[ rika remembers because of course she remembers. this was part of her own quiet and violent living curse as a girl, and it is her blessing as the monster out from under the bed in yuuta's presence. the things she would rather forget are, ultimately, nothing compared to the things she needs to keep for herself: yuuta's promise, yuuta's tears as much as his smile, yuuta's impossible heart. sometimes she thinks she can feel it beating in her shadowed hands more like claws more like imaginary things; sometimes.
invisible still as she is, there are no visual indicators such as a tilt of the head as a girl might do, such as the mild narrowing of an expression in skepticism as rika specifically might do edged always in something learned and saccharine that has never been aimed at yuuta. her presence might be perceived in the feeling of rippled water or changing weather without the carding of the wind to evidence it. yuuta might feel a bloom inside or a twist almost contraction of space, acute to rika as he has always been and ever will be. but she does not look for these things even as he cannot look for her; theirs is a bond of trust.
the madness of the world they inhabit was made known to rika from a very young age. as dramatic as the culling games are, she is not surprised and nor does she wish she was. wishes are a kind of prayer and the shape of rika's piety is the boy who never forsook her. ]
Maybe.
[ one release on her binds was certainly the near berserker level of response. the possessiveness is still present but control is key. rika would tap her tiny fingertips to her chin if she had that shape still. she does not know if she would like them. 'like'. who has she ever liked but yuuta? yet she could perhaps find value in them as people who care and protect him. this much, she can suppose in that way of near wild animals, half domesticated; that which is not a threat to the loved one is permissible, if always watched. there is the one yuuta aims to free; rika values that one, because he protected yuuta. the same can be said here, and where before she would have been excruciatingly maddeningly hurt by his investment in anyone else, this 'freed' version of her self spans the threshold of 'that' and 'this. what would be a soft hum from a girl is just a fluctuation in energy as she replies again, easier and unfettered: ]
Miss... you too.
[ selfishness is inescapable, a part of every human living or dead, still human or curse become. it hurts. still clear in her memory: how she forced everyone to be afraid of yuuta but in truth it was she that they feared. how she had not even the wherewithal to regret these acts of violence who came too close to the only reason she could see for persisting, that which bound her. it would not be accurate really to say she feels guilty; she doesn't. but rika spoke truly: she remembers. she thinks, against odds. she —
— stays.
also clear: how yuuta forgave her, how he held her as if she was not a monster and told her he would give her everything and how it tipped her into a madness deeper than she thought she could come back from.
how exhilarating.
how heartbreaking.
rika wants yuuta to love her. she also wants him to live. when the time comes that these two realities cannot co-exist, well, they will handle it then.
a curse dares to hope, invisible and validated by only one: time will give them a while longer.
the desire to take physical form, to draw herself out of the dark and into his true space is suffocating. she feels neither large nor small, formed as monster or girl, none of it; just the dense weight of aching want.
yuuta she thinks. ]
Yuuta...careful. The games...liars.
[ what limits will not permit: you must be careful who you trust.
because there are lies woven through everything here. it is in the air. a smell and a taste. deception is a kind of blood and bone. especially, rika distrusts because the jujutsu sorcerers world whether speaking of right now or going all the way back to the original kamo noritoshi has been a disaster widely misshapen by adults. the ones who suffer most tend to be children. even outside the realm of sorcery, this had been proven to be true in her eyes. to articulate this even in her 'head' is impossible. there are parts of rika that yet remain almost childlike and her communication is sometimes apparent in this, not only in how simple or short but her response. she isn't a child. she isn't a teenager. she isn't an adult.
rika, once queen of curses.
what then?
pure love. perhaps.
after all, no one ever said love was harmless. love can be scared and love can be violent. love can be a curse or a kindness or both.
how she sees, she could not explain, but in this rare lull of a moment, there is time to notice not only the suggestion of tears but also an errant scrape. not much of anything, and surprising given yuuta's skill. but he has been going through protecting people while also fighting; he is human.
