tunasub | closed - part deux

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korosensei+aguri

closed - part deux

[ It's less painful than he was expecting - that's his first thought. Hundreds - no, thousands of times, he's watched the life leave people's bodies, watched the light leave their eyes, and so he thought he had a good idea of what to expect. There was no fear or resignation as he laid there, surrounded by his students, the weight of Nagisa's body pushing down on his chest. Just the feeling of being tired, and an unusual sense of peace. They'd all come so far; they'd more than exceeded his expectations. He was proud. Terribly proud.

It happens so quickly that he hardly feels the knife piercing through. Yes, it's certainly less painful than he was expecting - physically. But there's a bittersweet ache in his heart that's not coming from any blade. The students are crying. This is goodbye.

And so it was.

Nothingness. Then, the feeling of drifting ashore, or perhaps being pulled, or being dizzy - it's difficult to describe, in no small part because he does not expect there to be anything to describe. There's grass pushing at his back again, orange light filtering through his eyelids. He feels small and light and numb. Ah, surely, this is a hallucination in his last moments, or perhaps he'll wake up and see fires burning and punishment waiting for him, as he no doubt deserves. But when he forces his eyes open with difficulty, all that's waiting for him is a familiar dusky sky, and a familiar mountainous horizon, and a familiar early-morning dewy haze. It's Kunigagaoka. There's no way he'd forget this sight.

There's been some kind of mistake. At first, he wonders if he somehow failed to die. When he climbs to his feet and notices that they are, in fact, feet, and finds himself swimming in a now-baggy graduation robe, he wonders if he really is hallucinating. The students are nowhere to be seen, but it appears a few hours have passed since they finally graduated from hiss classroom. None of it makes any sense. But the tranquility he felt earlier as he lay in his final moments hasn't left him yet. Inside, he thinks, he knows that it's over. It's not worth panicking about. He turns towards the dilapidated old school building. His fingers (fingers! so strange and new, suddenly) squeeze the fabric of that floppy old tie, finding the new tear in the fabric. Without putting much thought into it, he starts moving towards the classroom building, drawn towards it like a magnet. It's natural. It's the place where he belongs. The home he was given.

If he could, he'd like to see them just one more time. He doesn't dare hope for more than that. ]

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[ sorry, aguri, he was a very cheesy person on the inside the entire time... he had you fooled.

he can't help but tense up slightly at first, because he is rather nervous - he can feel his pulse fluttering in his neck like a little bird. Briefly, he ponders about why he can still even feel a pulse if he's dead - a trick of the mind? phantom pains? - but this very situation is nonsensical to begin with, and the problem can hardly hold his attention right now, anyway. Almost immediately, though, he relaxes, folding his arms around her smaller frame. He'd always watched her through that glass panel, and, later, in his dreams and memories, but he never thought he'd be able to hold her like this. His heart swells like it's going to burst.

Finally. ]

And you're short. Have you been eating properly? [ he teases, sounding teacherly, but it's breathless, affectionate; he can't resist the urge to press his face into her hair and breathe her in. His embrace tightens a fraction, as if she'll disappear again if he doesn't hold onto her strongly enough this time - though one gets the impression he's the one who'd fall over right about now if she wasn't holding him so tightly. ]

[ There's a very instinctive huff, and she very nearly retorts that while she was alive, her sister had made a point of asking nearly every day if all of her calories had gone to her chest.

But no, that's not worth mentioning, and she can tell he doesn't actually mean to mock her-- not when his breath stirs Aguri's hair (his breath, when neither of them ought to draw it anymore) and she can feel the softest pressure there. There's a sharp contrast to how it had felt when she'd been choking on her own blood in his trembling arms and now, when there's a peace beyond the knowledge of her death to be found where she is. ]

From how tightly you're holding me, [ she says finally, lightly, although her grip is likely more firm here-- ] I think you've wanted to touch me, too.

