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WHO: Eichi & Anyone
WHAT: Time for some old nasty tea
WHEN: Some time in July
WHERE: In front of a weird claire's-like store he has been sleeping in
WARNINGS: None!

Would you like to try some tea?

[No matter who happens to be passing by the overly-pink and purple store, Eichi calls out to them with a calm soft voice, smiling as he gestures to a counter he's transformed into a makeshift tea bar. It appears to be a central area that certainly used to be where the cashiers stood, but now Eichi is sitting at one of the old, hardly kept together stools, an assortment of chipped and peeled and faded mugs or cups lining the counter. There's a stand of what probably used to hold random pens and accessories that's now holding a handful of packets and tins of... tea? Their markings are difficult to comprehend, not just from the passing of time and whatever happened here, but from how much of a knockoff this tea place really was. Whatever Eichi has managed to heat up with a pile of debris and an actual tea pot smells like something faintly herbal... though it's difficult to place how.]

I managed to find some in the back of a store, but I couldn't make sense of any of the labels, so I'm afraid the exact blend is a mystery to me.

[The store around him looks even more chaotic. There's a mattress shoved surprisingly neatly into one side of the store towards the back, lined to one side with raggedy stuffed animals. There's a life-sized doll of a certain Wataru Hibiki that some might have met in person on top of the mattress and tucked into the scrounged up ripped sheets and blankets making the "bed," surprisingly clean compared to the rest of the items. The shelves are lined with folded scrounged up clothing (one or two outfits worth), and a few items. To the opposite side of the store is a coffin, neatly pushed up against the wall and left closed.

On top of the weird scenery, this tea is so old and such a knock off that it's going to taste bland and disgusting, though, and Eichi seems aware of it enough to have not taken a sip at all of his own cup.]

Unfortunately, there seems to be a lack of extra stools or chairs here. I hope you don't mind.

---

(ooc: I just have this open prompt, but I'll probably use this as a catch-all as well! I'll put my hauntings threads in the comments. Hit me up if you want something personalized.)

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[ Needless to say, it's not what he expected.

For a moment, the only change is that his grip around Eichi grows looser, where he's close to dropping him. There's pain, but he doesn't necessarily feel it, presumably out of shock. It's... not possible that something's just fallen on him. He can't excuse it away with something like that—for some reason, Eichi's stabbed him. ]

Eichi—

[ The stab was one thing, but the cut is almost worse. It allows the larger injury to open up and seep blood down the back of his neck and tears at his skin. The pain is searing and Wataru is certain that few things in his life have hurt so bad.

...but there were a few things that have. One of the things happens to be in his arms still. Isn't it ironic? Eichi has been the cause of worse pain than this already. It's kind of a memory he doesn't consider much nowadays, but it turns his expression from blank surprise to... painfully amused.

The hand at Eichi's face is snapping up quickly, aiming to grab the wrist holding the... shard? It must be one of the pieces laying around. He's trying to keep eye contact while he does it, though. ]

...I see.

[ What Eichi's saying is what one would consider the opposite of what he's doing. He has to try to remember that. ]

[The irony isn't lost on Eichi. His wrist is grabbed, but it struggles painfully against him to try and force the bloody shard back down. He's never felt so grateful for being frail.

He wonders what Wataru might be thinking past that quiet "I see" but it pains him even more than the physical feeling of forcing past his skin did. His heart sinks, and the memories of Wataru calling them family feel like a stab to his own chest. His vision goes a little blurry, as tears are the only thing that can fully express what he's really feeling right now. His mouth keeps opening, but he seems to be struggling to speak.

But physically, he has near no control left. His other hand moves, tries to grab for Wataru's throat, and as Eichi glances away in a panic, he still can make direct eye contact with himself in the mirror, even if that him is smiling far too proudly.]

Wataru... [His name can come through, at least, and he struggles for another moment before coming up with more.] Do you recall Hamlet? How about Ophelia?

[Of course he does. And it's a bit of a stretch, trying to get him to think about what he's trying to say here, but if there's anything, it must be a play. Right? What's real versus what's fake, whether he's attacking or a victim, what's causing this madness— the fact that it is something of a madness, out of his control— any of it would do.

"I see" isn't enough. He's hurting, desperate to make sure Wataru knows. I swore I'd never hurt you again.]

