（ he will be aware of the pain that follows — but more salient than that is the frustration, the helplessness and the fury unleashed by the combat. it's rather obviously not directed at her opponent, it's more... as if a stopgap measure against a tidal flux of emotions has failed, and everything she's felt since naruto's disappearance has just poured out all at once in a battlefield waltz.
welcome to the sundry emotions of a young woman, d. it's so much all at once.
there is grim, smug satisfaction as she lands hits. there is annoyance and self-directed disparagement when one is landed on her in turn. the fight is clearly a protracted one, and by the time reedy exhaustion is woven through the bond, intermingled with pain and a sort of emotional numbness it's been a considerable time since her first message. while there are numerous little hurts transmitted through the bond, the worst of them are focused on the left thigh and right flank, the burn of deep lacerations.
she does send him a selfie after the fight, fingers held in up in the cheerful simulacrum of a victory sign. there's blood and dirt smudged across one cheek and up into her mussed hair and the beginnings of a black eye, marring those good looks lefty is so fond of. a split lip makes her smile just a little crooked. ）
As promised.
（ she's going to just lay here for a bit, nbd. it's been a while since she took a beating like that, and she can't heal herself just yet without releasing the byakugō — which she's not exactly eager to do given the waste of chakra it would entail. her injuries are painful, but not fatal. she'll be fine. ）
（ she's like, half a mess. but there is certainly a part of her that enjoys fighting, pushing herself, proving herself. so there's a warm smoulder of pride beneath the ashes of the pain, too. ）
Yeah. Just low on chakra at the moment, I'm waiting until it's restored to head back across the bay. I'll be okay.
[He would tell her to let him know when she is back, but there is no need since he can feel it when it’s so.
Instead, he takes the opportunity in the time he has to leave some things in her office at the clinic: some bandages for any of the injuries which may or may not get healed completely, a wax paper wrapped stick of dango, and a little vial that’s warm to the touch. To sooth the cold. It looks very much like something from a certain bird’s shop.]
You can rest inside my door if you need to. It’s dangerous there out in the open.
（ d's door is considerably closer than hers, actually, so that's not a half-bad idea, and an appreciated invitation. she doesn't respond immediately, instead focusing on getting back to her feet and heading off in that direction.
surely, he'll be aware of it when she opens the door and steps inside. it feels strangely empty without him, the walls possessed of an uncanny sense of being both too close and limitlessly distant, and she has to resist the urge to throw a sheet or something over that foreboding painting. even forewarned, the cruel beauty makes her shiver to look at it, and she settles for making an unpleasant face at it.
the small bed is a draw, but she also doesn't want to bleed all over his sheets (she's reasonably assured he won't care, but she's also reasonably assured she will) so she ends up sitting down just inside the door with her back against the dark polished wood. that stupid picture is directly in her field of vision. inescapable.
if she ever meets mr vampire king, she is going to punch him straight in the face. possibly also several other, less polite places.
ultimately, she pulls out her phone more as a distraction than any actual desire to talk. the action of walking here will have aggravated her injuries, and she doesn't dare lift the bandages to check on them until they've had a chance to coagulate anew. ）
Made it. Can you tell when I'm here?
（ he's still the only person that's been in her room, and never alone. she is Scientifically Curious. ）
[The sensation is only a little different than what happens with Krampus. She enters his door, and the hair on the back of his neck rises, there’s a tickle in the bottom of his mind.
He can feel her there, a distant haze. Familiar. And, if he’s honest, a bit comforting knowing she is safe. The fatigue and ache permeates over to him a little more strongly.]
( this bastard. sakura heaves a sigh and gets back to her feet. getting blood all over a bed in a vampire's room, surely this cannot go poorly. but she does listen, at least, stiffly limping the distance and then just sprawling across the bed on top of the covers. now that the adrenaline has abated, she's feeling every little bite of grimmjow's claws.
hopefully he's feeling it too. it's not like she didn't give him a fight.
（ he's lucky she decided to accept the manipulation for what it was, lbr.
sakura turns so she's laying on one side rather than being dramatically draped prone across the bed, and props herself up so she can look at the hologram more closely. the woman is achingly beautiful, but the way he'd talked about vampires making off with beautiful woman turns her stomach just the same to look at her. was it like that for her? ）
[The woman continues to smile demurely. Her expression isn’t unlike she would be happy to have Sakura’s company, like they may be friends.