[ Reflexively, he makes a small, strangled "nyu" sound, which would undoubtedly look really silly coming out of him like this. Good thing she can't see his face like this. Better, since it also means she won't see him turn redder. Like she caught him in the middle of something... as if her statement wasn't patently obvious already. ]

T-that's... That goes without saying, doesn't it? [ Surely, she knew he'd cared about her, right? Maybe not. Back then, even he hadn't known what he was feeling - and the God of Death hadn't exactly been easy to read. He'd even said some callous things to her at the moment he gave the tentacles control. The realization causes a small pang of guilt, and he holds her a little closer unconsciously. Sorry.

Perhaps he should be more straightforward with her. But he's paralyzed by the idea. By nature, he's a weak man. He's afraid. And he doesn't want to act on his own feelings; he wants to respond to hers, even if he can't keep his arms from embracing her. (Weak, really! He'll blame the tentacles, absent or not...) ]

I think it's important to convey your feelings. Otherwise, people have to guess at how it is you feel, and they won't always guess correctly. [ Her class, for as much as she'd wanted to understand them, had never truly opened up to her, and she'd only been able to learn how they'd felt long after her death. Thanks to the adorably frazzled man currently holding her. ]

But we have time now. I finally have the time to get to understand you properly. And you have the time to tell me.

[ If he's willing to. Just this hug is enough for her, honestly. ]

Nngh... You're terrible, sensei.

[ isn't he supposed to be the one doing the teasing?! She probably doesn't even consider this teasing. She's just being her usual straightforward self. It works like a charm on him, predictably. If it's a request from her, he can't say no. Even if he feels like he's not qualified to speak these words - to want anything at all from her - he just can't. Not when she puts it like that. Besides, she's right - as she often is.

Korosensei has experience and know-how for almost every situation possible... except this one. He's quiet for a second or three, presumably trying to come up with the right cool line, or maybe the courage to pull back and look her in the eyes like a man. He fails on both counts. Cheek still resting on her hair, he takes a deep breath, exhales, and tries to speak his mind. ]

... I have. I wanted to touch you, too. I've wanted to hug you like this for a long time. I wanted to hold your hand... I wanted to steal you away from Yanagisawa. I wanted to talk with you for much, much longer. And after you were gone... I always found myself thinking about you, wondering what you would say or do if you saw me in that classroom. [ he feels his face growing redder and redder, and he's thankful that he's hiding it, but at the same time, the more he talks, the more the words start to tumble out. Now he feels like he can't stop himself. All the things he thought he'd never say to her, all the feelings he built up over two years, come crashing through the floodgates, and there's almost a sense of desperation in his voice. ] I -- wanted to be with you. Please forgive this selfish idiot octopus who didn't realize it until it was too late. I wanted to see you. I love you. I adore you!

[ it's all wrong - he didn't want to burden her with his feelings when he already cost her her life - but he can't stop himself, not when she's asking him so earnestly, not when he's almost certain she feels the same way, and especially not when she has a chance to reply, when she's actually here with him, by some miracle. he's simultaneously drained and elated, and, frankly, a little scared, and terribly embarrassed, and he's hiding in their embrace as if that will somehow disguise the feelings he just laid bare from her. ]

Edited 2016-06-04 23:53 (UTC)

[ Well. If he's red, Aguri's like the flaming-hot version of that, mouth opening slightly and then closing. Open, close. It's suddenly hard to breathe, which is absurd, because at the very basic level, she's past the point of needing to breathe. But she wasn't prepared for this, for him to pour everything out in a desperate rush, admitting things that she had only ever thought to herself or whispered to him through the barrier that had separated him.

She'd wanted to touch him. She'd wanted to hold his hand. She'd wanted more time with him, and the courage to turn to Yanagisawa and smile and say she could no longer walk beside him. She'd wanted more than their conversations always cut short, when they could stop talking only when they wished to. She'd wanted to know him, not just who he had been or what her fiancee had turned him into, but what he could be. What he was right now.

His words now shake her heart.

Aguri draws back, barely enough, but just enough to slip her hands between them and cradle his face. She may never be able to stop touching him, she acknowledges with a shaky smile at her own weakness and daring, stroking a trembling thumb along a cheekbone. ]

I'm not going anywhere. I won't leave you. You're still so clumsy and awkward, with so many flaws...

... But I love that about you.

