cursebound. (Earinor & Akira)

Genji wanted this to be real, not a dream. It had been a long long time since he felt like this. At home and safe. if only it could stay that way, but hundreds of years of agony were awaiting him and it would never stop. He started trembling and enjoying this moment was hard when he knew that it wouldn't last. Maybe it would at least give him some energy, some strength to fight this curse further. The curse that still lingered on his body. He didn't dare question where it spread to and if it was gone completely, he'd also know what he had done. "I am worried... I don't want to wake up Otoha... I want to stay with you... I thought we would, but then..." There was a memory welling up, one that drove tears into his eyes and made it hard to swallow. Something had happened and she didn't keep her promise. She left him and she was going to again, or maybe this was only in his head, either way, he'd be alone again. He couldn't go on centuries to come, how much longer until he was pushed to give in and die already.


This song she hummed. He knew at, every single note of it. It calmed him down a bit, but still, he didn't want to leave this dream. "Patched us... up...?", he repeated and pressed his eyes shut as if that helped him remember. "What did I do...?", he asked again, this time knowing that there had been a fight. It was most likely him that hurt her again and she played it down to protect him. He didn't deserve this and he remembered why he left her for some time... but they met again. Before today, somewhen in the past... "Him...?", he asked next, finally lifting up his head to look at the person he was talking to. He expected a woman, but he lay in the arms of a man that kind of shared some familiar features. "Otoha, what...?" What had happened, how much time had passed and... Trembling hands pulled on the blanket and then the mans clothing to reveal a shoddily sewn together body. It indeed looked like a corpse and Genji wasn't sure if he was going insane. "Mikuni... Mikuni-no-Homare...", he remembered this mans name and while one eye was sparkling with light, the other looked empty and cold. "Am I... going crazy...?", he asked the ghost of his past, grabbing his own head as it started to hurt again. While he did that he noticed the curse missing from it. "I... I did..."

There it was again. Would he ever learn? Otoha doubted it with every fiber of her being - he’d never do, mainly because the truth was inconvenient and absolutely repulsive. She’d never blame Genji for anything, she’d always try to protect him from the world, shelter him for as long as he needed, if only it helped him to grow as a person - to become someone he no longer was, but that he still should be. “I broke my body. I know. Bodies are fragile, I’m sorry. The moment you turn immortal, you forget how fragile a shell can be.”, she apologized, sincerely this time around. However, this wasn’t what concerned her right now, at least not mainly - it was the erratic behavior that was about to follow, and she knew that she was doing something incredibly dumb by just inhabiting and navigating a dead body like this around. Mikuni needed to rest, both physically and psychologically, but instead she’d make him work and was doing the same, even now. “I’m back now, and I can’t disappear forevermore, you know? The whims of fate have allowed us to be with one another again, it’s great.” She wrapped some blonde locks around her finger, locks she dearly missed, but maybe Genji was right to discard them. Change was inevitable.

“You were bleeding. Profusely. I couldn’t bear it.” Besides, he’d definitely gotten his blood everywhere, so much so that she had essentially torn his clothing up to get him out of it - maybe some pieces survived the purge, but Otoha doubted it with her whole heart. If she had one, that was. For now, she wanted to lay in his arms and bask in the late afternoon sun, like they’d done hundreds of years ago, but it was too late for that. The shock and disbelief in Genjis eyes almost hurt when she was forced to see it for more than a fleeting second. Before she could even process that she needed to stop him, he was already making a commotion and thrashing around in their bed - Otoha watched him, observed what he was looking at and saw the disgusting, lopsided stitches she’d given this body. It wasn’t beautiful, not one bit. “Shh.”, she mumbled. Her hands cupped his face and she ran a thumb over his lips - he was worrying about too much, all at once. “He’s fine. We’re fine. We’re not dead.”, Otoha reminded him. For once, Genji was the one at a loss it seemed, and therefore, she grabbed his pesky hand and placed it on the lone eyeball that didn’t fit into Mikunis face. “Feel that? As long as we have this, nothing is going to happen to us. Like this, we’re immortal, but … Kuni is pretty tired, give him some rest. And you, too. Come here.”, she demanded and offered Genji a hug. One of many, but the first in hundreds of years. “Or … do you not like this body?”, she wondered. “You did your best. It’s my fault.”

Genji locked at the broken body, one that seemed hardly alive. He shook his head and let it hang. "That was me... Don't lie to me...", he mumbled. He believed to remember that Otoha had always been reckless, but he also knew that he himself was capable of unspeakable things. Looking around here he saw nobody else. He heard no one outside either and the air smelled of blood, smoke and burned flesh. The two of them were the only ones left and he knew that for a fact. How many people had lived here? He could only slowly remember the halls Mikuni led him through, but it was a huge building and probably harbored a few dozens of people. "Forever...? What about your eye being destroyed...?", he asked, unsure if he should know what was going on and how Otoha managed to become what she was now. Genji shook his head, trying to remember, but there was nothing. He thought she was dead, didn't he? How many years ago was that? He couldn't tell, he didn't even now how old he was and when he met Otoha for the first time.

