All that I am

[likethelight]

Who: Allen Walker and Shouto Todoroki with guest appearances by The Fourteenth...
What: September Paleblood effects, and getting trapped in a version of Allen's horrific world and life for a time courtesy of a cursed book/the Absolute Immersion prompt 🙂 Many CW for mentions and flashbacks of Allen's very abusive childhood. also red light districts. (to date: pet death/abuse, child abuse, suicidal impulses of a child)
When: Later September
Where: Their house, and then Victorian England sorta


[ When Shouto had become blind, it had been Allen who fret and fussed more than he needed to. Hovering by his side and always ready to take his arm and steer him gently this way or that, explaining whatever the goings-on were with an animated chatter born first from concern and then increasingly just out of enjoying conversing so later on. Describing the world and especially the people around them like someone reading a particularly good story aloud might and getting caught up in it with an actual delight.

It wasn't so bad for him after all, he'd say, since he lost first his sense of taste (that was insulting but something he dealt with just by pouting at dinnertime) and then touch. Annoyances more than anything, nothing that bad. Touch bothered him more than he thought it would, leaving him staring down at his hands with an unsettled expression from time to time when he thought no one was looking, but he tried to avoid letting that on.

When Allen lost his sense of sight, he became almost unsettlingly... quiet, actually. Not complaining even a little. But off, perpetually distracted and a little jumpy at the slightest noise or sense of movement. With it ironically around the same time Shouto finally regained his own vision. Something he expressed relief for -- it'd be rather silly and unfortunate for them to both lose their sense of sight at the same time, wouldn't it? -- but that was a little hollow too.

Whether Shouto thought to read to him or it happened by accident when Allen was half-dozing near him one day when he asked him out of bored senseless curiosity what he was reading, it was one of the few things that made him perk up. Even if he usually dozed off on him, it was comfortably and amicably so and eased a lot of his restlessness. Something he started to look forward to and ask him a little more eagerly each time what he was reading that day.

Today, he wrinkled his nose at the smell of this new book when he came back with it. Musty and old, and something that just... unsettled him on some very deep, instinctive level. Like if black magic had a smell. Easy enough to pass off at the explanation it was handed to him from someone in Gaze offering free books to passerby, everything there was a little weird and derelict, and the explanation it was a story (apparently) about an exorcist who saved souls was enough to both baffle and intrigue him. Weirdly... spot on, wasn't that? But curiosity alone was a good enough reason for him to shelve any misgivings and settle in, leaning his chin on his shoulder and peering over like he was actually trying to peek at the pages he couldn't see. Also, Shouto's monotone could put anyone at ease (and to sleep). Allen's disarmed and lulled off pretty quickly, relaxing as the tale begins and meanders vaguely around a nameless boy who loved too much. Who was thrown at odds against the home he had always known first for wanting to save those they wanted him to destroy, and then for finding out he was fated to become their enemy and the very thing that would destroy them and the world.

Allen stops dozing off and becomes very awake. Very quiet, and very still.

Shouto can get to the part where the boy says goodbye and leaves in order to keep his home safe, and that's when Allen will fumble for his hand. Grasping his wrist tightly with alarmed urgency. ]

Shouto. [ It's laced with a strange sort of fear, a rising panic. Stop reading.

It's also too late.

Reality... warps. Uncomfortably so, like vertigo but pulling your soul inside-out instead of your stomach. It feels like falling. Falling forward into freefall, which... is accurate. At first it feels like falling into a vacuum, and then the wind is quickly rushing past their ears. They burst through what feels like a thin glass pane of light that shatters harmlessly around them and melt away, geometric patterns in the sky, and the air is crisp and cold; the first kiss of winter, and for the first time smelling clean and entirely without the odor of blood, decay, and industry that clings to Trench. Into the middle of a city park, rows of brick Victorian buildings lining the sides of it with a clocktower and castle in the distance.

They're also about fifty feet up in the air, upside-down and in rapid freefall. ]

Comments

[swellter]

[ He goes completely still at the question, the heat vanishing one moment to the next. Kizu?! he calls out but where there was once an exuberant presence there's only a void now. Even his chest feels light. Empty.

Kizu! What's wrong?! Very real fear starts to creep into his mind and he whips his head around in search of her. ]

Kizu?!

