[ He craves the finality of resisting him. Subaru can tell in the way everything strains backwards in defiance of being known as a measure of being alive.
When Toji doesn't, it's a little like looking into a mirror that's been made wrong. Not of his own design, but of Subaru's. Looking into a mirror has so often yielded someone else's face looking back at him that he no longer expects anything different. Only his heart, unfortified by all the scars it should have had, knows the difference. Hokuto had given her life for it — and what rending differences they are. A life lived in confrontation, a life looking at the cruelties humanity wields and still always choosing it. He has always mourned alone, refusing the madness that should sanctify in him.
One must figure out how to live in order to truly die.
But it all came to an end anyway. Toji's life was ended this way. Subaru ended a life this way. This time, he surrenders the vast net of his heartache, gaze downcast. ]
So, it was your wife. [ "She" comes into clarity now, the ragged edges of shards reflecting in mosaic, its glass stained by the color of intuition. A suspicion seeps into his soul's edge at the mention of a child, peripheries clouding. If he reaches through, he's certain... ] Tell me your name.
[ there is a painful, jarring accuracy with which subaru makes his predictions. that he speaks not to only who is before him, but also to a ghost. surmising not that there was a woman, but a wife. and he is right, but both are generous estimations of him that toji himself would not make. he is someone who speaks plainly and without thought. he is someone who has women and very little else. toji can remember exactly the last time he met someone who seemed to know him better than he knew himself. she smiled a lot more than this, though.
he shuts his eyes.
before subaru has even finished asking the question, toji knows he will answer. it is a strange weight, this knowing, and also a strange freedom. ]
I took her name, when we married, [ he explains. his lips twitch with a reflexive smile, because he's never not smiled when he says this. ]
[ It's his greatest weakness made manifest by this very encounter, an overrunning of spiritual exploitation given to him by the will of the stars: Subaru knows others more than he knows himself. A crown jewel of exorcism, gentled of its expensive shine by empathy.
Expecting the answer doesn't make its hit land any softer, however. ]
It's Megumi. [ His composure lapses very slightly, almost as if it's left him short of breath. ] Megumi is your son.
[ Instantly, another kind of knowing lances through him. Megumi's skill in sorcery is surely not ordinary. Subaru sees it, even in this place that's uprooted and twisted all of their magic. Yet Fushiguro wasn't among the sorcery clans he'd shared with Subaru back in that first dream, a nascent nightmare.
Derision, the complexity of the word onmyouji on his tongue. To not inherit the magic but also to spurn the name...
Subaru leans back to look at him, expression suddenly unreadable. ]
Yeah, [ toji agrees plainly, looking away under the weight of subaru's scrutiny. the laugh that leaves him is derisive, but only towards himself. the is defeat in the roll of toji's shoulders, surrendering this match to subaru's irrepressible will. ]
But don't tell him that. Or anyone else, I guess. It'll only hurt him.
[ All of his further questions recede back from where they surged, calming under the influence of surrender. He's too armed in this conflict and reluctant to wield it against someone not fighting back. Finally, his posture breaks to finally take what's become the last drag of the cigarette that he's otherwise let burn to completion.
A forfeited name, the opposing ends of vast power. Toji hadn't lived for Megumi, necessarily, and still... ]
What do you plan to do? [ He exhales, not only for the smoke but to reorient. ] The nature of our connection here won't make it easy to hide for long.
Figured I'd give him as much peace as I can, then... let him hate me. [ he speaks as though he hasn't really thought that far, but all he's really done is think on this. how far to stay away from megumi, how much protection he can give. making threat assessments on this place, on its people, on all the things megumi refuses not to get right in the middle of. megumi must get that from gojo fucking satoru, something toji is equal parts grateful for and absolutely fucking furious with.
and then there's the fact that he can't seem to actually stay away from megumi no matter how he tries. that not an hour goes by where he doesn't wonder where megumi is or how he's doing. which is on some level fucking hilarious because he used to go days not sure what megumi was up to or if he was sleeping or even if he's eaten, all of it a haze of darkness and guilt and agony. being dead changes things, he supposes. everything he used to be died when he did. everything he was, all of the spite, all of the stubbornness, all of the ego and injustice and determination. he died standing before gojo satoru, and everything he was stopped mattering.
here, now, there's only megumi. toji didn't come back to life, only back into being. ]
Doesn't seem like anyone's figured out how to leave this place, so. When he does figure it out, whatever he wants to do with it is fine. But it'd be better for him if I wasn't here at all.