[ He can probably catch the edges of Wataru's hand with the shard, but it's just small scratches at best from this angle. For now. He still has to move him, and if he's intent on hurting him more, well. He'll deal with that in a moment.

The mark on his neck isn't something he can ignore, but he has to. Eichi's talking Hamlet to him and... there are many themes in Hamlet, and even Ophelia has shared traits and tropes that he could try to apply to the situation to make sense. ]

Asking me such a thing... [ Losing a mind. His? Eichi's? That's the closest thing to a puzzle piece he can fit in right here. He pauses, and when he continues, his voice is soft and bordering on fond, despite what he actually says. ] If you really wanted to hurt me, aren't there better ways to do it? Isn't this quite messy? You, of all people, should know where my real weak points are.

[ Maybe that's meant to be comforting. Maybe it's because he was just stabbed and doesn't really know how to feel about it. It hurts, physically and... even though he knows there's an underlying message here, it hurts even to think about.

But it's time to go. Out of here, around more weapons. It's unfortunate that he can't be as gentle as he'd like to, but Wataru is now taking a step back, pulling Eichi with him. By now, blood has started to roll down the front of his neck, under his collar. ]

Being stabbed in the back... it's not a situation that I would normally dislike, but were we not having fun before?

[ Talking. Talking helps. Even if it's nonsense. ]

...

[ How painful. Wataru is the one who’s bleeding, but Eichi feels like he’s the one who’s been stabbed. Just like before, by his own hand, he’s caused pain for everyone. Even as he’s pulled, his body fights it in every way that he can. Yanking, pushing, squeezing, stabbing— he’s got tears in his eyes, struggling to rush and think through the plays, through what he could use, but the wrong message is being grasped here!! ]

I am not Hamlet. Though it may seem so, to you especially... Is Hamlet mad? Are these answers given so simply? Just looking at you now, I feel as though I’ll sooner turn to Ophelia and fall into the water.

[ God this is so hard, he can’t even communicate normally, so this isn’t far off what he does anyway but there’s added pressure? His foot swings out to try to knock over another mirror, and the further they get towards the entrance, the more violent he grows, more desperate to stay inside than hurt him after a point. ]

You taught me that “family” could have a pleasant and warm meaning. [ He coughs, his reflection forcing him to push himself more than he would normally. He’s really thrashing to get away... ]

I'd much rather you didn't, Eichi.

[ Hmm... it really is a little frustrating, only having Shakespeare thrown back at him... why does that feel so familiar, hm?

It must look ridiculous, Wataru taking careful, pained steps backwards while dragging someone who's doing a lot of kicking and very little screaming—he supposes that's a hint, really.

But he believes him. Really, as afraid as he is of being abandoned, Wataru imagines Eichi wouldn't do it quite like this. It would be far more showy, probably. That small realization has him pausing, watching him. ]

Applying the word 'family' to a bond like that means it's quite important to someone. In that sense, because I did that, I wish for those feelings to be present at all times. [ Now he's about to hurt himself, too, but he's told Eichi the "funny story" so it should be fine, right. ] If I taught you such a thing, then it was my parents that taught me that a family member is someone you would like to hold onto forever.

[ Pointedly, he's trying to grab Eichi's other hand now. ]

...Even if I never expected you to hold on, and even wished that for your own sake, you’d walk away, despite my selfishness... You snuggled up close, didn’t you?

[ Eichi tries to keep this hand away, but he can’t dodge it for long, and as he’s grasped he gasps slightly at the pain from his other hand, the one bleeding. Mixing with Wataru’s blood. ]

They are present... even now. [ His stupid gauge has been beeping so long that it times out and stops, and his next attempt is pulling his entire body back, trying to retreat— somewhere in the back of his mind, he’s making note of how capable Wataru is of pulling him along. Please, he’s so close, he’s doing so well... ]

No matter what. Do you understand?

[ His eyes are burning, his palm stings, his whole body aches and every pump of his heart throbs painfully. But none of that must be close to the pain of Wataru’s deep cut. All of them, physical or not. Eichi still struggles to understand how they can be looked past.

But maybe he doesn’t have to understand. ]

Family... doesn’t hurt each other, right?