[ He calls out, growing cold as a vast emptiness lays itself before him. He clutches onto Allen no longer offering reassurance but needing it. ]

Where are they?!

[likethelight]

[ She's not there, is she. Even before Timcanpy was his omen Allen would have a sixth sense about him because of the intangible kind of bond they had, and that was only made literal and obvious when he was reborn as a part of him. This sort of emptiness, only once before did he feel it...

Shouto becomes distressed and Allen just goes calm, even if inside his stomach churning in dread. Be on guard. He swallows, leaning closer and entwining their arms to grasp his hand in return and be a more stable presence, even if his own nerves feel anything but. He doesn't need to see Shouto's expression to understand what he's feeling; these days he's been blind, it's almost been easier to understand in a way because of this. ]

This is... beyond them. [ Sealing magic? Except it doesn't feel like they've been walled off, not like when sorcery has sealed off abilities of his. Tim is just... gone. It feels like having lost a fragment of himself; a piece missing.

He stirs, restless and feeling exposed. Glances nervously about even as he tamps his nerves down and can't see anything more than smudges of light and dark. ]

What's around us? [ He hates this, not being able to see, but he gives a small tug on Shouto's hand. Stay together, stay with him. ] It feels cold.

[ And yet-- ]

I think I see... [ he breathes in, realizing he can see outlines in the distance but finding no comfort in the returning sight ] ...trees.

[swellter]

[ He keeps searching the area, growing cold with every moment that passes. Where is she?! Dread starts to set in and that emptiness in his chest starts to grow heavy with panic. He's felt this before, in the nightmare world, when he thought the demon destroyed her and she vanished from the world. He had Allen back then too.

What's around us? He looks to Allen, the calm in the storm, and forces his thoughts to lay still. She was waiting back in Trench the last time. He tells himself. We got transported to another world. If she isn't here then she's waiting there. He reasons out, calming the rising panic before it gains a foothold. We just need to get back.

The tug draws him back to his question and he takes a second look around, no longer so tense, yet that initial alarm lingers in his system making him jittery. ]

Trees. And people.

[ He draws up behind him, closing the distance between them. If he means to protect him or seek something else out, it's lost in words. ]

Wait. You can see them?

[ He swiftly looks down at Allen, surprise evident in his expression. ]

[likethelight]

[ People? Allen stiffens at that because that could mean so many different things, but glances back at Shouto at his surprised question. This time his eyes focus on him, albeit briefly before unfocusing again. Back and forth.

He breathes out, visible as white mist in the winter air, a little shaky as he finds himself so relieved to be able to see his face -- even if that relief is cut short by the moment. He squeezes his hand gently, giving a nod. There's a tremble in his hand though, trying to repress the shivers from the cold air and Shouto himself seeping in. ]

Kind of... [ He hooks their fingers together; a small, reassuring and needing to be reassured offhand gesture. ]

It's coming back to me.

[swellter]

[ He stopped emitting the cold that washed through him when he first realized Kizu was gone, but it'll take some time to get back to neutral while not actively aware of it. However, Allen shivering while lacing their fingers together gets the point across rather quickly! ]

You're cold.

[ He takes a second look at himself and activates his left side while smothering his hands with the heat now radiating off of him. ]

Give it time.

1/2

[likethelight]

[ Oh. ]

_{Ah, thanks.} [ Don't mind if he brings their hands up to his face, like one might blow on their hands to warm them in winter except here it's the opposite. He squeezes Shouto's hands lightly in gratitude, mouth pressed lightly to his own knuckle to help keep the heat trapped as his gaze darts around. ]

I think it's... winter. [ That much he got from the scent and the cold, although it's becoming obvious the trees are barren of leaves. This is later in the season than it was in Trench. Deep winter, like February in the north. He blinks rapidly a few times as if that might facilitate his sight coming back quicker, but as it does... the feeling of uneasiness only grows. ]

It feels familiar, somehow...

[ Like I've been here... ]

2/2

[likethelight]

[ ...before.

He trails off, staring at a nearby tree. One of the few not lining the edges. At where the mark is carved into it, and he looks like someone haunted as he blinks, stares, and then blinks again as it starts to come into focus.

A mark carved on a tree, this winter scent...