The portrait of the man across the way has the illusionary eyes—as if they’re following the onlooker where ever they move, But strangely now, the red eyes seem to be gazing at the woman, and he appears more morose than usual. Forlorn.]
She was a kind woman, but I did not know her for very long.
（ d is always very forthcoming when she asks, but... is it a topic he actually wants to dwell on, or just something he's telling her to get her mind off the pain?
she doesn't respond right away, but after a few minutes: ）
[Well, he doesn’t answer for some time. Typically, he wouldn’t even say this much, but the circumstances are vastly different here than on the Frontier.
Not to mention they are now linked. She can feel the hesitation of politeness, trying not to make things uncomfortable for her.]
The Noble in the portrait on the wall. He took me from her to study.
（ well, that chasm of time is such that she does actually fall asleep. he can probably feel it, the way exhaustion intersects with the peace of rest. she's probably going to drool right on his nice linens like a proper houseguest, face smushed into the crook of her arm, halfly curled up in a hybrid of the recovery and fetal positions.
ninjas, as it happens, are pretty good at falling asleep at the drop of a hat when they're in a relatively safe space. economy of time and necessity both — it's been a long time since she had to push herself in combat like that. it was sparring, not life or death — but grimmjow's enthusiasm for fighting meant it wasn't exactly a friendly match.
discipline does jolt her awake a handful of hours later, and for a time she just stares up into the dim light of the ceiling, one hand on her stomach, fingers creeping towards the wounds on her flank, clawmarks in a neat line. she probably has enough chakra to at least mend it enough that it won't bleed, even if knitting together all the torn muscle fibres is out of the question.
will he feel that, too? she fumbles for her phone, which had gotten tucked under a blanket in the midst of her nap, and fires off a quick, sorry — fell asleep before she reads his message properly.
she thinks of orochimaru, and shivers despite the warmth of the room. 'study'. no, she can imagine what he means. ）
You don't have to say anything, D. Just because I'm curious about things doesn't mean I'm entitled to an answer.
（ learned that lesson the hard way. it's not a mistake she wants to carry forwards. ）
I'd prefer if you told me things because you wanted me to know.
[He actually doesn’t mind she falls asleep. Resting is good for her, and he’s glad. (And only not worried because he can still feel her presence inside his door.)
She should be returning to Stygia soon even though he will enigmatically and mysteriously not be at the clinic. Why not leave gifts and run?]
I would not tell you if I didn’t want you to know.
He is searching for a way to create a perfect being. Someone will all of a vampire’s strengths, but none of the weaknesses.
（ she peels her shirt up from her side, grimacing a bit as the congealed blood sticks and pulls where it had spilled beyond the hasty dressing. is it her imagination, or are the eyes of that awful portrait briefly on her at the iron-stained scent of blood? ）
Every tyrant wants a perfect soldier to do their bidding. Horrifying.
I'm sorry. It mustn't have been easy for you at such a young age.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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welcome to the sundry emotions of a young woman, d. it's so much all at once.
there is grim, smug satisfaction as she lands hits. there is annoyance and self-directed disparagement when one is landed on her in turn. the fight is clearly a protracted one, and by the time reedy exhaustion is woven through the bond, intermingled with pain and a sort of emotional numbness it's been a considerable time since her first message. while there are numerous little hurts transmitted through the bond, the worst of them are focused on the left thigh and right flank, the burn of deep lacerations.
she does send him a selfie after the fight, fingers held in up in the cheerful simulacrum of a victory sign. there's blood and dirt smudged across one cheek and up into her mussed hair and the beginnings of a black eye, marring those good looks lefty is so fond of. a split lip makes her smile just a little crooked. ）
As promised.
（ she's going to just lay here for a bit, nbd. it's been a while since she took a beating like that, and she can't heal herself just yet without releasing the byakugō — which she's not exactly eager to do given the waste of chakra it would entail. her injuries are painful, but not fatal. she'll be fine. ）
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Also very weird to feel the extremely human emotions she has about all of it. He frowns in exasperation at the selfie. Sakura, you look like a mess.]
Will you be able to make it back safely?
[What he does after depends on her answer.]
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Yeah. Just low on chakra at the moment, I'm waiting until it's restored to head back across the bay. I'll be okay.
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[He would tell her to let him know when she is back, but there is no need since he can feel it when it’s so.
