暖か | warmth

                                    

                                          

                            

                                
                            
                              
                                  
                              
                              
                                
                                  
                                  
                                
                              
                             
                            
                            
                          
                          
                          


                          
~仕始める~
                          
"Pardon me?" I leaned forward, waiting for Senjuro to repeat himself. 
                          
"Can you draw my brother for me? I'm sorry for the sudden request, but I'm not sure when I'll see you again." Senjuro stood straight as if trying to look confident, but his face was scrunched. 
                          
"I don't know what your brother looks like though..." 
                          
"He looks just like father and I, except he's much more confident, there was never a moment he didn't wear a smile," He started, "He died at the hands of an upper moon, I miss his little encouragements so much—" His own voice got caught in his throat, grief practically radiated from him.
                          
 Quiet wails of pain came from him, his body lightly shook in a silent agony. 
                          
"I don't care if it was more than a couple months ago! I miss him still!" He completely broke down in the middle of the kitchen, lightly rubbing his body on the floor beneath him. 
                          
"I can't be happy! Not like this! It's too hard!"
                          
His shaking became more violent. 
                          
"Blood demon art: Vulnerability of the soul."
                          
This small request of a mere drawing turned into a sobfest, not that I'm complaining. Senjuro desperately needed to cry out his feelings, he's been bottled up for God knows how long. This was a push for him in the right direction. 
                          
I didn't have very many demon arts, this one was based off of Tamayo's illusion art. I completely changed the feel of the room to feel safe and secure, which allowed Senjuro to become as vulnerable as he needed to be. His cries were painful, they reminded me of the weeks of raw screaming that Yushiro had done. Even when they're gone demons cause so much pain. 
                          
"Come back aniki! Come back!" He begged, rubbing his body on the ground more hoping someone could hear his pathetic pleas. 
                          
It hurt. 
                          
I couldn't do much as he drew himself into a panic attack, I could only soothe him by offering my shoulder to cry on. 
                          
"It's okay now, he's in a better place now," I said to him as he screamed into my chest. 
                          
"I don't care! I want him here with me! I don't care if it's selfish!" 
                          
The both of us sat on the floor embracing each other, his sobs and the quiet boiling of noodles were the only thing that filled the room. Before long he laid unconscious in my arms. 
                          
Something filled my stomach and chest, something I hadn't felt in a long time. 
                          
Warmth.
                          
For some reason I'm happy, I hope I helped him even if it was a little bit. I carried him and wandered the house hoping to find a bedroom and I set him in the first futon I had encountered. After that I tried to save the remnants of the lunch Senjuro had started.