He drops Shouto's hands and, without saying a word, bolts to that tree without a care at all that he might as well be barefoot on frozen ground. Stumbles, not having his depth perception yet, and doesn't care at all about that either. ]

[swellter]

[ He steps closer to Allen, and lets himself grow warm, cocooning him in a gentle heat to chase off the cold.

Familiar? He looks past him, noticing the half-melted crystalline tower. I should get rid of that. Soon, once he warms up Allen and figures out where they are. Though Allen seems to have an idea if his statement is anything to go by.

Trench had a tendency to open up portals to other worlds. Usually random from his experience. Not always. He thinks remembering a time or two he'd run into someone who recognized the world on the other side. ]

Allen. Do you recognize this place?

[ A question he barely gets out before something catches his attention and he takes off running - half-blind - stumbling toward a tree. ]

What's wrong?!

[ He yells after him, before he too runs after him, worry creeping back into his thoughts. Does he know this place? ]

[likethelight]

[ They really should get rid of that tower, it's caught the attention of some people on the street as they stop to point and murmur. A tree? No, it looks like ice... Surely there was no such sculpture there before, there's not even any snow. They're too uneasy to approach and Allen and Shouto escape notice, but it won't be long until someone flags down a constable and they come to check it out.

Allen, however, isn't considering any of that yet. A year ago he might not have recognized that tree on sight because it had been so long, but it and this scene, this whole scene, even down to the chill wind and the smell...

He stumbles against the tree, palms flat against it to stop his momentum and to either side of the lettering carved into the trunk. It's weathered and old, at least a decade. His fingers tremble lightly, as even with his dimmed sight it's impossible not to see it clearly this close up, and his eyes drop to the ground at his feet. Compacted and still no grass that grows by these roots.

Why am I back here. Why did that book... know things... ]

This is... Edinburgh. Scotland. [ His voice is low, hoarse and cracking slightly. Eyes dilated with a surreal, creeping kind of horror.

He shakes his head slightly, hearing Shouto approaching, but stares down at the ground underfoot still like he's found a ghost there. I needed to check to confirm before, but... I don't need to now. ]

My Edinburgh.

[swellter]

[ The tower is left forgotten, his attention solely on his companion who falls into an internal stupor that ratches up his worry. Allen...? Concern mars his mouth and he draws up behind him. He sets a hand on his shoulder, needing that solid point of contact, as much as it is for Allen.

He lets him parse through his thoughts without pushing him to explain and patiently waits for his return while he examines the odd carving on the tree. It's not a symbol he recognizes. It reminds him of ancient script, yet completely different. From another world.

My Edinburgh.

This is... your world? He recognizes the name even the city - even if he hasn't been there himself. Still, that's another Scotland. The one from his world, this... He looks around, taking a second look at that horse-drawn carriage. ]

Allen. [ It hits him then. ] Are we in your world?

CW: animal death and abuse, child suicidal impulses, etc

[likethelight]

[ The hand on his shoulder helps reel his thoughts back in, and he glances back at Shouto with a look that's worried and apologetic both. Uneasy, but giving a hesitant nod at his question. I can't explain how, if this is just some kind of illusion that's been cast, something cracking open his memories to be shared, or if this is real, but... ]

Yes. [ His chin tips back, and he says it like someone might say "I'm sorry". But to Shouto... that might start to sound distant. Like his voice is fading away. Echoing. Ringing. Becoming distant. Everything all at once. Vision blurring at the edges, like he's starting to black out. Like how his Precognition might pull on his mind's eye, but the reverse.

You should watch where you step, after all. Consider the ground under your feet, who else might have once walked there. The imprints they might have left behind-- Especially when while the power of their paleblood might be waning in this place, what was already crystallized into stone worn on their ears still retains its powers... And Allen's that Shouto wears retains his -- echoing now with his own memories.

And his own footprints. ]

This is the last place I remember being. [ "This is the place where 'Allen' began."

It echoes in double for a moment, and Allen's own face blurs momentarily with itself, one looking at Shouto with concern and the other speaking with a strange kind of calm serenity. Like another has superimposed itself--like a ghost of himself is speaking with him. And then everything twists and goes dark. Silent.

And then it starts to snow.

