[ i already regret sasuke and senri ]

[usogi]

i hate that jan made us a shitpost so i already have one to use

two

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[moralmyopia]

So you wouldn't forget.

[About them. About him. About everything. But... he hadn't known, hadn't realized, of course, because he's an idiot, that it would hurt Senri.] I should have just... left everything alone. [His hand squeezes Senri's, gently commanding.] Stop crying, blockhead. [There's no heat to any of the words.]

I have to help Ishikirimaru. He can't be alone doing this. I have to go. I promised him I would go. We'll watch the second floor. You two will be fine.

[He turns back just a little. Two fingers jab softly into the middle of Senri's forehead once he raises his other hand.] Tomorrow. [It's as close to a promise he can give without promises.]

Oda, Mouri, and Connor... Help them. Sean... If something happens, tell him I'm sorry. He... [There's a smile only Sean can bring to his face, but it's very weak and very brief.] I hope you... get to see his real face, too.

[usogi]

[ . . . .

he's quiet for so long. he listens to what sasuke says, and he hears it as a responsibility. he understands what sasuke had been feeling, suddenly, when senri asked for his thumbprint. when he was making all these plans just in case something happened to him. he feels the intense need to deny any of it happening, the need to tell sasuke that nothing will happen because he won't let it, but.

it's thursday.

it's thursday, and sasuke is leaving soon, and suddenly there is not very much that senri can do at all.

all he can do is wait, and believe.

so he just watches him, even as his heart stutters in his chest trying to contain everything that he wants to say.]

... tomorrow.

[he latches onto the word, and repeats it with a hope that he refuses to let die.]

Tomorrow, I'm going to thank you again. And I'm going to wait for you to come back. And we'll have another whole week for me to be mad at you, and to thank you for everything you've done for me.

[moralmyopia]

[A rattling, but soft, shaky exhale slips out of him. The quivering emotions are still there below the surface, adrenaline, stealing his hunger and his energy, giving him false reserves when he's running on fumes.]

The only option for my escape is to die then.

[It's a joke, even delivered dryly, but he knows he shouldn't joke that way, not with Senri whose eyes are still watery. Gently, he tries to get his hand back, his face apologetic.]