"Bleeding...?", he then asked. That was probably why his back hurt. A knife... thats what had happened. He remembered more and more now, though he couldn't be sure if he didn't mix his memories up with other ones. This body, that was him too, but usually the curse stopped once a person had died. Why did he do so much damage to this poor mans body? He only looked up when the warm hand reached out to him again. He was pulled into another hug, returning it halfheartedly. "What if I destroy it...? I can't protect you from it...", he asked mumbling. They should stay away from him, just like everybody else. Otoha never understood, she would never understand. He didn't want to answer her question about this new body. The one belonging eye looked like her old ones and the hair color was very similar, but he didn't really care about this, or did he? He wasn't sure, but he felt like the actual owner of this body wouldn't want a hug from Genji. "I don't understand what happened to you... you were..." What? She had been human once, hadn't she?

Cut to ribbons it was, a feast for a madman, undeniably wasted on a curses fanatical hunger. There was nothing either of them could or would be capable of doing, and neither of them had the ability to even surpass one anothers thirst for some sort of conquest; for the freedom that either of them sought, outside of their bodies, no longer bound to the things that either of them had found themselves attached to. Otoha could disappear if she wanted to, she knew that, but there was no use in doing so - and Genji could call his life quits, too, if he wanted the rest of the world to suffer, which he clearly despised more than anything as it seemed. She patted the back of his head softly, drawing him close, but keeping a respectable, yet miniscule amount of distance between the two of them. Everything was still touching, but Genji didn't seem to like it. "I never lied, did I? I'm just sugarcoating things. Saving some truth, one might say.", she concluded. Otoha smiled about it, as if she was doing her utmost at that point, but in reality, she couldn't be - she was leading Genji astray, weirdly enough. "My eye? It'll be mostly fine. I'll just need to grow another limb." It wouldn't be, but that was a truth Genji had to wait for.

In the end, they both huddled in one anothers arms yet again - it felt like the old times, when nothing in this world could or should be wrong, and yet, it somehow failed to be just that. Was there some underlying connection between the two of them? Could they even do anything like this, without Genji knowing a thing? Otoha didn't know, and yet, she refused to elaborate their relationship in real words, despite being painfully aware of it. "Yes, bleeding. You're fine now. But you're mortal. And fragile. You've changed." Back then, Genji was ... different. Not much, but he had worn his hair in a different way and acted more eratic, maybe even much less compassionate than now - Otoha wasn't sure, she knew too many of his faces at this point, and every few years, with every other forgotten memory, it changed the slightest bit, fine-tuning itself to impossible standards. Somehow. "Destroy what? Kuni? My vessel? He's immortal. Well, both his body and soul is, as long as I am who I am. Don't hurt him too much, though, he's delicate. He's not like us." Sure, he was older at this point, but that wasn't what Otoha meant. Both Genji and her had faced many hardships in their lives, things that made them numb and almost soulless at times, but Mikuni-no-Homare was very much not that. She stroked through the blonde locks once more, massaging the back of Genjis head. "I was human? Mortal? Dead?", she chuckled. "Things change, my dear. You used to be mortal, too. Do you really want to know what happened to me?"

"Why are you trying to protect me. If you were still mortal... or him... I would have killed you too." His memory might be a mess, he might not know how long he lived or what exactly happened, but how could he forget the curses nature, his nature? Maybe an immortal being was the only companion he could have, but he wouldn't force Mikuni to keep up with him, with someone that did... he didn't even want to know how he managed to damage his body this badly. Looking at him or Otoha in itself wasn't easy. The neck, the face, everything was blue and green. Not mentioning the fact that there was no heart beating in that chest and the stomach had been swen shut. What was with that body? Would it even heal? This poor boy hadn't deserved that, none of it. He didn't remember this woman, but he felt happy to talk to her again, yet was this fair? Besides... even if she was truly immortal, that man was not and he spoke of a life he never got to see, didn't he? "Why did you let him stay here...?", he asked. This place here was wrong. He didn't like to be here. He tried to warn Genji... he did warn him, just not soon enough.

"I've always been mortal... kind of...", he told the goddess. He always was killable at least, even though he didn't age. This Mikuni was the opposite as it seemed. He aged, but Genji hadn't killed him. Had she changed? He couldn't tell, but something didn't feel right. It was... too perfect. There had to be a catch to all this. "Destroy this eye... I meant your eye...", he mumbled. He felt odd like this, as if the goddess he apparently knew lured him into something he should stay away from, yet he didn't stop her, nor did he want to move away. Not yet. "You were all of those things.", he told her. Human, mortal and dead, now she was none. How and why? Why was she sounding so cheery about all this? Maybe she had been mad at Genji before, because he didn't remember her, but shouldn't she feel... somehow different? "I can still die..." If he wouldn't be able to, this would be easier. They could have truly locked him up, with no food, no air, nothing. They could chop him up. If he had this body that he just hugged, maybe the world would be saved and he could stop fighting. "I do want to know..."