It's night now, and the world would feel a little distorted. Like trying to peer through a fisheye lens, and Allen is no longer there. Circus tents in red and white are set up around them, but it's eerily quiet with no sign of life despite all the lights being lit. No sign of life... save for one. A small, rail thin child weaving unsteadily closer, carrying a wrapped bundle of some sort in his arms. His eyes are entirely vacant and he looks half dead himself, like a soulless husk moving. Paws stick out from under the blanket, stiff with rigor mortis.

He falls to his knees at the base of the tree and begins to scoop the frozen ground aside, painfully slowly but it's also loose like it was already used as a grave before. The tree is the same as the one Shouto would remember standing in front of, just maybe a little thinner -- and the mark that was carved in it looks fresh now. The boy's hair is a light ginger red, his eyes grey -- and his left hand gnarled and scarlet red like a devil's. Clumsy, not able to move his fingers and using it like a shovel. Not quite like Allen's, whose hand is armored but delicate, and this one is lumpy and wrinkled.

But there is the same, familiar crystalline cross embedded in the back of it.

After a time, he sets the dog down in the shallow grave and begins to cover it back up, taking his time in a heavy but loving way. It's a small and delicate-bodied beagle, wearing a colorful ruffled collar like a clown might, but is mangled and its fur messed in a way like it was beaten. He stops before he covers its head up though. ]

Now sleep well, Allen... [ The child's voice is thin and cracks, his hair hanging messily down around his face and framing the faint, broken twist of a smile he has. One that should be familiar to Shouto, as it's one such disconnected sort of one like Allen's had several times before. ]

I'm sorry I got you two into this... you and Mana. [ What little composure he had seems to waver though, and he hiccups, falling forward over the grave. ]

I don't even understand anything. I... not even... [ He hiccups again, the sobbing louder and more obvious even as his hair blocks the tears. ] ... When I came to they'd all disappeared. Cosimo, and the ringleader... all of them...

[ His right hand clenches into the dirt, balling up and digging marks into it. The left remains useless and clublike, though it twitches like he wants to do the same with it. ]

I'm a monster. That's why my parents gave me up. I... I hurt people. [ He stutters over it, like it's something he's just coming to terms with. ] And Mana.

[ At that name he chokes, eyes wild at whatever he's recalling, and tears pour in freefall down his face as doubles over and bawls. Broken sobs come freely now, wracking his small frame like convulsions. ]

I have nowhere to go... [ He trembles, fist balling tighter, but it's hard to tell if it's with rage or disgust. ] ...because I don't deserve it.

[ He continues to sob for a moment, but starts to calm and get his breath back. Like that just set something straight in his head. I don't deserve it... because I don't deserve anything. He collects himself enough to finish burying the dog -- to finish burying "Allen" -- and sets a small rubber ball he had carried with him in the blanket on top like a marker, green with bright yellow stars. It'd be easy to think the child was doing better, that he had cried out what he needed to. He's moving less woodenly than before, soft and quiet movements. Composed, like he's made his mind up about what to do.

He lies down in the snow then.

Next to the dog's grave, curled up next to it like someone would curl up next to someone to sleep. But the snow is still falling and his clothes are far too thin and worn to tatters for him to even to be out in the cold, let alone sleeping in it. He just stares at the ball on the grave next to him though, with a calm sort of acceptance and sorrow as tears continue to leak and trick silently down his face. They begin to freeze after a time, ice forming on his skin, but he doesn't care. The snow begins to collect on him and no longer melt, and he still doesn't move or care. Growing more still and cold -- like the dog.

He falls asleep like that, at peace finally with frozen tears, and finds it such an easy thing to do. Like it's something he should have done far sooner. ]

Poor Apostle... [ It's a much deeper voice approaching from behind; a man's voice, mellow and melodic. ] You want to die like this.

[ If Shouto tries to turn to look, he'll find he can't seem to. The man is impossible to behold, leaving the impression only of a very tall and regal shadowed silhouette. Strong shoulders held back like they bear the weight of wings. ]

But one who possesses such compatibility won't die like that.

[ Everything fades to black, and only then will Shouto find himself suddenly snapping back to reality with a nauseating intensity. ]

[swellter]

[ I'm sorry...

Like an invocation of old, his voice sweeps him away to another time. Another place. It starts with a faint ringing in his ear, soft and light; melodic in nature. The notes activate the bloodstone embedded in the cuff of his earring, and he's swept along a familiar path that soon plunges him into the unknown.