[ Peace and hatred walking the mirror's edge. Subaru would know a thing or two about that. Passing interactions he's seen in the melted pool of the Murmur's feeling make more sense now. If only that coalescence dealt and easier hand to him, to all of them.
He suspects, though, that this is by design. ]
You're here now, regardless of what's better.
[ Snubbing his cigarette out on the bench's armrest, he flicks it into the fountain and valiantly makes no face when it gurgles in response. ]
Ain't that the story of my fucking life, [ toji mutters at subaru's observation that he's here now, for better or worse. in his experience, it's usually worse.
usually, but not always.
here, standing at the end of it all, toji's almost certain it would've been better to have never known any kindness at all. at least, then, he wouldn't know quite so acutely all he had never had and all he had lost.
but of course, all of that is neither here nor there. ]
Of course I am, [ he answers to the actual question, straightening from his habitual slouch. ] Whether he likes it or not. How much success I have is a separate question.
[ this is punctuated with a bark of a laugh, because protecting megumi is all he's ever done outside of the brief dream that was megumi's mother, besides rage against the curse of being born at all. he just didn't have any capacity, any real leverage back then. he'd had nothing to offer his wife or his son except his own flesh and bone, a currency that the curse that took his wife would not tender and which the enemies of his son would not suffer.
he seems to have a little more capability here, comparatively. here, the systems are not stacked against them any more than any other sorry bastard. but so too here does megumi have others, and megumi is grown enough to look after himself.
all these thoughts flit in and out of toji's head as he flexes his hands, testing them, trying to make sure they're steady before letting go of his vice grip on himself. ]
I'm a monster, but not the kind that eats their young, [ he adds quietly, almost thoughtlessly. as though subaru isn't someone else, is as safe a place for his inner thoughts as the other side of a mirror. he would never do anything to hurt megumi. not like the men who raised him. sometimes he hurts megumi anyway, but that's just because he's a fucking failure. ]
[ Subaru has seen his fair share of monsters. Some are as they appear. Teeth, rage, will made manifest by scorn or sorrow. Some are simply chained to the place they died, unable to move on. And some wield nuance and the illusion of civility as a cloak, a shield with which to conceal a knife perfectly fit to exorcise a heart from where it lies tender in someone's chest.
In this moment, Subaru feels as if he knows this man and yet also can't fully detect the nature of the monster's shadow where it prowls in and out.
[ That pervasive thought has collateral when it shakes itself free, the dappling of grave-dirt somewhat cool where it ripples, smattered, along the broad weave of the Murmur's effort. Subaru wouldn't know what a conscious inclination to be better looks like. But he has a feeling he's going to find out. Knowing cords between them.
Tension wreathes the poise of his arms as if his first reflex is to catch the word love as soon as Toji tosses it at him. It tightens in his hands, softly. He had that one coming. ]
No, but it's what I've chosen to do. [ Confrontation leaves little room for him to be clandestine about his desires. ] It's just not all I've chosen to do here.
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no subject
When Toji doesn't, it's a little like looking into a mirror that's been made wrong. Not of his own design, but of Subaru's. Looking into a mirror has so often yielded someone else's face looking back at him that he no longer expects anything different. Only his heart, unfortified by all the scars it should have had, knows the difference. Hokuto had given her life for it — and what rending differences they are. A life lived in confrontation, a life looking at the cruelties humanity wields and still always choosing it. He has always mourned alone, refusing the madness that should sanctify in him.
One must figure out how to live in order to truly die.
But it all came to an end anyway. Toji's life was ended this way. Subaru ended a life this way. This time, he surrenders the vast net of his heartache, gaze downcast. ]
So, it was your wife. [ "She" comes into clarity now, the ragged edges of shards reflecting in mosaic, its glass stained by the color of intuition. A suspicion seeps into his soul's edge at the mention of a child, peripheries clouding. If he reaches through, he's certain... ] Tell me your name.
[ His whole name. ]
no subject
he shuts his eyes.
before subaru has even finished asking the question, toji knows he will answer. it is a strange weight, this knowing, and also a strange freedom. ]
I took her name, when we married, [ he explains. his lips twitch with a reflexive smile, because he's never not smiled when he says this. ]
Fushiguro. Fushiguro Toji.
no subject
Expecting the answer doesn't make its hit land any softer, however. ]
It's Megumi. [ His composure lapses very slightly, almost as if it's left him short of breath. ] Megumi is your son.
[ Instantly, another kind of knowing lances through him. Megumi's skill in sorcery is surely not ordinary. Subaru sees it, even in this place that's uprooted and twisted all of their magic. Yet Fushiguro wasn't among the sorcery clans he'd shared with Subaru back in that first dream, a nascent nightmare.