“You? That thing isn’t you, Genji - you’re not Noroichi, and Noroichi isn’t you. It’s a rabid beast, sure, but it’s the furthest thing from being you.”, Otoha complained, a smile plastered on her lips. There weren’t many things in either of their lives that she could sugarcoat, and yet, the few that she could warp and twist were much more important than the ones that she regrettably could only watch pass by beside her. “I do not fear you, I never could.” There was nothing to lament about any of this, and there was no chance that she even wanted to think about her injuries. Mikuni needed rest, lots of it, and he needed ample medication - salves and powders - to heal, even when his body was doing most of the work with godly powers. Even still, he was no god, just the vessel of one, and therefore was almost holy himself. How many times could this cursed, wretched thing on Genjis arm disrespect such boundaries? The answer wasn’t clear, but it existed, somewhere out there. “It’s the safest place for him to be. I knew Seimei since he was a toddler - he never meant harm to Mikuni, he tried to protect him. But you’re right. The rest of this place is wretched, though, it’s purged and free of sin now.” If one were to ignore the two biggest sinners on this mountain, that was.

Otoha nuzzled closer to Genji, placing her chin upon his head and forcing him into her embrace. This body was different, if a bit more convenient - it lacked some plush cushioning, true, but it still was enough to smother someone with, against their will, even. “I know. You’ve never ascended or descended, and you’ve never found anything to gain immortality. You stayed, well, you. In a sense.”, she commented, running her fingers down his spine. Every nub she passed felt as if she was lighting a flame along her way, down an endless hillside, from Genjis neck to the small of his back, and then back up, and then back down. Naturally, this body felt and tried to be, but it didn’t manage to actually show how mortal it was; it wallowed in the decadence of someone that could not die, despite being murdered in one of the grizzliest ways. “That won’t happen, honey. If it does, it will just grow back. Don’t worry … in fact, I was wondering if you’d rather be my vessel? You could have it, and we could be together forever. How does that sound?”, Otoha mused. It would be weird, and it wouldn’t be fair to Kuni, though, it wasn’t fair to her to be stuck in a place like this either - they all would have to learn how to deal with loss, and they better did so soon, before they all had nothing left. She, however, amicably and regrettably, had to come clean, and that, too, was some sort of loss. “Was, yes. I guess you, on the other hand, have not changed.” Would this thing let him die? No, probably not. Otoha pulled on Genjis blanket, covering his body, then draping it over hers, too. “I redeemed myself, I died for them, they forced me to ascend. It’s been 400 years, Genji.”

Genji was biting his lip and tried to escape the hug a little. "That's not entirely true... if I'd be stronger...", he said and swallowed deeply. "I could have stopped this sooner. How many have I...?" Was that question even relevant? In the pool of souls he already amassed it was probably but a drop and yet he felt bad for every single one. She should be scared of him. She should stay away from him. This wasn't the first time he hurt her and it wouldn't be the last if she stayed close to him. "So I killed your friend...", he mumbled, though in turn he tried to... Genji rolled his shoulder and twitched as the wound on his back started hurting because of it. That had been him. This old priest. Everything was coming back to him, now that he knew where he was and that his memories fit and were not old ones from years ago. "What's this about sacrifices then...?", he carefully asked, not knowing if he truly wanted her to answer that. She'd never been needlessly violent, right? Even though she'd known how to fight.

Genji was pressed down further again, not forcefully and he let it happen. He was laying in her, or his, their bare chest, the one that lacked a heartbeat. She was wrong though. Genji hardly knew who he was or who he had been, though his years before the curse were probably the most clear ones. His life hadn't been very exciding though, besides the fact that he'd been an assassin and that his master probably wasn't a good person to begin with. He never hurt Genji though, just used him, but in return he got food and shelter. He got goosebumps when he felt her fingers running up and down his spine and even though he thought about getting both of them some food, he suddenly didn't want to get up anymore. He quickly got ripped out of his daze however. "No!", he refused instantly. He didn't know why, but he felt like that was the worst idea possible. If Otoha still had a soul to reap, the curse would find a way to do that. It was too dangerous to harbor two undying entities in one body and frankly, he had enough voices in his head as was. "I can't tell...", he answered though when she said he hadn't changed, but hadn't she also said the opposite before? Otoha seemingly wanted to stay in bed, because she pulled the blanket over both of them. Genji meanwhile had questions. The curse was sleeping, but his head didn't feel much clearer like this. "400...?", he repeated. That was unbelievable. He couldn't possibly have lived that long...? What did he do all those years? There was no coherence. "Why did you need to redeem yourself? Where was I...? Otoha, I..." He thought he'd be able to protect her, but he clearly hadn't. He could protect no one.

“Ifs, whens and potentially different scenarios are, unfortunately, not much more than wishful thinking. I know, it could be better, but alas. Nothing that works in this world is without flaw.”, she told him. In truth, in reality, or in realization - whatever came first - in was painfully clear that nothing would change if one didn’t let oneself be well aware of all those disparities that showed up when someone was plunged into their memories, headfirst no less. Failing was a shame, sure, but also a testament to ones humanity. “You? It killed enough of them. Many. I lost count. Don’t hurt your head over it, though - like I said, your body may be the catalyst, but it isn’t you. Don’t forget that, please.” The dam had broken because she’d tampered with the seal beforehand, and Seimei had been an idiot and removed what was left, basking in the joyous revelation that she couldn’t, or wouldn’t, punish him for it. Whatever the case, she pulled Genji back into the hug as he sheepishly twisted and turned to get away. Not with her. Not now. Not like this. They were so close, yet so far from one another - she didn’t want Kuni to wake up now, and she’d rather have Genji stay where he was, to share another moment of intimacy. “I don’t need one. I’m no blood god. Seimei and his troupe of bloodhounds just did it because they thought it was appropriate. Up until now, I’ve never actually been in full control of this body - I couldn’t stop them, even if they wanted to. Kuni was still too scared to flee, mostly. He thought that, with you, he at least might stand a chance.”, she chuckled. Cute.