He goes very still, eyes open to the world unfolding before him, and at the edge of the vision, Allen's face blurs with another as snowfall covers the canvas. Circus tents rise above the horizon, and a small boy walks center stage carrying a bundle in his arms. The boy walks up to him, and Shouto catches sight of the paws under the sheet. The emptiness where his omen once slept starts to fill with sympathy, but he knows he can't interfere.

Arguably, the most unique aspect of the boy - his left hand - is relegated to the background, going unnoticed until the boy speaks that name aloud and Shouto immediately swings his eyes back to him. Allen?! He has a feeling that's not a coincidence and grows tense when he recognizes the familiar cross embedded in his left hand. The dog's collar is also suspect, but it's the mention of Mana's name that cements it.

What am I seeing?

The tension leaves him, and he draws closer to the boy as his composure slips. A need rises inside him, a need to offer his condolences but he knows it'll fall on deaf ears. He's experienced enough visions to know he's a spectator here, nothing more. So, he watches, committing everything to memory as the scene plays out. His heart stutters at the self-reprimand as the urge to counteract that statement takes over. Helplessly, Shouto watches the boy fall into sobs that wreck his composure. Even if he can't hear him, see him, he finds himself kneeling beside him, his hand passing over his like a ghost. Still, he keeps it there, a silent offer that will never be seen. ]

You're not a monster.

[ Even if his words fall on deaf ears, he feels the need to say them, and as he does so, he catches sight of those grey eyes, dark like a storm at sea. He sucks in a breath, recognition hitting him like a brick wall. ]

Allen?!

[ Breathless, he stares at the boy as the final puzzle piece falls into place, and he SEES him. ]

How--

[ Before he can get the question out, the boy lies down, and Shouto wants to pick him up and take him back to the brightly colored tents. Tries to despite knowing he can't. ]

Allen. Get up.

[ He says with a forcefulness that's lost on the boy who's fallen asleep under midwinter snowfall and is quickly becoming part of the background. His heart clenches, and he tries to shake him, move him, anything. But he doesn't belong in this place, his presence a passing thought. He can't affect anything. Knowing this, he still tries as panic rises inside him, forced to watch him fade under the snow.

He can't-- He's in Trench. He didn't die here. Tears freeze in the midwinter night, and he starts to go numb, reaching for that part of him that always made the hurt go away. ]

Allen... please.

[ Another voice answers his call, and his head snaps up, his shoulders jerk when an invisible force holds him in place. It should scare him, but all he can feel is a surge of relief.

This is how you were saved. An unknown hero in the dark. Is this what I needed to know?

The ringing begins anew, and a curtain falls on the scene preventing him from seeing what happens next, but he knows. He was saved. It's such a relief he barely even fights that wrenching feeling and snaps him back into his body with all the delicacy of a bull in a china shop. His eyes snap open, and his legs give out, sending him crashing to the ground. Nausea takes over, and he's hit with a coughing fit that almost makes him wretch. Throughout all this, one could be forgiven for missing the frozen tear tracks running down his cheeks. ]

[likethelight]

[ He isn't going to fall to the ground because Allen, the real Allen who had fret and turned to grasp Shouto's shoulder in kind the moment he appeared to go somewhere else in his head, catches him in some alarm the moment he drops. Caught unawares, he stumbles under him and has to ease them both down.

Shouto's a lot heavier than him. He forgets that sometimes until he has to actually hold up his weight. ]

Shouto?! [ Another vision? He's seen him get them before, his visions of the future, but this seems particularly bad. Panic stirring uneasily in his gut, he swallows it down and he rubs his back gently to try and help ease the coughing. What did you see, here in all places...? ]

It's alright. [ His voice drops, quieter as he moves to brush some of the hair from his face. Softly and soothingly, and he ducks his head so he might try to catch Shouto's eye when the coughing finally starts to abate. ] You're--

[ He blinks, fingers brushing against what breaks away from his cheek like flecks of ice. ]

...back?

