[ rereading this thread is making me scream now thank you ]
That is as long as my lifespan, nearly. [ yin yu says, quietly, his expression softening for yasusada. he must have missed him terribly. ] Your master was in your other game with you...? Were you able to protect him?
[ it's odd to think of hua cheng being here. it just--it doesn't even compute. if hua cheng was here, he would've torn this place apart piece by piece, by now, if it kept him away from taizi dianxia. he was always like that, able to solve problems that were fantastically impossible for anyone else, built out of sheer determination, sometimes out of spite.
yin yu has always been one to recognize his own capabilities. compared to his master, him being here does not so much contribute to solving the problem. ]
It's more than half of mine. [And even at 550 years old, Yasusada's one of the younger swords in the Citadel. The youngest among them, to his knowledge, is one of his closest comrades.
How can he explain how proud he is, to have belonged to some of the last true samurai? He's one of the last swords to have been wielded in true battle; the guns, those cold, soulless weapons, had replaced them all after that. How can he describe the certainty he feels--the fact that he knows, more surely than he knows his own heart, that if Okita hadn't been consumed by his sickness, he would've held his sword with sure, warm hands until the very end?
Were you able to protect him?, Yin Yu asks, and it hurts, though Yin Yu can't possibly know that. But before Yasusada can answer, a memory does it for him, one that Yin Yu gets to experience straight from Yasusada's perspective. The anguish at his master's pain, the regret--and the relief, when Okita agrees (if not in so many words) to end his life himself.
Ah... perhaps he doesn't need to say it out loud, then. He presses his lips together, grip tightening on his sword, and looks down at the snow beneath their feet.]
...Executing me helped him complete one of his objectives. [He says, quietly, when he can speak again.] And all of us were brought back to life, in the castle. We got a happy ending, but it wasn't because of me.
he's silent for a long moment as the memory plays, processing it properly. yasusada...]
...Nevertheless, you truly served him to the very end. [ yin yu says, quietly, reflecting on the memory itself. yasusada did everything in his power for his master.
he wonders, briefly, if that will be the fate that awaits him too. he knows, logically, that if he were to leave this place, if he is to die at home, it will be for hua cheng. he cannot die yet because he has jobs to complete for him, tasks to manage, and... taizi dianxia, to protect. if taizi dianxia needed him to die for him, he would die for him in a heartbeat, with no hesitation.
in the end, yin yu is a replaceable tool, though. it's not about the bond he has with chengzhu. it's about the fact that he is no one; that his honed capabilities are useful to hua cheng, and will be useful to him until his death. so he understands... to a point, but yasusada has been cherished, well loved and well honored, and that is not something that yin yu has ever had. ] That still must have meant the world to you.
[ a beat, and then. ] The same thing happened at the island. To return us to those happier endings is paramount. [ even if he had no close connections like that--well, he had one, and that person still lives, walks among them at the camp, and the idea of something happening to her (again) terrifies him more than he'll ever admit--it is still the same. ] ...There is a long road ahead of us yet, Yasusada. This game that we play will have to be defeated for the good of us all.
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no subject
That is as long as my lifespan, nearly. [ yin yu says, quietly, his expression softening for yasusada. he must have missed him terribly. ] Your master was in your other game with you...? Were you able to protect him?
[ it's odd to think of hua cheng being here. it just--it doesn't even compute. if hua cheng was here, he would've torn this place apart piece by piece, by now, if it kept him away from taizi dianxia. he was always like that, able to solve problems that were fantastically impossible for anyone else, built out of sheer determination, sometimes out of spite.
yin yu has always been one to recognize his own capabilities. compared to his master, him being here does not so much contribute to solving the problem. ]
no subject
It's more than half of mine. [And even at 550 years old, Yasusada's one of the younger swords in the Citadel. The youngest among them, to his knowledge, is one of his closest comrades.
How can he explain how proud he is, to have belonged to some of the last true samurai? He's one of the last swords to have been wielded in true battle; the guns, those cold, soulless weapons, had replaced them all after that. How can he describe the certainty he feels--the fact that he knows, more surely than he knows his own heart, that if Okita hadn't been consumed by his sickness, he would've held his sword with sure, warm hands until the very end?
Were you able to protect him?, Yin Yu asks, and it hurts, though Yin Yu can't possibly know that. But before Yasusada can answer, a memory does it for him, one that Yin Yu gets to experience straight from Yasusada's perspective. The anguish at his master's pain, the regret--and the relief, when Okita agrees (if not in so many words) to end his life himself.
Ah... perhaps he doesn't need to say it out loud, then. He presses his lips together, grip tightening on his sword, and looks down at the snow beneath their feet.]
...Executing me helped him complete one of his objectives. [He says, quietly, when he can speak again.] And all of us were brought back to life, in the castle. We got a happy ending, but it wasn't because of me.
no subject
he's silent for a long moment as the memory plays, processing it properly. yasusada...]
...Nevertheless, you truly served him to the very end. [ yin yu says, quietly, reflecting on the memory itself. yasusada did everything in his power for his master.
he wonders, briefly, if that will be the fate that awaits him too. he knows, logically, that if he were to leave this place, if he is to die at home, it will be for hua cheng. he cannot die yet because he has jobs to complete for him, tasks to manage, and... taizi dianxia, to protect. if taizi dianxia needed him to die for him, he would die for him in a heartbeat, with no hesitation.
in the end, yin yu is a replaceable tool, though. it's not about the bond he has with chengzhu. it's about the fact that he is no one; that his honed capabilities are useful to hua cheng, and will be useful to him until his death. so he understands... to a point, but yasusada has been cherished, well loved and well honored, and that is not something that yin yu has ever had. ] That still must have meant the world to you.
[ a beat, and then. ] The same thing happened at the island. To return us to those happier endings is paramount. [ even if he had no close connections like that--well, he had one, and that person still lives, walks among them at the camp, and the idea of something happening to her (again) terrifies him more than he'll ever admit--it is still the same. ] ...There is a long road ahead of us yet, Yasusada. This game that we play will have to be defeated for the good of us all.