Derision, the complexity of the word onmyouji on his tongue. To not inherit the magic but also to spurn the name...
Subaru leans back to look at him, expression suddenly unreadable. ]
no subject
But don't tell him that. Or anyone else, I guess. It'll only hurt him.
no subject
A forfeited name, the opposing ends of vast power. Toji hadn't lived for Megumi, necessarily, and still... ]
What do you plan to do? [ He exhales, not only for the smoke but to reorient. ] The nature of our connection here won't make it easy to hide for long.
[ It's not a "no". ]
no subject
Figured I'd give him as much peace as I can, then... let him hate me. [ he speaks as though he hasn't really thought that far, but all he's really done is think on this. how far to stay away from megumi, how much protection he can give. making threat assessments on this place, on its people, on all the things megumi refuses not to get right in the middle of. megumi must get that from gojo fucking satoru, something toji is equal parts grateful for and absolutely fucking furious with.
and then there's the fact that he can't seem to actually stay away from megumi no matter how he tries. that not an hour goes by where he doesn't wonder where megumi is or how he's doing. which is on some level fucking hilarious because he used to go days not sure what megumi was up to or if he was sleeping or even if he's eaten, all of it a haze of darkness and guilt and agony. being dead changes things, he supposes. everything he used to be died when he did. everything he was, all of the spite, all of the stubbornness, all of the ego and injustice and determination. he died standing before gojo satoru, and everything he was stopped mattering.
here, now, there's only megumi. toji didn't come back to life, only back into being. ]
Doesn't seem like anyone's figured out how to leave this place, so. When he does figure it out, whatever he wants to do with it is fine. But it'd be better for him if I wasn't here at all.
no subject
He suspects, though, that this is by design. ]
You're here now, regardless of what's better.
[ Snubbing his cigarette out on the bench's armrest, he flicks it into the fountain and valiantly makes no face when it gurgles in response. ]
Are you going to protect him?
no subject
usually, but not always.
here, standing at the end of it all, toji's almost certain it would've been better to have never known any kindness at all. at least, then, he wouldn't know quite so acutely all he had never had and all he had lost.
but of course, all of that is neither here nor there. ]
Of course I am, [ he answers to the actual question, straightening from his habitual slouch. ] Whether he likes it or not. How much success I have is a separate question.
[ this is punctuated with a bark of a laugh, because protecting megumi is all he's ever done outside of the brief dream that was megumi's mother, besides rage against the curse of being born at all. he just didn't have any capacity, any real leverage back then. he'd had nothing to offer his wife or his son except his own flesh and bone, a currency that the curse that took his wife would not tender and which the enemies of his son would not suffer.
he seems to have a little more capability here, comparatively. here, the systems are not stacked against them any more than any other sorry bastard. but so too here does megumi have others, and megumi is grown enough to look after himself.
all these thoughts flit in and out of toji's head as he flexes his hands, testing them, trying to make sure they're steady before letting go of his vice grip on himself. ]
I'm a monster, but not the kind that eats their young, [ he adds quietly, almost thoughtlessly. as though subaru isn't someone else, is as safe a place for his inner thoughts as the other side of a mirror. he would never do anything to hurt megumi. not like the men who raised him. sometimes he hurts megumi anyway, but that's just because he's a fucking failure. ]
no subject
In this moment, Subaru feels as if he knows this man and yet also can't fully detect the nature of the monster's shadow where it prowls in and out.
It's just as well, he thinks. ]
I'll help you.
no subject
Yeah, I know.
[ because of course you fucking will. couldn't stop to save your own life. might keep going on purpose just to give it.
toji doesn't know if he recognizes that somewhere in the past or somewhere inside himself, and the sheer shock of that gives him pause.
there's a creeping, pervasive thought. he hasn't thought it in years. he buried it a lifetime ago, with all the good he's ever known.
it shakes off its grave dirt.
maybe you're no good, but you're getting better.
toji grimaces, then sighs, then cracks his neck. this is gonna fucking suck. he hates getting better. recovery is such a bitch. ]
Don't you already have your hands full? [ he goes on to ask, gesturing to his own eye to indicate subaru's blind one. ]
Can't be easy, loving a man like that.
no subject
Tension wreathes the poise of his arms as if his first reflex is to catch the word love as soon as Toji tosses it at him. It tightens in his hands, softly. He had that one coming. ]
No, but it's what I've chosen to do. [ Confrontation leaves little room for him to be clandestine about his desires. ] It's just not all I've chosen to do here.
[ That's the bit that's new to him. ]
I don't expect it to make sense to anyone.