[ He blinks, staring as his breath catches. Tears? ]

[swellter]

[ Even before the coughing subsides, Shouto grabs him around the waist, holding on with enough strength to make it impossible to pry him off without considerable effort. ]

You--

[ He chokes down another wave of nausea, forced to close his eyes. His temperature takes a plunge, overtaken by the vision he just witnessed. He holds on to him for dear life as the tears keep coming, freezing before they have a chance to fall. He doesn't know what he feels only that the emptiness Kizu left behind is filling with it. Overwhelming him. ]

You were going to--

[ His voice hitches, throat closing off, remembering the fading eyes of the boy-- Allen. ]

--to let yourself die.

[likethelight]

[ ! The strength with which he latches onto him is alarming, though he makes no move to pull away either of course. Even when his temperature plummets and seems to draw the warmth from Allen so much faster than the winter air itself, and he sucks in his breath at that. Not for the cold, even if it is cold, so cold it hurts and his right hand has gone numb, but that meant he was spiraling so badly--

He brings both hands up and cups his face to tip it up, swiftly and solidly like he means to try and warm him back up that way. Look at him, please look at him and try not to drown in whatever sadness it is you've seen. Please, it...

...It scares him, seeing you like this. His eyes widen at the tears that form, crystalline and shining, falling like he's only seen him fall when... when he died, and later when grieving his death. And he's about to move to brush them back with his thumbs when Shouto says that and it stops Allen cold too. ]

What? [ He realizes he's held his breath and stops for a moment, staring in non-comprehension. Let himself die? That...

His eyes widen further, in realization of what has to be untrue this time, and become haunted. ]

What do you... mean...?

[ Why are you asking him that at this unmarked grave....? ]

[swellter]

[ The coughing subsides and Allen tips his head back, cupping his face as he drowns in the truth he's uncovered. Memories of his death make it all the more real. He could believe that it was a lack of training that made him reckless in fights sometimes but having been forced to see him fade in the snow, he's not so naive anymore. ]

You...

[ Tears fall, freeze, and shatter. ]

You wanted to die.

[likethelight]

[ That doesn't really clear anything up for him, and his mouth pulls down in dismay and bewilderment both. Still, he isn't stupid. Having one of his visions and asking that sort of question when we've just found ourselves in this place, sitting at the tree where once Allen had-- ...where 'Allen' was buried...

He tries to swallow, throat bobbing. Could his vision... work for past memories as well? Like Allen's own seemed to finally be waking up as? It had only happened a few times now, moments when he had stopped to help someone where he'd be lost in a moment of vertigo and feel himself experiencing things that had happened to them. They were quick though, alarming and somewhat frightening in that it wasn't a thing he didn't understand, but none had lasted long enough for him to gain anything more than a quick snapshot that left him reeling.

The thought is... terrifying if he lets himself consider that. What it could mean he might begin to see.

It doesn't matter though. Not right now, and he leans in. Legs shifting slightly to either side of him, to gently try and brush back some of his tears before they freeze -- and to press his lips to the corner of his left eye and the scar there. Warmly but gossamer, delicate as a butterfly's wing, and he holds it for a long and purposeful moment. Don't drown, you're not alone.

(And please don't cry so because of him.) ]

I'm alive right now, aren't I? [ He says it so softly, pulling back only enough to press their foreheads together and let their hair mesh. So very solemn and quiet, his eyes calmly to Shouto's. Gentle and sorrowful. ]

Shouto. [ It's soft, but serious. ] You're cold.

[swellter]

[ The gentle caress brings him into his orbit and stills some of the turmoil clamoring inside his chest. It's enough to let him focus on the Allen in front of him instead of the one he turned to ash. Or the boy who almost passed away before his eyes.

I don't want to watch you die again.

He stares up at him, the kiss drawing him deeper into his orbit, soothing the fear filling his heart. It's soft and sweet like him. Looking at him, he can almost believe his fears are unfounded. He catches his breath, his chest rising with the effort to find order from pandemonium.

I'm alive right now, aren't I?

He nods at the question, knowing he's right, and loosens his hold on Allen, only letting go when he mentions the cold. The change is immediate, his inner turmoil forgotten when he realizes he's lost control of his quirk and reigns it back in. He lets go of him, putting space between them as he starts to warm back up. ]

-- Sorry.

[ He looks at the ground. ]

I lost control.

[likethelight]

[ He lets him pull back, even if Allen looks a bit conflicted and concerned at that, until he looks down at the ground like that. Apologizes like that.