[ ...Wataru thinks he gets it. Or at least, the gist of it. Does he know why Eichi can't just say whatever it is that he wants to say? No. But it doesn't matter for now. The pain is in neck is sharp and spreading, though at the same time it feels itchy and strange—for a stab wound, that is. But there's no time to look, even if there's enough mirrors for it.

He'll have to assume that he's got limited time—his spine was close to where he got him, maybe that's the cause?—and doubly so, considering Eichi's condition. Not only is he trying to harm Wataru, he's hurting himself at the same time. ]

...of course I understand. [ Do words help? It doesn't seem like it. The only hint he has is the mirrors, and breaking all of them would... not work. There's too many, he'd have to let go (absolutely not happening) and that would take too long. ] Ah, Eichi, this is quite the predicament. You'll forgive me for treating you so roughly later, won't you?

[ He doesn't feel confident that he can safely knock him out, and dragging him is too slow. At this rate, Eichi will end up hurting himself worse than he's hurt Wataru, and that is...

No. Not thinking about that. He has an idea, but it's a pretty terrible one, even Wataru thinks so. He takes a breath, and then sharply yanks Eichi close, against his chest. He stretches his arms out so that he can get close to his face, his voice dropping to something hardly any louder than a whisper. He wants to comfort him, to tell him to relax and that it's alright, he gets it now, and appreciates the theatre lingo in order to make it work—but he doesn't want to give him too much information just yet, either. ]

I must be cruel only to be kind; [ He's so close now that any sudden movements would have him bumping their foreheads. ] thus bad begins, and worse remains behind.

[ Well, it's Eichi's fault that he's talking in Hamlet now, but that's the only warning he gives before abruptly ruining the romantic moment by trying to throw Eichi over his shoulder entirely. It means he has to let go of their bloodied hand and Eichi's free to resume stabbing at his back if he goes up, but in Wataru's defense, it's now much easier to move him. ]

[This is... He doesn't know what to expect, at first. He's pulled close, and his mind is at a complete stop, breath held, eyes wider than usual, focusing on Wataru's motions and his words. He stares at Wataru's eyes as he speaks, desperate to make a connection there, to show that he's still Eichi, that his actions don't match.

But then he's lifted so suddenly, so smoothly, that he can't help but gasp, and he's still trying to register what's happening while his left hand grips the shard tighter and does stab at Wataru's back again. It's lower, this time, and doesn't pierce quite as deep.

Before it can slash across in a cut, though, Eichi shakes, resisting as much as he can. He understands, Wataru is handling him roughly in order to get them out of here. He's said something like this before already, but Wataru is someone who Eichi would allow to treat him as horribly as he wanted. It's only fair. It only makes sense.

He doesn't want to hurt him anymore. He's making strained noises of resistance, but that's the most he can muster, focusing all of his energy on trying to not stab Wataru. But the mirrors seem to work stronger the closer they get to the exit, and it doesn't completely stop him. He's hurting the both of them like this. More, little by little...]

[ They're off. Through the aisle they were in, out into the center and straight towards the entrance of the store. It's not more than forty feet, give or take, but during a crisis it feels like a mile away.

Each cut into his back only spurs him on, rather than slows him down. He can hear Eichi struggling, and he wants to stop and put him down, to tell him that it's fine, a body is just a vessel for what's inside, but he has to keep going.

Around the center table, stacked with small mirrors at various angles; even he can see that they're leaving a thin trail of blood along the floor now. Is it his? Probably. He's certain that some is form Eichi now, too—truly, they are together in this.

Then it's the counters, where the cashier would have stood once. For a second he regrets not grabbing that light again.

Finally, it's the main hallway of the mall; does he know if this is enough to fix whatever was done? He doesn't. The mirrors can still see them, though their reflections are small and pieced together across several of them now. ]

[ Shortly before they pass the entrance, Eichi forces his hand open enough that the shard clatters to the ground. He gasps out at the sting of it, and then has to fight not to claw at Wataru’s wounds. He has to work to tear his eyes away from the mirrors, but it doesn’t stop them from being in sight of them.

He’s not sure if leaving is enough either. So, eyes focused on the blood he’s created all over his idol’s back, he speaks again: ]

Back to our store.

[ He can say that much it seems. Don’t stop. ]

[ So it's... not the area? Or maybe the area is larger than he expected? Either way, he's turning back towards Cl*ires. By now, he's leaving bloodied footprints behind them... though by the time they get there, they've faded out and the bloodstains all over his back don't seem to be growing larger.