There was nothing for a good, long while. Genji let himself be smothered and Otoha had started counting every single possible protruding bone in the blondes body - she softly dragged those fingers, unaware of hardship and pain, over this marred spine, then the full back. Docile, that’s what Genji became like in her touch, and she knew that she had the upper hand not that much later, though, she soon realized, that she was waiting for something - for a satisfied sigh - that never came. As she closed her own eyes for a bit, or tried to, a noise pulled her out of continued dormancy. That was … painfully clear. Otoha chuckled. “I was joking, silly. You’re already straining your body, and I can’t heal it all, but I can soothe it, no? I remember how much you liked my embrace - for a while, you were almost like a puppy.”, she recalled. She used but one hand to rustle through Genjis hair and then returned to soothing his back. Tired, she even closed her eyes a bit and swindled one of her legs between Genjis; she wanted some warmth and comfort from him, and her legs felt cold - he’d be taking care of that for her, wouldn’t he? The feeling after years of separation was quite nice, though - their skin brushed against one another and her missing heart skipped somewhat of a beat, if it could. “It’s fine to forget. That’s what you have me for.” There were too many unanswered questions, though, and she carefully drowned Genji in her embrace. She’d stopped counting at some point, but it had been around 400 - it had to be 380 since they lost sight of one another, though. Time worked very weird for either of them. “I … look. I can’t tell you everything, I don’t wish to hurt you by forcing you to remember, but by the time they killed me, forced me to ascend, I’d killed many. So many in fact, that I should be a blood god. I’m not. I had changed by the time they got me - and you, I’d left you days prior because I’d dreamt about my demise, and I’d rather left your heart broken than shattered by my untimely end.”

"I'm a flaw overall though... I'm tired of fighting...", he told Otoha with a deep sigh. Multiple hundreds of years broke a man, even a coldblooded assassin. He learned to hate killing, even though most of the curses victims weren't suffering. They suffered more when Genji tried to stop it and their death wasn't swift because of that. "It's my duty to not let that happen... One kill every few months should suffice." But he fought and fought and then the curse got too thirsty and pushed him away. It took control, just like last time and Genji couldn't bare to see their faces. He was a coward. "He listened to you.", Genji pointed out, because none of this made much sense to him. Maybe if he told them the goddess didn't want a sacrifice, they wouldn't have believed him, but either way, Genji didn't want any more people dying, that hadn't been necessary, not at all. Father Seimei had given up on Genji the moment he came in, he planned to kill him from the start, even though this had been Genjis last hope. It was no wonder the curse managed to break free so easily. "You should bring him somewhere where nobody knows him or you..." Genji wasn't fit to protect anyone.

Genji was torn. He knew Otoha wanted to stay with him, but he also knew that she couldn't. Besides that he lost all hope to ever be freed of this curse, unless he pushed the world to its end and he wasn't ready to accept humanities end. He couldn't move though. Not now. not when those hands lulled him into sleep and gave him something that he probably didn't receive for another hundreds of years. She knew too, that he wouldn't just stand up and leave now, even when he protested her idea of which he wasn't sure if she truly had meant it like a joke. He was coaxed into hugging her even more, into enjoying her touches as she came awfully close. he wasn't used to this at all. Had it been the same when they met? He wished he knew how long he'd been living when they met. Was it truly fine that he forgot so many things? That his human brain couldn't keep up with all those years he shouldn't have lived through? "Who's they...", he asked tired. "Why didn't you let me protect you...? Why did you kill...ugh..." Genjis head started to hurt more and more, as if he was running headfirst into a wall. It was a mental blockage in this case and he wasn't sure if it had been erected by himself.

"You? A flaw? Have more pride.", she demanded. There was nothing to be sorry about. Things had changed, and for all intents and purposes, so had they; one of them, albeit mortal and yet immortal, was no longer interested in killing and the other one, who'd always had some sort of disdain for unecessary bloodshed in her tiny, rotten heart, had turned into someone that demanded a sacrifice - a human sacrifice, not a sacrificial lamb, or simply the blood of any animal. Things had changed. "If only. That is more likely wishful thinking. It happened, you can't change the past, but you can improve in the future." Less bloodshed was an amicable goal, one she'd wholeheartedly support if she were allowed to, and one that even someone the likes of Genji could and should be proud of. There was painful silence in her head, however, and she knew that, as much as Kuni had missed her meddling and tampering with his thoughts, she was missing his. They weren't whole without one another, weren't they? "I was asleep. I demand no sacrifices, well, not ... like that, if I ever want one. I prefer them alive, warm and lovable, like you.", Otoha countered. Genji was cute to her, in a sense, but maybe not to everyone else - they'd call him striking, handsome, hot - and she thought of him of as adorable, which was a flaw in itself. She chuckled, then cooed. "That is a good idea, though, we'd have the mountain to ourselves now. What do you think? Me, you, and him - there's a library we can look through until we get bored, and an orchard we can eat from until the soil dries up."