He snags the cuff of Shouto's sleeve then. Anchoring them both with that small gesture as he rises up on his knees and follows after, reaching out to wrap his arms around his shoulders and pull him bodily into a hug that's a little tighter than it needs to be. ]

I was more worried about you. [ He breathes it out with a small huff, still hugging him tight. Like someone scolding, except he says it so very gently and in caring. Don't you dare pull away now when he's more worried about your heart than his numb fingers, idiot.

He does pull back to look at him then though, expression becoming a little... skittish. Uneasy, but he holds himself steady. ]

Was it... another one of your visions?

[swellter]

[ The churning ice crackling inside his chest begins to thaw and with it comes understanding. He grows still against Allen, tempered by the warm embrace, he syncs to him, matching his temperature. Once his quirk is under control, he begins the task of untangling what he witnessed. Pain accompanies the vision, the knowledge of what he saw deeply embedded in his psyche. He lets himself feel it. That hurt that swells in his chest knowing that he had almost lost this life he holds so precious, not once, but twice.

His eyes glitter in the light when he lifts his chin to meet his with a solemn look, accepting the truth. ]

You were different. Younger.

You... You had red hair.

[ His voice is soft, calm. Drained. ]

You buried a dog, and you--

You wanted to die with him... in the snow.

[likethelight]

[ You buried a dog... He stiffens at that, throat tightening at the truth he didn't want to believe. It was a vision of the past then... his past. That night. His life in that book that Shouto had been reading.

His expression flickers nervously, hard to read. Exposed, and his hands fidget lightly together where they've crossed behind Shouto's neck -- but he doesn't pull back either. Even if part of him feels like running or denying it, but Shouto's own returning calm helps anchor him.

He's also not stupid enough to think there's a chance in hell he'd be successful or that it's a good idea. Not anymore at least. ]

...that was a long time ago.

[ He says it very softly. Offhand. ]

After a lot had happened.

[swellter]

[ A long time ago... Had it not been for the vision that clearly marked his intentions, he might have believed him. ]

Has a lot happened since then?

[likethelight]

[ Has a lot happened... Haah. If only you knew, Shouto. There's so much that even Allen doesn't know where to begin or what to make of so very much of it.

Most of it has been left forgotten and buried like these memories.

But it's also been... good. Everything recently has been good, everything since he first washed up on that beach. Even the parts of it that hurt. In a way where it felt like his life had finally started to make some sense again -- and the future was something to make plans for. So he sags against him a little, letting his head drop against his shoulder as he gives a faint nod. ]

...mm. Yeah. [ He mumbles it faintly against his shoulder, eyes hooded faintly as he looks out at nothing in particular. ] A lot really has.

[ He hugs him a little tighter. Gentle but threadbare. ]

I'm sorry you had to see that.

[swellter]

[ The confirmation is enough, an answer he can believe and one he doesn't feel the need to question. Not now, at least. Maybe later, when they're not lost. Are we? Lost? He turns his head to him, and his vision fills with white.

His arms come up around him, welcoming his solid form. No matter what he saw - I know this is real too. The vision showed him another aspect of him, a different perspective. It didn't change who he was simply gave him depth he hadn't uncovered before. ]

I'm not.

[ His fingers drift to the back of his nape where they gently thread through his hair wondering when he dyed it and for what reason. ]

I want to know you. Good or bad.

[ And after a breath: ] This is your world.

Can you show it to me?

[likethelight]

[ --oh. Oh.

You know... That's the first time. The first time anyone's ever asked him something like that, and it startles him both to hear and realize that. Was it actually? Was that actually the first time?

The corners of his eyes water for a moment, feeling his fingers moving through the hair at the back of his neck in a way where he doesn't mind the fact it's unbound at all, and just buries his face against his neck in response. Fingers tightening into his sweater as his throat is too closed off to manage words. Thank you...

The request pulls him back to their more immediate concerns, and he reluctantly sits back. Meeting Shouto's gaze before he presses his lips together, looking around. The same as when he was here before with Kanda... was it Pthumerian illusion, a test? An actual portal into his past?

...did that mean he might still be hunted here? And if that was true...

Uneasy, he gives a small nod. His expression distracted. ]

We should... probably try to find some better clothes first. And shoes.