[ Was that too much? He feels like that was probably too much. He didn't mean to - it just sort of happened, and... well, she started it! (Not very comforting.) Of course, it was all true; his feelings don't waver a bit, and he doesn't regret saying them. But it's surely not something that shinigami-san would have done. He's changed a lot. For the better, without a doubt - but, briefly, he wonders if he's become too brazen. Too honest - too much himself, really. He masked it all with a winning smile and a cynical nonchalance about life back then, when she knew him.

The worry is fleeting, though. Aguri had always seen him for exactly who he was. That was one of the most important things she'd given him - that way of looking at others. She'd passed it on to him, and he'd successfully used it to carry her students through that last year. The thought of them gives him some strength when she draws back. If they saw him being so chicken about this, of all things, after having every weapon imaginable pointed at him... The probably wouldn't be surprised, actually, but that's not the point. He lets his grip on her loosen, hesitantly peeking through his dark bangs at her expression. She's awfully close. He swallows.

Truthfully, he probably already knew that she felt this way - she wore her feelings on her sleeve, and he'd had plenty of practice reading the emotions of people. The difference was that those people had been his victims; Aguri was not, and so, he hadn't paid much attention at the time - not until it was too late, and after that, it felt blasphemous to assume her affections were more than friendly. Even though their students seemed to know better. Even though he knew better, too. It doesn't mean his heart doesn't swell at the confirmation, or that he doesn't feel the tingling sensation of nervous joy sweep through his body like sparks in his veins. He smiles, sheepish but adoring. He doesn't deserve this. He's dead now. He killed so many people. But he wants it so much that it hurts. If this is a test, he's going to fail. ]

Aguri... Is that backhanded confession really the best you can do? [ he pokes fun in a soft voice, but the words are flimsy and full of affection, resting on nothing; he's falling back on his safety net of smiling and teasing, because he can feel his heart beating a mile a minute and he's sure he'll start blurting out something stupid again in a half-second if he's not careful. He doesn't want to ruin it. She says she's not leaving, but this has to be too good to be true, right? Her hands feel cool against his burning cheeks; he leans into them, gently bumping his forehead against hers. This moment - the early morning in his favorite room on Earth, the peaceful knowledge that his students have succeeded, her blushing face as she returns his feelings - he won't forget it. ] ... Thank you. I don't deserve someone like you, but I... Thank you.

Edited 2016-06-22 05:35 (UTC)

[ There's a time and a place to be brazen, too honest-- but not for him, not for someone who's carefully tucked away the non-lethal aspects of his personality in favor of being a shinigami. Aguri had seen those aspects emerge slowly, had coaxed them out almost without realizing it, and she wouldn't have dreamed of ever telling him to rein them back in. Not when he hadn't allowed himself that sort of freedom for most of his life. One year compared to that-- it wasn't much.

He's still so fragile.

It's an amusing thought, when she knows the man whose face is burning her palms has killed more people than she could dream of counting. But here, being candid and open and honest with feelings, she has the most experience-- the advantage. Which doesn't really make Aguri feel any less overwhelmed or any braver. She's just as flustered as he is, breath catching just slightly in her throat when their foreheads touch but her thumbs continue to learn the solid lines of his cheekbones. ]

Thank you. [ She'll just protest his remark mildly. ] For seeing me.

[ Not too late. Not this time. ]

[ he sort of expected her to reply with something like that; he knows she'll never stand for him talking about himself like this, even though she knows exactly the kind of person he is. She knows, and she's still willing to stand so close to him, to hold him; she wants to. Just like his students, who did everything in their power to try and save his life despite knowing that he'd dashed a thousand others against the rocks. He's so flawed. But she loves that about him. His chest aches like a second knife is being driven through it; he doesn't fight it ths time, either.

Her words are still sinking in. She loves him. Finally, they can touch. They're both dead - he's dead - but he's not mourning, he's peaceful. It's all strange, and a little sad, but it's wonderful, too. He hears her, but he can only respond with a short laugh under his breath, gently closing his eyes to let himself feel her touch. And... because his gaze keeps wandering towards her lips, and he doesn't trust himself. ]

Of course. [ he could make another quip, but he can't bring himself to this time. ] ... If you make me much happier than this, sensei, I won't know what to do. I'm afraid that I'm going to suddenly wake up from this dream. I wouldn't have guessed that a dead man could be afraid of something like that.