A life of decadence had never been her type of thing, and by the time she had actually made moves on Genji, he'd abandoned the life of a noble douchebag, of limitless alcohol and an endless harem of women. Long gone were the days in which they mused about silvers from the past, voiced their own disbelief at their prior actions, and confessed their undying love to one another, like a couple would, if they were about to get engaged; but that never happened. Such a life wasn't for them, they had established as much, and if there bloodlines should die through someone, it was them and no one else. Wasn't that what they had told each other all those years ago? Otoha hummed the song of her people, long extinct, long gone in a shriek of agony, buried in the hills of their former homes. They were no more, and she, too, had gone on to become someone, something, entirely different. "Easy now.", she murmured. Just like that, she pressed her lips to the crown of Genjis head and smothered him in light kisses - he wasn't going to find anything out this way. "We've talked about too much for now, we don't need your head to explode. Just listen to me and relax. All your worries are gone, for now.", the ghostly goddess demanded, still running her vessels soft fingers up and down Genjis marred spine, to soothe what little was left of him. Silence hardly persisted when she found the tunes to hum in, and despite all the pain she should be enduring, there was barely any. They'd heal, together, just like this. "Hush now." And with that, she went on, in the hopes of Genji passing out, lest she actually had to smother him with a pillow to force him into slumber ... that's nothing she should be doing, not to him, of all people.

Of course Otoha didn't agree, she painted Genji in a most pleasant light, but the man she described was hardly him. Had she never been scared of him? He was scared of himself and the things he was capable of. Still he couldn't bring himself to leave her right now and as long as the curse stayed dormant there was no need to either. one or two weeks should be fine, right? If the curse didn't start to absolutely hate the fact that the goddess, that had some power over him, was still there. At least the wound on his back should heal first, he still felt it hurt and there would be a scar until the curse grew over it and would heal it at some point, though he rather didn't have it crawl that far. "I can't stay with you two forever...", he mumbled. This place was fine, besides the fact that it was a grave now. They had food and water though and no one disturbing them. Maybe Otoha should truly remain right here, but Genji couldn't and she should know that. Even if he didn't kill them, he also didn't want to hurt them.

Otoha started to hum a song that sounded most familiar to Genji. He heard this before, probably from her, all those years ago. Kisses were following, light ones he could barely feel through his blonde hair, he apparently wore different now. It was like a spell she cast on him and he felt terribly tired from trying to remember and from his body still recovering. She shushed him while he continued to run her fingers over Genjis body and he complied to her demands. He had so many questions, but they needed to wait. Genji closed his eyes and held onto Otohas new body. He listened to her voice that truly fit a goddess and he sighed softly when he found a comfortable position. He wasn't sure if he imagined it, but it felt like her heart was healing enough to procure a beat. It was soothing to hear and eventually Genji fell asleep once more.

Never once had she considered Genji a gruesome, despicable monster - he had his flaws, some of them his fault but most of them not, and all of them about as miniscule as she could imagine. If he'd opted to join her in eternity, then maybe he'd be free of his curse since long ago - but Genji hadn't. Even if he no longer remembered, he'd always had his very own set of rules, a codex about as amicable as one might think, and yet, it, too, came to pass eventually. What were rules to an assassin? Nothing more than dirt, possibly, but on the other hand, they might as well be worse than that. Even still, Genji was human, more so than ever, and Otoha was not. She'd forfeited humanity, to become a monster greater than all of them, ambitious and yet complete, and she died for her own goals, that much became apparent, now that she slaved away in a body that barely could be considered hers. What if she took it from Mikuni, then? Compared to her, he wasn't much, but on the off-chance that she actually cared about him, he was useful - though, this body was not. He could stand to be more like Genji, whom she kept touching and humming for, until the sweets gripes of slumber embraced him. For a while, she continued, and then, she, too, decided that sleep was for the best. Genji would stay with them forever, even if he couldn't - that barely was his choice to make.

By the time their body awoke, it was clearly already past the early hours of morning. Otoha was awake, he knew that, but instead she coaxed him out of his forced slumber, at the very back of his own mind. For a moment, Mikuni didn't know what had transpired - he blinked, unfathomably confused, with heavy eyelids keeping him trapped in his own head, just for a bit. Once he won the battle and wrested his own eyes open, or at the very least his own, he wished that he hadn't - there he lay, hogging most of their blankets, uncomfortably close, and letting spit dribble on his chest. Genji was dead asleep for now, but Mikuni, who was almost crushed by the waves of pain he suddenly felt, winced and groaned as he tried to break free from the iron grip he found himself in. "Let go!", he demanded, his pupil uncomfortably widened and his insides feeling ... horribly loose. If he didn't know better - which he didn't - he thought they were jostling around, his intestines freely slapping his heart when he tried to pull away and out of bed, while his broken ribs dug into his spleen and lungs likewise. His mouth felt dry and his eyes were watery before he knew it - his skin was awfully pale, and the moment he looked down, he saw a large incision, which had been sewn shut. "What on earth did you do to me!?"