Instead, he takes the opportunity in the time he has to leave some things in her office at the clinic: some bandages for any of the injuries which may or may not get healed completely, a wax paper wrapped stick of dango, and a little vial that’s warm to the touch. To sooth the cold. It looks very much like something from a certain bird’s shop.]
You can rest inside my door if you need to. It’s dangerous there out in the open.
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surely, he'll be aware of it when she opens the door and steps inside. it feels strangely empty without him, the walls possessed of an uncanny sense of being both too close and limitlessly distant, and she has to resist the urge to throw a sheet or something over that foreboding painting. even forewarned, the cruel beauty makes her shiver to look at it, and she settles for making an unpleasant face at it.
the small bed is a draw, but she also doesn't want to bleed all over his sheets (she's reasonably assured he won't care, but she's also reasonably assured she will) so she ends up sitting down just inside the door with her back against the dark polished wood. that stupid picture is directly in her field of vision. inescapable.
if she ever meets mr vampire king, she is going to punch him straight in the face. possibly also several other, less polite places.
ultimately, she pulls out her phone more as a distraction than any actual desire to talk. the action of walking here will have aggravated her injuries, and she doesn't dare lift the bandages to check on them until they've had a chance to coagulate anew. ）
Made it. Can you tell when I'm here?
（ he's still the only person that's been in her room, and never alone. she is Scientifically Curious. ）
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He can feel her there, a distant haze. Familiar. And, if he’s honest, a bit comforting knowing she is safe. The fatigue and ache permeates over to him a little more strongly.]
I can.
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Would you mind if I slept here? A couple hours would be enough, then I can heal myself and come back on one of the boats.
（ a pause. then: ）
Ah, not in the bed! I'm a mess. I can sleep on the floor.
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[As if he wouldn’t be a gentleman about it.]
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hopefully he's feeling it too. it's not like she didn't give him a fight.
at length — )
Who is she?
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She was my mother.
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sakura turns so she's laying on one side rather than being dramatically draped prone across the bed, and props herself up so she can look at the hologram more closely. the woman is achingly beautiful, but the way he'd talked about vampires making off with beautiful woman turns her stomach just the same to look at her. was it like that for her? ）
She has kind eyes. I can see the resemblance.
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The portrait of the man across the way has the illusionary eyes—as if they’re following the onlooker where ever they move, But strangely now, the red eyes seem to be gazing at the woman, and he appears more morose than usual. Forlorn.]
She was a kind woman, but I did not know her for very long.
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she doesn't respond right away, but after a few minutes: ）
Is it something you'd like to talk about?
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Not to mention they are now linked. She can feel the hesitation of politeness, trying not to make things uncomfortable for her.]
The Noble in the portrait on the wall. He took me from her to study.
[“Study,” and not tutelage.]
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ninjas, as it happens, are pretty good at falling asleep at the drop of a hat when they're in a relatively safe space. economy of time and necessity both — it's been a long time since she had to push herself in combat like that. it was sparring, not life or death — but grimmjow's enthusiasm for fighting meant it wasn't exactly a friendly match.
discipline does jolt her awake a handful of hours later, and for a time she just stares up into the dim light of the ceiling, one hand on her stomach, fingers creeping towards the wounds on her flank, clawmarks in a neat line. she probably has enough chakra to at least mend it enough that it won't bleed, even if knitting together all the torn muscle fibres is out of the question.
will he feel that, too? she fumbles for her phone, which had gotten tucked under a blanket in the midst of her nap, and fires off a quick, sorry — fell asleep before she reads his message properly.
she thinks of orochimaru, and shivers despite the warmth of the room. 'study'. no, she can imagine what he means. ）
You don't have to say anything, D. Just because I'm curious about things doesn't mean I'm entitled to an answer.
（ learned that lesson the hard way. it's not a mistake she wants to carry forwards. ）
I'd prefer if you told me things because you wanted me to know.
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She should be returning to Stygia soon even though he will enigmatically and mysteriously not be at the clinic. Why not leave gifts and run?]
I would not tell you if I didn’t want you to know.
He is searching for a way to create a perfect being. Someone will all of a vampire’s strengths, but none of the weaknesses.
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Every tyrant wants a perfect soldier to do their bidding. Horrifying.
I'm sorry. It mustn't have been easy for you at such a young age.
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I’m not sure if he was ever interested in a tool.
I was never the only one, but one of the few to survive.
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One of a few...?