That does seem a little silly for a Shinigami to be worried about. Or anyone, really. [ But she can understand that concern. Finding happiness after death? A sort of consciousness and a mutual understanding? Things that she hadn't even dreamed of while she'd been alive, and now here they are, finally facing each other in a way they hadn't been able to do while the both of them had drawn breath on opposite sides of the glass.

Aguri's peaceful now, though. Like this... everything will be fine, and their students will continue to move forward confidently. ]

... Should I pinch you, so you know that there isn't a chance of this being a dream?

[ WOULD THAT HELP? She's only about 23% serious, though. ]

[ it's strange being called Shinigami again. If it was anyone else but her, he'd ask them to stop, but coming from her, it's different - it's just his name. The name she chooses to call him. A pet name, almost. Hearing it from her is nostalgic. He cracks an eye open, smiling wryly. ]

Actually, that might help. Please do.

[ she may only be 23% serious, but he's devolved into his real goofball self over the course of this one year, and so, he's turning his cheek towards her a bit for her to pinch it... sorry, Aguri.

and, honestly, part of him feels like he needs to be pinched right now, as much of a joke as it is. ]

All right then--! Prepare yourself!

[ Aguri, don't clench your hand into a fist--

But that's okay, because she'll just lean in for the strike and-- land one right there. By which we mean a kiss on his cheek instead, because Aguri does what she wants. ]

Edited 2016-07-18 23:41 (UTC)

[ he probably should have expected this, but he totally didn't. He totally freezes up. Because, even with his feelings completely laid out before her, his life behind him, and an unknowable void ahead of the two of them, he's as smitten and uncertain as a kid with a crush. Hugging her or even just holding her hand had been a dream he'd never achieve - anything beyond that was downright fantasy, and he hadn't ever really entertained it.

Yet here he is. He turns beet red, and is silent for a few solid seconds, staring at the ground. Then, a swallow. ]

... Um. I didn't quite feel that, so maybe you should try it one more time, [ he says, lying outrageously. ]

W-what? But you're turning so red!

[ What does he mean, he didn't quite feel that? That took a lot of daring, and now she has to take a deep breath and muster her gumption all over again, and--

... It'll take her a few minutes. ]

[ this is what he gets for trying to be cool about this. More embarrassment!! Maybe Aguri's not experienced with this kind of thing. Not that he's one to talk. Part of being the world's best assassin meant beating out assassins like Irina, too, so it's not like he hasn't charmed or been with a woman before, but -- but it's different when it's her. This time, he's actually trying. Maybe he's not experienced, either. He flinches slightly when he comments on his blushing. ]

O-obviously...! That's not what I meant, Sensei... [ he mumbles. He's dead, but he's pretty sure he can feel his heart fluttering with nervous excitement, spreading through every vein, somehow. Then again, he could just feel Aguri kiss him a second ago, too. That spot on his cheek is still burning. The feeling possesses him; he lets go of her only to cup her face with both hands after a moment of awkward hesitation and lean in. But, once again, his bravery wavers, and his lips brush the space beside hers instead, humble and sweet. ]

[ This is what happens when you have two adult individuals who absolutely fail at being suave, and can't just kiss each other with the fierce intensity of sucking out one's soul that Nagisa's demonstrated flawlessly (her poor, poor little sister).

In Aguri's defense, though, she'd had a fiancee she'd never really felt like kissing, and he'd been even more reluctant to show any form of affection other than false smiles in the public eye.

But this is too much. Her face is burning red, he's still blushing, and neither one of them has managed to actually kiss each other properly-- so he may still have her face hostage, but Aguri's going to reach for his tie and hold him there to kiss him. Mouth-to-mouth.

There. ]

[ even if he'd ended up getting cold feet and going for her cheek, too, he'd been hoping he'd be able to at least embarrass her in return a little bit. Then he'd be a little bit more in his element. Really, his emotions just got the better of him faster than he could reel them in, but at least that would make a good excuse in case she didn't want to -- well, she'd started it, but maybe she'd be uncomfortable if it came from him -- maybe this wasn't the time, or she was nervous, or maybe -- so many maybes, he's so nervous around her. Then he feels a tug about his neck and suddenly she's kissing him herself.