Genji slept for who knew much longer. For once he felt save as long as he had Otohas arms wrapped around him and even though she was wrong, it was nice to hear that he wasn't that much of a monster. It was peaceful like that, although the peace ended abruptly when the body he held and that held him started trashing around. He opened his eyes and when he noticed the body he held close push him off - or trying to at least - he quickly let go to give him some room. With the bed hardly being big enough for two people, Genji fell out of it. His back hurt, but that didn't matter right now, instead he sat up and his blonde head emerged again. Additionally he held his hands up as if to show Mikuni-no-Homare that he didn't have any weapons and that he didn't plan on hurting him. "Mikuni?", he asked as if it hadn't been terribly obvious that he was in control now and not Otoha. He looked shocked, disgusted and maybe even in pain.

"I'm sorry... I... the curse is not an issue right now.", he tried to calm the vessel down. He wasn't sure how much he remembered himself, or if he just assumed the only other person in the room was at fault for what had happened to him. Well, he wasn't wrong there. "Are you okay?", he asked keeping his distance and still sitting on the floor if only for the fact that he was naked right now and it felt highly inappropriate. "You should probably not move...", he told him further. He needed to rest and get better first, his body didn't look alright still, even though Otoha hadn't complained about it herself. "I'm going to leave. If you tell me where your room is I could bring you some clothes?" And food, he'd find some for him somewhere. Maybe some fresh water as well. Once he was better and could fend for himself, Genji would leave him alone for good.

Mikuni had enough of this, but his head wasn’t in working order. She had instigated this, hadn’t she? Not once had he recalled anything past what this thing had done to him - his world faded to black and suddenly, he had felt like a child, dressed in rags, thrown into a damp, moldy basement, punished for proposing something, anything, to the rest of the world. He’d been ushered away and shut up, and now, he woke up next to the man that had butchered him so terribly, he was surprised that his head had remained on his shoulders indefinitely. As he was about to shout the next string of obscenities, Genji already pummeled out of bed. Once more, his voice failed him and his throat started itching, burning and bubbling - Otoha, or whatever her name may be, could have this wretched thing back. Both of them. Mikuni raised his fingners to his throat and pinched it, only to suck in a sharp breath of air, wincing at the mere touch. His skin was unusually pale, but around the stitches, and probably around his throat, it had to take on purple hues already - at this rate, he’d rival the stained glass windows in a few days.

His eye darted toward the figure on the floor, and shock rose to his face - he had heard him call his name, but even one open eyelid was enough to spot what he didn’t want to see. With less than amicable power, he weakly threw the first pillow that he could grab against Genji, or rather his exposed crotch. “Hogh dagh you!”, he mouthed, coughing, as his strained voice felt like it cut off his air supply to his hurting lungs instead. His insides felt as if they’d been rubbed raw, precisely opened up and unfathomably damaged, but the more he moved, the worse it felt. If he still had a stomach, he was ready to throw up its lining, or the organ itself - in fact, he gagged, audibly this time, and clutched his throat after, only to hiss in pain. Everything hurt, it was a foolish cycle to soothe himself. “Do Igh loo okai?”, Mikuni inquired instead, rolling his eye in the same sentence. Of course he was not - he felt like many things, all at once, but none of them would fall into the category of “okay” or “just fine”. Helpless, or at least hurt were much more fitting categories for his state of mind, and his body. In horror, he was staring at Genji, still, before he pressed himself onto his knees and sat upright in the bed. He looked down, onto his torso, only to discover himself to be exposed, now that the blanket slipped off. “Whagh did yoo do!”, he erratically demanded to know. This guys advice was not to be trusted, which was why he grabbed the blanket and pulled it around his body, covering the most important things, before he affixed it with a knot at the side of his hip. His everything hurt. Then, he got up and looked at the … thing on the floor, tossing him the second blanket. Mikuni got up, on wobbly legs - his broken ribs were definitely digging into some of his flesh, and he harshly hissed in pain. “I whill chow yoo.”, he mumbled as he walked over to Genji, expectantly looking at him, before averting his gaze and just standing there. “Ahnd don’d touccch me.”

Genji was met with a pillow he gracefully caught midair, though he soon enough used it as a view shield. Mikuni meanwhile yelled at him, or he tried at least. It was weird, Otoha didn't have problems talking, but then again, maybe her words didn't even pour out of that mouth. "I'm sorry!", he repeated again, looking at the upset figure in the bed. "Otoha has stitched you up as best as she could. Me too.", he tried to explain the situation and the bandage that lay around his shoulder and upper body, that was there to protect the wound on his back, told a tale as well. Otohas, or Mikunis body didn't get that treatment, but it seemed there was no need with no blood flowing, or only very little of it. Her stitches could use some practice, but that wasn't important right now, not at all in fact. He thought that Mikuni would be scared of him, terrified, but instead he seemed mad and maybe offended. It was odd and Genji didn't quite know how to react.