Finding a spot between an especially bedazzled shelf and wherever Eichi's bed ended up, that's where he's leaning over to put him down, and then just... ]

...Eichi? Are you alright now?

[The moment they were out of view of the mirrors, Eichi stopped straining. It means that once he's set down, he feels that he can reach out and grab at Wataru's shirt without worrying that he might flinch back. He hopes, anyway.

It still leaves blood on his shirt, and Eichi's expression is pained as he leans closer.]

How can you ask that of me when you're the one who was bleeding so much? I'm so sorry, Wataru, I never meant to hurt you. You'll have to let me see the wounds. There must be something to use around here as bandages...

[He's a little bit of a mess and right now he's not even trying to hide it, because Wataru? Is bleeding? Because of him? LITERALLY?]

[ There's no flinching, though he does mentally prepare himself for another sharp pain; it would have been fine, to be cut because he couldn't help himself, the issue would be that he'd still have no idea how to get his Eichi back after that.

But it... seems fine so far. He's talking normally, if a little too concerned for Wataru's taste—listen, he realizes he was just stabbed a bunch with broken glass, but... ]

Eichi. [ He's leaning in, sliding both of his arms around him. The hug is mostly meant to comfort Eichi, and yet he finds himself relaxing into it as if he needed it, too. ] Didn't I say? Hurting me like this is only superfluous; I could even be confident in saying that you didn't hurt me at all. Sticks and stones cannot hurt me.

[ Some of the wounds were pretty bad, namely the first one, but frankly he... doesn't care. It hurts, physically. It shocked him in a way that's indescribable to himself, mentally. But none of that matters in the wake of family doesn't hurt each other. ]

...

[ Eichi’s breathing is irregular, thanks to panic and the strain on his heart. He can’t stop thinking about the sensation of gripping that shard, of how hard he had to press and the motion like a pop that drove it past skin. ]

I may not have been myself there, but I was still the one who hurt you. You said it yourself, didn’t you? I saw that expression you made, while I couldn’t move at all.

[ Family doesn’t hurt each other... So why is someone that he hurt his family? He’s worried that no matter how much Wataru might reassure him, that he’s ruined something precious. He’s worried about a serious wound in a place like this. ]

I won’t rest easy until your wounds are treated.

...expressions can be so troublesome.

[ In order for him to take a look, Wataru will have to let go of him. He doesn't want to, though he does, slowly letting his hands drop into his lap. ]

If you cannot feel calm until then, so be it. [ He's turning around, showing him the shredded backside of his clothes. The newer cuts still look fresh, though they have all stopped bleeding, but the bad one, the one that bore down into his neck...

...it's not healed, but it does look a bit smaller than it should. Then again, neither of them were really looking at it, were they? But the cuts on his hand, they seem to be closing up already too—and hurt worse now than they did when he was scratching at him. ]

[ It’s horrible to see him like this, but he needs to. He caused this, and so just like before, he forces himself to face what he’s done and absorbs all of it. His own bloody fingers brush over torn cloth and skin and he expects to see a wound far worse than what it is.

He squints a little, shifting closer, much closer, fingers delicately moving away from it. And still... ]

Is this a trick of the eye, or something you’ve done...? I knew you were resilient, but are you actually superhuman?

[ His own hand is more fresh because he was gripping the shard the whole time. Even still, he hasn’t noticed that even that has begun to close up. Faster than Wataru’s, even... ]

Eh, to ask that when faced with my real blood... you must see something quite [ ...he won't say amazing here. ] surprising back there. Isn't this proof enough that I am as human as any other?

[ He starts to look, but it twists his neck a little, so he'll have to settle for taking Eichi's word for it. ]

Perhaps you just didn't do exactly what you thought you did.

[ As he says that, he's noticing his hand though... hm. Wasn't it bad enough that their blood was getting mixed together? Now it hardly looks more than a scratch. ]

The resistance of your skin was a horrible sensation.

[ He’d never stabbed something like that before. He knows it had to have been deeper, longer... His fingers brush under it again, and then he urges Wataru to turn back to him once more. This time, he initiates a hug. ]

I’m sorry. But I’m also relieved... that you were able to tear me away from that.

