely aware, after a while, that my head's resting on someone's knee. Hino-san's, it must be. I'm curled up on my side...on my left side, on the bed. I think I've been shaking a lot, because all the muscles in my body are burning with pain.

All I can hear is quiet. Silence. The W belt is clutched in my hand and I'm probably bruising my palm by gripping it too hard. Philip's Cyclone memory is clutched in my other hand.

It feels cold.

gah, boys :(

[hinooo]

Shotarou-kun does it.

The henshin fails, and I see something ripple away in green, with a trace of a face... Ah, Philip-kun, no...

I screw up my face in empathy, ready to ease poor Shotarou-kun with a gentle hug if he needs it, with tissues which have to be around here somewhere, with anything, except he basically falls apart, clutching the belt and one of those little memory sticks, and there's no way I can move.

I don't say anything, because there's nothing to say. I just keep stroking his shoulder, letting him know that he's not alone. Even if he's alone, now.