wildkotetsu | 14 • Working Ethic • [Voice/Action]

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14 • Working Ethic • [Voice/Action]

[Kotetsu's essentially been away for the last week and a half (two weeks? he couldn't remember when they started) working a mission, because it's one of the few things that successfully keeps his attention away from the sad downhill roll his life'd been on. Things had been a little easier with time after Bunny had died, but then came the draft, trying to kill people, unable to save friends, citizens, himself—and then Pao-Lin went home, to top it off. Bottom line, it hasn't been easy. Kotetsu's naturally unfocused when it comes to anything but his job, so when he returns to the Luceti battered and bruised but mostly okay, he's confused.]

I'm back...

Oi, did something happen while I was out? There're—

[waaait

wait a sec]

Christmas. [He slaps his forehead, making a loud, annoying sigh, same ol' same ol'.] Aaaargh, I forgot! How'd I go and forget something as easy as Christmas? —Did I, uh. Miss anything? I mean, I guess maybe it's a little late to get everyone something, huh? But if you guys are okay with that... [keep busy, he thinks. keep busy] If anyone needs anything done for 'em, lemme' know. I can help get firewood or clear out snow, or whatever you'd need done.

[Cue scrambling for gifts. Let it be known, if he knows you he'll show up somewhere and give you something. It'll be small, probably something you'll hardly care for or use, but whatever. It's the very late thought that counts. And he hurries back to the restaurant and hey everyone sorry for being missing 75% of the time I had combat training stuff to do. Washing dishes, delivering things; he knows it's been hard goings around here. Admittedly, Kotetsu's been airheaded for a while now—no, no, not the usual airheaded-ness. Something considerably more worrisome and depressing. Well, it's fine. We all go through our moments, right? Yeah.

Still, he's not sure why he ends up standing in the middle of where Bunny had died many months ago, in broad daylight. Can't really even see it, technically, it's all under snow. Not that there'd be any reminders of it now...]

It's not like you're dead; I dunno' why, but I considered bringing flowers... You'd really have hated me for something like that, huh? Because you're not dead. Everyone says you go home and you can't really die here for real. I just... y'know. Christmas makes me think of you. [A shrug] Makes me think of everyone at home, I guess... but especially you. It was Christmas time when I was last there. When we fought and all that... I know it's not a good holiday for you, but I always hoped maybe you'd find something good in it someday. I don't know.

[After a long, lost pause, he shakes his head, rapping his knuckle on his forehead in frustration.]

Pao-lin's gone, too. I never even got to make it up to her. I know I failed her like I did the others here, back when they needed me most. And like I failed with you. I'm trying to make up for it—this thing Crapbeard's doing... It's what you'd do, right? You'd hop right to it, huh, Bunny?

[rubs at his eyes, scoffing-]

... You'll be okay, back home... I don't know why I'm talkin' to you like this.

[Kotetsu only talks to Tomoe like this. It's cruel to act like this is a grave site, because it's not; he's alive, he's fine.

Voice watery, he continues—]

Na... Merry Christmas, Bunny.... Sorry I'm taking so long to say it to your face. But I'll keep doing the best I can.

[Alright, enough of this, or Barnaby really will break through time and space to kick you. He shoves his hands into his coat pockets and starts off quickly, not letting his gaze linger for another moment on that spot.]

((ooc: basically a catch-all for kotetsu! he's been gone for a bit, but now I'm ready to drag him back into the fray; lemme know what your character's up to and I can have kotetsu pop in, if you're not too sure where to place 'em in his post! any even slightly positive CR will probably get some little gift. o7))

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[He flusters despite his every wish not to, and the incredulous look he manages to give Sanji is one that feebly asks why wouldn't you. For a moment, with the needling splinters of wood clutched tight between his fingers, he's not sure how to reply. He's never really been good at giving the right replies to questions.

'Change the subject. Pretend everything's better now.'

But he can't bring himself to rekindle enough energy to smile and fake anything. His shoulders just sag and his frown deepens.

... He hates himself.]

I wish you would.

Too fuckin' bad. [Yet he sounds almost angry, suddenly. He turns and shoots Kotetsu a bitter frown]

I don't see you getting on my ass for killing my own nakama.

[He flinches back again, quiet.

