[ The quivering tears from Tim at the prospect cement his feelings. Even if he has to go against his brother, he can't. It's too cruel to Tim to watch him disappear like that. Nothing about death is supposed to be easy, but it's been less than the span of a few minutes. He pulls the little omen back to his cheek and expels the words brimming in his chest. ]
Don't.
[ His voice is stronger than before. No fault or fissures in the execution. ]
Leave him.
[ They can't do this. He can't do this! He can't let Tim watch that happen. It's too cruel. Too fast. His fingers grip the little golem with more force, finding strength in his tiny form. Please don't cry. ]
Just leave.
[ Please. Let him take care of it. He'll bury him. Find a church and bury him, so Tim can have a place to mourn. Don't you know the dead belong to the living?! They're gone but the pain stays with them. The anger. The grief. The memories belong to them. They're the ones who get left behind. The ones who mourn. They all do it at their own pace, you can't just force them to follow yours! You can't--
A subtle tone of something metallic speaking... the gentle pat, pat, pat of an impossibly tiny hand brings him back, and he startles back from his thoughts, beholding the little omen in a new light. ]
What are you...
[ Saying...? He can hear Tim in his head. Talking. ]
He... wouldn't...
[ Want to rot... He half speaks the words aloud, half thinks them. Something so unexpected as a voice in his head that's not Kizu interrupts the hurt, and he's left reeling with the prospect of a burial pyre. He hardens himself against the instinctual objection. If he's having a hard time with this, then he can't imagine what Tim's feeling, so he gets a hold of himself. Forces back the ache in his chest and stiffly nods. ]
Okay... [ He'll do it, even if it hurts, he'll do it. ] I won't let him--
[ Ya both so damn soft. Dabi cuts him off and ignites the pyre himself.
A sea so intensely blue it sets the icy tomb alight with a flame so fierce it transitions from solid to gas, eradicating the ice to reach the entombed. A quick intake of breath, caught by the beauty of a blue sun that melts the landscape. Shouto is left in awe and pain.
Cloaked in flames so hot they damage him, the eldest Todoroki increases the output, and the youngest finds the courage to let go and do what was asked of him. Gathering the dead into his arms, he rises and with great reluctance he hasn't felt since his training days, he activates his left and adds his red to the furnace. Red like the blood he spilled before the moonlight kissed it. Like the ache in his chest so great, it burns away the whiteout of his mind and Kizu emerges. She moves inside him, bridging the familiar connection. It overflows with empathy as he gives up the body to the blue that reduces it to cinders.
Unburnt, his hands grow light, and the ash slips through his fingers. Well and truly numb, he stops feeling. No more tears. No more sobs. No sound only the taste of ash in his mouth. The body burns, his brother burns, and he's left scorched but unburnt. The body disappears and his vest starts to melt, the instruments in his collar go up in smoke unable to withstand the temperature of those blue flames. Still, he keeps burning and lets the fire consume him. ]
no subject
Don't.
[ His voice is stronger than before. No fault or fissures in the execution. ]
Leave him.
[ They can't do this. He can't do this! He can't let Tim watch that happen. It's too cruel. Too fast. His fingers grip the little golem with more force, finding strength in his tiny form. Please don't cry. ]
Just leave.
[ Please. Let him take care of it. He'll bury him. Find a church and bury him, so Tim can have a place to mourn. Don't you know the dead belong to the living?! They're gone but the pain stays with them. The anger. The grief. The memories belong to them. They're the ones who get left behind. The ones who mourn. They all do it at their own pace, you can't just force them to follow yours! You can't--
A subtle tone of something metallic speaking... the gentle pat, pat, pat of an impossibly tiny hand brings him back, and he startles back from his thoughts, beholding the little omen in a new light. ]
What are you...
[ Saying...? He can hear Tim in his head. Talking. ]
He... wouldn't...
[ Want to rot... He half speaks the words aloud, half thinks them. Something so unexpected as a voice in his head that's not Kizu interrupts the hurt, and he's left reeling with the prospect of a burial pyre. He hardens himself against the instinctual objection. If he's having a hard time with this, then he can't imagine what Tim's feeling, so he gets a hold of himself. Forces back the ache in his chest and stiffly nods. ]
Okay... [ He'll do it, even if it hurts, he'll do it. ] I won't let him--
[ Ya both so damn soft. Dabi cuts him off and ignites the pyre himself.
A sea so intensely blue it sets the icy tomb alight with a flame so fierce it transitions from solid to gas, eradicating the ice to reach the entombed. A quick intake of breath, caught by the beauty of a blue sun that melts the landscape. Shouto is left in awe and pain.
Cloaked in flames so hot they damage him, the eldest Todoroki increases the output, and the youngest finds the courage to let go and do what was asked of him. Gathering the dead into his arms, he rises and with great reluctance he hasn't felt since his training days, he activates his left and adds his red to the furnace. Red like the blood he spilled before the moonlight kissed it. Like the ache in his chest so great, it burns away the whiteout of his mind and Kizu emerges. She moves inside him, bridging the familiar connection. It overflows with empathy as he gives up the body to the blue that reduces it to cinders.
Unburnt, his hands grow light, and the ash slips through his fingers. Well and truly numb, he stops feeling. No more tears. No more sobs. No sound only the taste of ash in his mouth. The body burns, his brother burns, and he's left scorched but unburnt. The body disappears and his vest starts to melt, the instruments in his collar go up in smoke unable to withstand the temperature of those blue flames. Still, he keeps burning and lets the fire consume him. ]