This woman definitely could have killed him.

His eyes snap open in surprise for a moment, but only a moment, and then he's kissing her back and closing them once more as if slipping into a dream. Because this really has to be one; this is just too self-indulgent. But her lips feel so real that he doesn't even care anymore. His hesitation gives way to gentleness as he returns her affection, softly, slowly, carving the sensation of her kiss in his memories - whether this is real or not, whether he's dead or alive, it doesn't matter. She meant more than the world to him. Her clear gaze, her true heart, her passion for teaching, her stupid, stupid t-shirts - he loves her so much that he can feel it aching in his fingertips. If he can be here with her - if she's happy with him - if he could transmit that feeling to her - that's all he could ever wish for.

After a long moment or two, he breaks away just enough to take a breath. But, before he knows it, he finds himself smiling, a giddy feeling bubbling up in him as if to spite his earlier somberness. His hands slip from her face to her back and waist, and, in that cheesy manner that seems so natural to him, he dips her like a movie star, leaning into kiss her one more time with a playful chuckle in his throat. ]

[ Perhaps it had been for the best that Aguri had died before they'd acted on any of the impulse they've both apparently been feeling for some time now, because she really wouldn't have wanted to kill him prematurely. Or at all, but thankfully... it's not something she's thinking about right now. Not when he's kissing her back, and it's nothing perfunctory or unfeeling, it's soft and careful and warm and everything she's never let herself want.

Until now.

When he breaks away with that smile, and her chest grows warm, Aguri opens her mouth-- and nothing emerges except for a startled laugh when the view tilts and she finds herself suspended in his arms. So he's found his confidence again, and Aguri couldn't be happier for it. For this, honestly, for a moment between the two of them where there's absolutely nothing separating them this time. ]

You're... not bad... [ she finally manages, like she wasn't just left pleasantly dazed and thoroughly kissed. ]

I'd be happy to teach you my technique, [ he replies cheekily, though he seems a bit dazed, himself. He can't believe he just did that. It feels a little blasphemous, almost - she'd been some far-off memory to him for most of the past year (thought never too far, of course.) An unfulfilled dream; an idol to live up to. Standing before her again, though, and this time with no wall, he quickly remembered that she was also just a person. A woman. His friend - his very first and best friend. If she was all right with him, if she wanted him, too, then -- why not? There's no regret in his disbelief this time - just a pleasant, fluttering feeling of "finally."

If he can call it that. They are dead. He lets himself slip away from her a little, finally returning some of her personal space, although he can't help but keep his hands linked in hers. He is dead, and that's why they're standing here together in this classroom now. What inappropriate behavior for two teachers, he thinks dryly, but the thought floats away as soon as it comes. It's easy for him to get swept away by his feelings for her (as Karma found out last month), but reality is sinking back in again. The sadness is still there. More prominent, however, is the uncertainty. The contrast between the joy of having his feelings returned at last and the ominous void of death looming in front of him is enough to make his head swim. His expression sobers up just slightly, and he looks her in the eyes, quite serious. ]

... Can we stay like this, Aguri? [ are they going to disappear? the question is earnest, which is rather unusual, coming from the man who seems to know everything. ]

[ Inappropriate behavior, he believes, when he'd had people like Irina teaching his students how to french-kiss victims (like her little sister) into submission.

Not that Aguri's even thinking about that, because she'd had a feeling this particular topic would be shoving on his shoulders sooner or later. For all of his smoothness and confidence in many, many subjects, he tends to worry more than he lets on. And here, at least, she can once again be his teacher-- a rare thing, definitely, but it's happened. ]

What happens next is entirely your choice. [ She'll just put that up there first, her own expression taking on the same level of seriousness. ] When we die, we're given the option to move on... or to stay, to watch over those we left behind, even if we can't interact with them or influence them.

... I'd already decided that I wanted to witness what happened, to watch over you and those children. If you want to remain... I'll be here.

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closed - part deux

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