Angry's good. Some kind of cosmic punishment for being such a failure would be good. And Sanji deserves this--because why is he bitching, when the other had had to kill his own friend? Yeah, good job, Kotetsu. Good job. Was his partnership with Bunny just a fluke? Was he always this pathetic?

They were all right. There's a reason he was at the bottom of the chain--they were right to throw him in with Barnaby as some sidekick. It hangs on his lips.

What would Tomoe have said to a thought like that? What would Kaede or Bunny have said? What would the heroes think of him right now, seeing him fuck up thing after thing.... They'd probably get tired of him eventually. And then he'd get so bitter, just like before, and it'd spiral into something weak, dragging to a crawl. And here he is, using Sanji's experience to hammer himself down deep into the ground. On the inside, it's like he's curled up into a tight ball, waiting for everything to readjust and fix itself.

His voice cracks, wetted but reserved from sheer will at this point--]

You didn't have a choice... It's what your friend would have wanted.

It wasn't your fault.

And you didn't ask to get turned into--! [Shit, calm down, Sanji. He loosens his jaw before his teeth splinter into pieces, and takes a deep breath.]

Nami-san isn't angry at you, either. [It doesn't matter that he's never discussed the issue at length with her; he knows this for a fact. Hell, she probably was more pissed at hi--

No, stop that. Breathe. Don't go down that path.]

You're the one who didn't have a choice.

I had a choice. I could've--

[No. That's never the answer and you know it.

This whole thing is foolish. He feels like a kid crying about his spilled candy.]

I don't--

[There's a scoffing sort of laugh, hauntingly echoing Sanji's earlier one, if only a little shakier, less controlled. He looks at anything but the chef, inevitably trailing his gaze down as he drops the shattered remnants of wood and blood. This isn't how he's supposed to be--and it's not how things are supposed to ever be, not for anyone.]

--I don't know what's wrong with me...

[He wants to run away; he's wanted to run away since the moment Sanji prodded and poked at his brain.]

Edited 2013-01-05 04:36 (UTC)

[Sanji knows what's wrong; he's been there, in the state Kotetsu's now chained to, and it hurts standing here and watching someone else go through the same misery - the needy desire to find validation, someone willing enough to hate you, because you can't forgive yourself for being as human as everyone else. He wonders if this is how Robin felt, watching him shatter into pieces on the kitchen floor, wanting to help but afraid of damaging him further. Like handling glass that's already broken, pieces missing, and you don't know how to begin putting them back together.

The chef's fists curl again, this time from frustration. Damn it, this isn't fair. Kotetsu's a grade A idiot and pisses him off most of the time, always getting in the way or being an nosy little bastard, but if there's anyone who doesn't deserve all this shitty weight on his shoulders...

Sanji takes a step forward - hesitant at first, but eventually with more purpose until he's standing in front of him, wearing a determined expression. And don't worry, he'll get to scolding the older man for his damaged hand. For now, however, it's a small footnote at the end of his thoughts.]

... Oi. [Another second of waiting, an uncomfortable beat of silence, and then Sanji steels himself over a deep breath. Then wraps his arms around Kotetsu's shoulders, just like the other did for him, back when it felt like their lives were beginning to fall apart.]

Don't, alright? ... Hate yourself like this, I mean. [His muttering is quiet and a little awkward to boot. Gods, he's no good with physical affection like this, not with most men. He has to lean on his own bullheaded empathy to keep him steady.

But if it can help, even a tiny bit...]

There's a reason no one's angry at you, idiot - you don't deserve it.

[What are you talking about?

He should definitely hate himself like this.

He deserves this.]

[Pao-Lin and Barnaby and Tomoe and Nami--innocent citizens he's hurt or killed, people he's watched die--

Everyone he's promised he'd keep safe...

He deserves this...]

[I deserve this.]

[........]

[After a long pause, he suddenly clamps his arms around Sanji let he's about to fall, or maybe like Sanji's the only friend he's got in the world--which is stupid, because he's got plenty of friends here. Good friends. Hell, even people he really barely knew. He'd do anything for them.

But for some reason, it felt like this was the only sanctuary he had right now. Maybe because Sanji would kick him hard if he didn't give in. Would call him an idiot. Would drag his ass somewhere and make sure he figured his problems out.

Would do anything but hate or blame him.

You're a good kid.

You're a good kid.

