[ The crash of the barricade giving way jolts through Toshi's psyche, the door groaning open on rusted hinges drawing tense muscles tauter still. Even the brief flash of light, the dim-lit halls of the belly of the ship, before Subaru slams it shut makes him turn his head with a grimace, thrusting one hand up to shield against the pain. His eyes glint bright red in the far corner of the cramped hold. His black hair bleeds white as Subaru's own aura fills the space between them.
It is so warm and rich that it makes his mouth dry, his very joints aching with want for the source of that overwhelming reprieve. There is an ocean before him of something healing, a shield, a sanctity, a salvation. It is divine and it is empty, hollowed out, a temple enshrining only memories.
Shuddering, he sways, nails clawing shallow grooves into the floor planks. He tries to speak, to order the interloper to leave, but the air leaves his lungs as nothing more than hoarse gasp.
The air itself is sickly sweet, Toshi drowning in honey and rot. He fumbles for his sword on instinct alone, but his hand closes on empty air. He doesn't have them. Why doesn't he have them. There is a distant, vanishing memory of pressing them into awaiting hands, the fading knowledge that they are too dangerous to keep on his person.
That understanding, that knowing disappears in an instant, like the whip of a broken cord. A rasping roar tears from his throat as he lurches forward, pushing off the wall with every ounce of strength in him. The board cracks under the force, and he is upon Subaru in a single breath. There is no thought, no lingering sanity. It has been too long, and Toshi's very sense of self vanishes into his overwhelming thirst. ]
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It is so warm and rich that it makes his mouth dry, his very joints aching with want for the source of that overwhelming reprieve. There is an ocean before him of something healing, a shield, a sanctity, a salvation. It is divine and it is empty, hollowed out, a temple enshrining only memories.
Shuddering, he sways, nails clawing shallow grooves into the floor planks. He tries to speak, to order the interloper to leave, but the air leaves his lungs as nothing more than hoarse gasp.
The air itself is sickly sweet, Toshi drowning in honey and rot. He fumbles for his sword on instinct alone, but his hand closes on empty air. He doesn't have them. Why doesn't he have them. There is a distant, vanishing memory of pressing them into awaiting hands, the fading knowledge that they are too dangerous to keep on his person.
That understanding, that knowing disappears in an instant, like the whip of a broken cord. A rasping roar tears from his throat as he lurches forward, pushing off the wall with every ounce of strength in him. The board cracks under the force, and he is upon Subaru in a single breath. There is no thought, no lingering sanity. It has been too long, and Toshi's very sense of self vanishes into his overwhelming thirst. ]