Day 66: Game Room (Fourth Shift)

[knightspirit]

The game room, huh... In normal, everyday life, it wouldn't have sounded too terrible, but as things were, it seemed like more of an annoyance. Games were fine, but priorities.... On the other hand, Kyousuke seemed to have hit a block in figuring out the clues to the the illness, and just thinking without getting anywhere wasn't very productive, either. At this point, it may have been best to push it aside and come back to it fresh. He had his reservations about it, especially since the end of the day was rapidly approaching, but... Frustration wasn't going to get him any closer.

He poked around what games were there with resignation, still half wondering what he was even doing and trying not feel guilty for needing a break. After a while he came across an electronic device marked "Game Boy Color" and picked it up out of curiosity. He'd heard of those before... If he was right, this thing was older than he was, by quite a bit. Flicking it on confirmed his suspicions; the sound and graphics from it spoke for themselves.

Shrugging, he took it a random seat, wincing at the pain in his ribs as he sat down. He guessed it wouldn't kill him to mess around with this thing for a little while.

[Lloyd!]

Comments

[purgatio]

Despite everything, despite the fact that Albedo was the older brother, and Albedo was the one who needed to take care of Nigredo, and that Nigredo was sick-- Despite all of that, Albedo leaned forward, head huddled beneath Nigredo's chin against his chest like a child requesting comfort. Like another time. Albedo's hands moved to grasp Nigredo's shirt front, and as before, he inhaled shakily, breathed in his brother. Swallowed warmth under his tongue.

"I'm so tired," he murmured. A thought in the night, a simple truth come to pass. And it was the first time, the past few days. Albedo had never been one for exhaustion, had never spoken any word of fatigue before this. It was a claim to mortality, to weakness of the like that he had never shown. And above all, it reiterated the strain on his mental state, the pure and simple truth that something was fading.

But still, he breathed, and on his intake, Nigredo's scent was strong, familiar--still sugar and decay in his mouth. This touched on reassuring. He breathed, and held to this sibling.

Like there was something permanent in the moment. Like there was something breaking in time. Like there was comfort, when perhaps there wasn't. Thought would break in a moment, like minds in the night, reform into nothing, but for now, Albedo took relief in the thoughtless silence; quieted in the peaceful ripples of a action long since realized.

Stilled within the only sanctuary left to him.

[atrabilis]

Arms reached easily, wrapping around to hold another in a firm embrace, and Nigredo--fever, sickness, and all--murmured concerns beneath his breath. He found a kind of premonition afforded to parents and lovers alike, where the consequences of his beloved seemed as clear as his surroundings. As damning as the implications. And even as things were, Nigredo would not allow them to fall into place.

He was never the passive witness to a brother's suffering.

"You are tired," came the agreement, quiet and without heat. "You've done more for me than anyone." You've accepted me. And that was all he needed. Albedo was correct. Correct but--

Nigredo lowered his eyes, his line of sight filling with white. There would be parts and pieces to sort, but for now, what was in front of him was fine. "Trust me to live," he pleaded. "I will never betray you."