He's really quiet for a living person to be, but then he feels his eyes burning and he lifts his face away from Sanji's shoulder, from his possible stare, looking up at the ceiling glossy-eyed and raw and utterly defeated.

Damn kid used his own tricks against him.]

... I don't want to give up.

--don't let me do that.

[Barnaby gave him a reason to keep moving forward. Kaede and the heroes gave him a reason. But they're gone and he's not what he should be, and--is he still clinging to Sanji like he's a handrail separating him from a long fall?

Yeah. He is.]

[At first, Sanji thinks he's made the wrong choice when the other does nothing but stand still as a grave, as if it's beyond him to accept a simple hug. And maybe it is; he still needs time to find himself in his grief. Rejection might slump his shoulders, but the chef can understand where it comes from this time, without bitterness, and prepares to pull back. It's okay. He can give the other space, too.

But then Kotetsu suddenly clamps his arms around him, leans forward, and Sanji staggers a little from his own surprise and the added weight. He's not hugging the older man for that brief second.

He's holding him up, making sure he doesn't fall.]

... 'M not gonna. [A soft little thump, and his forehead finds itself on Kotetsu's shoulder. The tense energy drains down his legs, and he relaxes back into the hug.] Like you gotta ask for something like that.

We're friends, aren't we? [No, more than that now. Family. Nakama.]

Just depend on me for a while. Shit'll get better.

[He nods, swallowing hard and trying to keep his emotions at bay, even if he's already got an escapee tear finding its way down his face.

Okay... So he wasn't all back together, however... the big tear in his chest feels more closed up than it had moments before. For that, he's grateful. Got a ways to go, but--he smiles (a real one, even if it's a little sad, it's a real one) and puts a hand on the crown of Sanji's head, mussing the blond hair business as usual.]

... 'course we're friends.

[If Kotetsu thought hard enough, maybe he could picture that Sanji's a mirror, too. A mirrored person with that same grumbly voice, telling him things he should be telling himself.]

We're great friends.

[That much, he doesn't hesitate on.]

[............

Oh.

There's a hand-shaped blood print on the back of your very nice vest.

Look at that perfect shape.]

[BACK TO VICE-GRIPPING WITH A HUG]

It'll... get better...

Things get better, naa?

Aaa... they do.

No where else to go but up.

[... Now that we got that crap out of the way.

Let Sanji slide right out of the hug and introduce you into a headlock, Kotetsu]

So. Wanna discuss how you're gonna pay for that broom you just broke, eh?

[W-what

but

serious situation--!!

GHK!]

O-oi, but there's--no cash in Luceti, though!

Then you get to work it off, asshole.

-- After we've cleaned up your hand.

[Oh....

He winces, pulling his hand back into the shielding care of the other.]

It's not that bad... Just a little ointment and it'll be good as new.

[Also he doesn't want you to poke at it because you have no bedside manner.

NONE AT ALL.]

[What are you talking about, Kotetsu? As if Sanji would handle your poor, injured hand with anything save tender delicateness.

... Your windpipe, however, is free game for squeezing. HOPE YOU DON'T MIND.]

"A little" my ass. C'mon, let's go wash it. [NO ARGUING. Sanji will drag you to the sink of he has to]

[There's a sigh cut off by being yanked to the sink, and he walks casually with the other like he's totally not being dragged by the neck. Still totally not going to tell you about the blood on your vest, either, asshole.]

Mooou--

I guess--I should watch what I do. It's already kinda...

[hmmm... well.]

It's harder to make a fist. Kinda' shakes a lot.

Edited 2013-01-11 04:06 (UTC)

Idiot, you've still got pieces of wood stuck in there! Stop trying to make a fist!

[He runs some water, though before dunking the injured hand in (and possibly Kotetsu's head for the hell of it), Sanji grabs it by the wrist to inspect it himself.]

... Jeez, how did you do all this with a shitty broom?

[Hey, not all of it. Some of his hand problems is from Nami's staff bludgeoning his hand! Or from Tony shooting his wrist. Either/or. It was a traumatic time for Kotetsu's hand--and why he didn't bother healing it is his own sad bottle of secrets.]

With lots of practice.

[Grumbled and soggy, of course.]

Just clean it up properly and then I'll take care of the rest.

[He's assuming Kotetsu knows how to do that much, given how... Hero-prone he is]

14 • Working Ethic • [Voice/Action]

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