Mikuni started to drape himself in his blanket, only to toss Genji one too. He caught it out of the air too, did he want him to dress up with this? Weren't their gowns for the patients here somewhere maybe? Either way he only kind of held the blanket in place when he stood up. "You will... what?", he asked not understanding a word the vessel said, but he shook his head anyway. "Please, you should stay in bed... or do you rather want to sleep in your own? I could carry you there then... or... you'll wait a little until your better. I will bring to you whatever you need, but you should rest and heal up." Wow, talking so much in one go was nothing he was used to and it was exhausting. Genji was overwhelmed by the response he got from that priest and he backed away when he demanded not to be touched. Suddenly Genji wondered if Mikuni-no-Homare even knew what had happened and he remembered that there probably were corpses scattering the floor outside and if not that, spilled blood. "You... maybe shouldn't go out there...", he mumbled, but he wouldn't be able to stop him, after all he didn't want to hurt him again.

Mikuni had enough. He'd not die if he was honest, but at the same time, he also knew that he wouldn't achieve anything if he simply stayed around and watched Genji, who clearly was in the need of some new clothing. Like this, he couldn't offer him much, but he also was painfully aware that yesterdays robes weren't an option; by the time this ... thing had been done with him, they were nothing more than shreds and for a second he had to ask himself if it even had been yesterday or not. Had it? "I ond care!", he grumbled in return. What was he sorry for now? Genji could fuck right off to where he came from, that much was for sure, but ... Mikuni didn't want to be that mean. The transient vagabond had nowhere to go, and he, too, had to find elsewhere to be at some point. Those things eluded him right now, if only because he was occupied with intense pain, prickling at every strand of his nerves, as he sighed deeply, to get some air out of him. Strangely enough, it was less satisfactory than assumed. "Ahnd?", he slurred. "Ghenhi! Loo ad me!", he complained and pointed at his chest, at the large gash that had been sewn up, just like that. Mikuni furrowed his brows, not in anger, but anguish.

"Chow yoo! Cho ... ch-s-s-how yoo!", he angrily exclaimed, cluthing his throat. This thing hurt, and the moment he thought of drawing breath, he heard something whistling in his ear. Not once had he deserved something like this, but then again, he found himself facing the consequences of bringing an absolute stranger into his home. Mikuni was afraid, maybe not of Genji himself, but of that face of his, of the creature that lay dormant in his very body. That thing was awful, so much so that he even blamed Otoha for liking it, or rather wanting to meet it, but at the same time ... wasn't that just what his destiny entailed? For now, Mikuni dared to move and felt like his bones were crunching awfully with every step he took. Who knew? Genji might even be right about what he had said - bedrest was in order, but not now, and not here. "Noh. Geh ub, I'll ... mh.", he mumbled and gestured toward the door of the infirmary. He had questions, alright, but first, he needed something to write with and after that, he had to convince this ... thing to answer him. Still, the little, nagging voice of the stranger - the wolf in sheeps clothing - was getting to him. "Why ... wha's oud dhee?" Mikuni was curious, but actually, maybe he didn't want to know - even when he shambled toward the door.

Genji looked at the young man and his broken body. He was truly sorry about all of this and he also was sorry Otoha and him just snuggled together without taking Mikunis opinion into consideration. "I know you're hurt, so please, just lie down, until your body had time to heal. I won't bother you either, I will find another room to sleep in.", he proposed. He didn't intend to hurt him again, nor did he just want to leave him like that right now. He needed to be able to walk and talk normally first, for this Genji would have time before the curse poisoned his thoughts again. "Show me? You show me your room? No need, I will find it if you just direct me towards it. I'll bring you everything you need from in there, just stay here and lie down." Why would Mikuni need to show him his room? That was too much hassle for him. He needed to rest his body, not damage it more. Who knew how much longer it would take to heal? Genji wasn't even sure how much time has passed since he did all that.

"You'll...?", he asked since Mikuni didn't finish his sentence, but it seemed like he wanted to go already. On his own. Without Genjis help. This couldn't be good for the vessel, but he didn't dare shove him back into bed, or even stop him with force. He'd already done way too much to him. "It's... I...", Genji then began trying to explain, but he didn't know how. Should he flat out tell Mikuni that he killed everyone in here except him? It was kind of his family after all, wasn't it? It didn't matter if he wanted to leave this place before or not, they still cared for him for a while. "Please stop.", he told him once more and eventually brushed past Mikuni to quickly open the door, only to slip outside and close it again right away. Otoha told him he was delicate and not like them. This might be too much and that was why Genji leaned against the door, so it would stay shut too. Only then did he take a look himself. Strangely enough there weren't any corpses, but there was blood. Blood on the floors and the walls and on some places even on the ceiling.