[ There is the tiniest shiver under his fingers. See? Human. ]

Oh, that... was it so bad? I've always wondered what it would be like to be stabbed, but I cannot say that I could have predicted the feeling. Still, perhaps I am just fragile there.

[ He sighs, dramaticized more than not, and is more than happy to just wrap his arms back around him. His own heartbeat has calmed considerably, but there's still the slightest skip to the pace that betrays him. ]

I'm not sure you'll want to hear it, but I wouldn't have been able to leave you in there. Especially not after saying such familial things to you.

[ Familial... he leans his head against his, and since he’s too afraid to move bloody fingers to that lovely hair, he grips at Wataru’s shirt where it’s not torn instead. ]

I wonder if it’s difficult for you to belief, but I’m no longer someone who would purposefully hurt you. I don’t want to hurt anyone like that.

Especially... family, I suppose, though the sound of it is still odd.

[ Because his family sucks...? But. ]

We should wash the wounds, even if they do seem to be healing quickly.

...Eichi—

[ He wants to say that he didn't really think he wanted to, but when you are presented with a scenario unfolding before your eyes, you still react to it. But he's not sure how to, and he's already moving on, so maybe... he shouldn't.

...no. ] Let me put it simply. It's not difficult to believe at all. Something unexpected happened, and it cracked my mind wide open... ideas and thoughts rushed to fill in those new crevices, throwing anything that seemed like it could make sense at the edges to make it stick together.

But nothing really could stick, as none of it made sense. Every idea or reason simply flowed on through, incapable of becoming the truth.

[ IS THIS REALLY SIMPLE?

Anyway, he's moving back now, because Eichi wants to see his back or something. ]

...because the truth was contradicting itself before me. I knew you would not hurt me, and yet that's what I was seeing. Eventually, one of those two truths triumphed over the other, did it not?

[ A very, very brief pause. Okay, continuing with the Hamlet theme: ]

Something is rotten in that store.

...Yes.

[Something is rotten in that store, is what he's responding to, his fingers moving up to the backs of Wataru's shoulders and plucking at the cloth there. Take this off, he wants it gone, is what he's saying, only becoming more insistent if Wataru doesn't act right away. There are tears, but it will be easier to see them across his back, won't they?

Even if, even in this short time, do they seem a bit smaller? Is it his imagination?]

However, the rot was found in every mirror, in the very eyes looking back at me... Perhaps that's what troubled me the most. I compared it to the past.

[He's turning to find something relatively clean that he thinks he could use. They might have to wander to the employee restroom here, too, but...]

And I saw that you did, as well. It's unavoidable, isn't it?

[ ... he's not sure how to say that he only could compare them because he knew what was happening was so wrong any more than he has, so for now... he just obeys, pulling his ridiculous mall shirt up and over his head.

It sticks in places where blood had started to cake to his skin. It's more like he has to peel it away, especially the parts closest to his neck. The skin underneath is bloodied and red, even though some of the cuts inflicted have already closed entirely.

By the time his shirt is off, it might even look like the bigger ones have healed more. ]

...so, what have you found? Is it as you expected?

[Let Eichi have his pity party, he throws it regardless of what everyone else thinks, from time to time. Nightmares and all... Well. It has gotten a bit better. At least he isn't absorbed by it, right now.

Currently, he's more concerned with seeing Wataru's back. Er, seeing the injuries on it, that is. Definitely not anything else.]

Some of these smaller cuts have closed completely... [One he remembers distinctly, in a view in the mirror. The feel of the scrape, how he was glad it hadn't gotten deeper. His fingers run over skin now, quiet.]

Even the large ones are improving by the second. This can't be natural, can it?

[ Look how smooth his skin looks and how soft it feels and suffer, Eichi. ]

Hmmm... I do recover from things quite easily, and it's quite hard to damage this body, but I am a normal human, after all.

[ And it still hurts, in a strange way. Not just the pain of infliction and injuries existing, but it's almost a burning sensation. But... somehow, Eichi's fingers tracing over his back feels refreshing. Calming. A little bit involuntarily, he releases a breath.

Gingerly, he tries turning his head to look over his shoulder. Not to look at his back, since he can't exactly see much of it, but because he wants to look at Eichi. ]

Let us see your hand, Eichi... ♪

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