frustrating to not be able to always choose when she can reach out, but it is such a small scrape she wonders...
yuuta may feel a blur of warmth then coolness against the place where one thin scrape graced his forearm. but it isn't there anymore. ]
no subject
invisible still as she is, there are no visual indicators such as a tilt of the head as a girl might do, such as the mild narrowing of an expression in skepticism as rika specifically might do edged always in something learned and saccharine that has never been aimed at yuuta. her presence might be perceived in the feeling of rippled water or changing weather without the carding of the wind to evidence it. yuuta might feel a bloom inside or a twist almost contraction of space, acute to rika as he has always been and ever will be. but she does not look for these things even as he cannot look for her; theirs is a bond of trust.
the madness of the world they inhabit was made known to rika from a very young age. as dramatic as the culling games are, she is not surprised and nor does she wish she was. wishes are a kind of prayer and the shape of rika's piety is the boy who never forsook her. ]
Maybe.
[ one release on her binds was certainly the near berserker level of response. the possessiveness is still present but control is key. rika would tap her tiny fingertips to her chin if she had that shape still. she does not know if she would like them. 'like'. who has she ever liked but yuuta? yet she could perhaps find value in them as people who care and protect him. this much, she can suppose in that way of near wild animals, half domesticated; that which is not a threat to the loved one is permissible, if always watched. there is the one yuuta aims to free; rika values that one, because he protected yuuta. the same can be said here, and where before she would have been excruciatingly maddeningly hurt by his investment in anyone else, this 'freed' version of her self spans the threshold of 'that' and 'this. what would be a soft hum from a girl is just a fluctuation in energy as she replies again, easier and unfettered: ]
Miss... you too.
[ selfishness is inescapable, a part of every human living or dead, still human or curse become. it hurts. still clear in her memory: how she forced everyone to be afraid of yuuta but in truth it was she that they feared. how she had not even the wherewithal to regret these acts of violence who came too close to the only reason she could see for persisting, that which bound her. it would not be accurate really to say she feels guilty; she doesn't. but rika spoke truly: she remembers. she thinks, against odds. she —
— stays.
also clear: how yuuta forgave her, how he held her as if she was not a monster and told her he would give her everything and how it tipped her into a madness deeper than she thought she could come back from.
how exhilarating.
how heartbreaking.
rika wants yuuta to love her. she also wants him to live. when the time comes that these two realities cannot co-exist, well, they will handle it then.
a curse dares to hope, invisible and validated by only one: time will give them a while longer.
the desire to take physical form, to draw herself out of the dark and into his true space is suffocating. she feels neither large nor small, formed as monster or girl, none of it; just the dense weight of aching want.
yuuta she thinks. ]
Yuuta...careful. The games...liars.
[ what limits will not permit: you must be careful who you trust.
because there are lies woven through everything here. it is in the air. a smell and a taste. deception is a kind of blood and bone. especially, rika distrusts because the jujutsu sorcerers world whether speaking of right now or going all the way back to the original kamo noritoshi has been a disaster widely misshapen by adults. the ones who suffer most tend to be children. even outside the realm of sorcery, this had been proven to be true in her eyes. to articulate this even in her 'head' is impossible. there are parts of rika that yet remain almost childlike and her communication is sometimes apparent in this, not only in how simple or short but her response. she isn't a child. she isn't a teenager. she isn't an adult.
rika, once queen of curses.
what then?
pure love. perhaps.
after all, no one ever said love was harmless. love can be scared and love can be violent. love can be a curse or a kindness or both.
how she sees, she could not explain, but in this rare lull of a moment, there is time to notice not only the suggestion of tears but also an errant scrape. not much of anything, and surprising given yuuta's skill. but he has been going through protecting people while also fighting; he is human.
frustrating to not be able to always choose when she can reach out, but it is such a small scrape she wonders...
yuuta may feel a blur of warmth then coolness against the place where one thin scrape graced his forearm. but it isn't there anymore. ]