This roach shambled away! Mikuni was never really sure if he should blindly trust people, but Genji was the worst of them. Untrustworthy, shambling and questionable - those things fit him well, and yet, he hardly could justify making such crude assumptions about someone he barely knew. Were they fighting? Trying to get one another to come together and understand their differences? What was it that the two of them were up to? Otoha surely knew, she wasn't the Revelation for nothing, but she also wasn't answering his requests, his words and pleas, his wishful thoughts - she was painfully silent, almost as if she had stopped existing. Had Genji taken her from him? Something was wrong. His eye wouldn't open, his insides felt like messed up goop and every single, unfortunate second that he spent on his feet was agonizing. Mikuni wanted to wash himself, clean this mess of a stitched wound - he needed better clothing than some sort of blanket. "Nho!", he complained. What was this idiot getting up to? There was plenty of room in the infirmary, but Mikuni ... he didn't want to stay here on his own, of all places - he wanted to either go back to his room, or have a roommate in this desolate place. "I wohd!", he yelped. He needed a feather, ink, and some parchment - now!

As fast as he could make his body walk, he did - the pain was already making sweat dribble from his forehead, holding him up in the worst possible seconds of his life, all the while he was stuck squinting at a naked guy that better dressed up soon. Before he could demand those things from him, he got up and ran past him; the door slammed shut behind him and Mikuni grated his teeth. What a ... no, no. This wasn't the time for superficial anger, for deluded thoughts, when they both had nobody but one another. The silence was eerie, even if his fellow priests were normally rather quiet, but their footsteps were missing from the sandy courtyard, and their giggling was gone, too - from this, he could figure what was going on, or rather, what had happened, but he didn't want to be disheartened. Not yet. Not when bile rose to his mouth the moment he remembered what happened to Seimei and what Genji had done to all of them, how he'd dragged him out of that closet, and ... no, now was not the time. His hands were soon fumbling with the door, instead of his thoughts, but it wouldn't budge. "Ghenhi! Led mh ou!", the priest yelled, forcing his entire weight against the door, in hopes of making it budge, even if it took all of his strength. "Leh me oud!"

Why was this priest so stubborn? Genji only wanted to help him, even though he was painfully aware, that he would never be able to help anyone. Still, he needed to rest, not run away and he needed to not see the bloody hallway either. He stood there, leaned against the door and felt the little pushes, that didn't need much strength to push against. The door wouldn't budge, at least for as long as he stood here, but that he couldn't forever. He truly wanted to bring him some clothes. Maybe some food and a bucket full of fresh water too. Did he need anything else? Probably not for now, besides rest and sleep. "Please... just...", Genji mumbled through the door, sliding down on it until he sat on the cold and dirty floor. He just wanted to protect the boy, at least for a while, then he would leave just like he wanted him to and just as he was supposed to. "Rest. Please. I'll bring you clothes and fresh water and food, or whatever else you need.", he told him again while he pulled his knees to his chest.

The longer that he stared at that hallway in front of him, the worse he felt. He did this, he didn't stop until Otoha had snapped him out of it and if Mikuni had been mortal, he'd be dead too. This place was big, he must have killed many and Otoha couldn't hide that from him, even though she seemed to have cleaned up around these halls. The shape of the bloodstains told him what had happened exactly. The drag marks showed him where the bodies went. He knew where they died and how, just by looking at what was left and he started to remember their faces too. The boy was still pushing, just like the curse used to do the same, only it was against his brain. "I don't want you to see this.", he told the priest and placed his head on his knees. "Everyone is... I'm sorry..." He had no excuse and a sorry didn't bring them back to live. What was he supposed to say in a situation like this? He didn't remember talking to other survivors...

The more strength he exerted, the worse it got. Mikuni wasn't making progress, he was simply fighting someone that didn't even have to lift his little finger to defeat him. In the end, it was shameful that he lost to a potential captor like that, that he couldn't even help himself out of his own misery, and that he bludgeoned his own body ever closer to death, the more he threw himself against the door, despite knowing his efforts were in vain. Why was he so weak? If only he were strong, like one of those knights that visited the monastery every few months, or even like Genji, who'd slain all those priests without blinking twice - strength, however, was reserved for real monsters and he knew that, as well as he knew himself. Mikuni grunted as the door wouldn't budge, no matter how hard he pried and pushed. What if Genji just went away? No, he'd go to his room and just get some stuff, and then he'd come back and potentially lock him in here, to avoid having to catch him, as he grappled with his thoughts of fleeing off the mountain, away from his home, away from the monster that had slain them all.

Mikuni banged his hand against the thick wood, only to hear the ghastly voice of a broken man, slowly seeping into his ears. He was a holy man, and he had open ears for all of those who struggled, and yet, he was the one who struggled the most, and the one that was making his own life not worth living if he didn't fight for himself in this particular moment - he didn't want to be perceived as a weak child that couldn't even fend for himself, but clearly, he was, in one way or another. "I wahn oud.", he sighed, bashing his forehead against the wood. Once, then twice, and then, after a third time, he stopped - he clearly didn't have any strength to fight someone like Genji, and he had nothing that he could advocate for in that case. The priest was sad, nothing more, and his composure - his anger - crumbled to pieces, consumed by sadness. "Leh me ouhd ...", he inconsistenly brabbled. This wasn't a place he wanted to be at, not alone, not with the guilt and the deaths of hundreds on his shoulders, simply because he couldn't do anything right. His nails were digging into the door, he scratched it, but soon enough sank to his knees. Was there any way to talk sense into Genji? "I dohnd cae ... leh me ouhd, please ..."