[ He tried his best to ignore the mirrors when they appeared. Bad things had been happening the past few days, and this was probably another one of them. But interacting with them or destroying them could set off something worse, so it was best to let them be, wait and see, wasn't it? They unsettled him, made his skin crawl, but even so, he did his best not look within them when he had to pass them by.
And yet throughout the day and into the next things began - a streak of shadow out of the corner of his eye, the scent of blood, imagining he saw splotches of it on his clothing, in his hair, on his face. More than that, he was sure he recognized the shape of the shadow, that it was creeping closer.
It wasn't until that night, brushing out his hair before bed, that he knew what that shadow truly was. He saw him in the reflection in the mirror - the jet black hair, the jet black eyes, sad, so sad... or angry? But god, he knew that face, he saw it in his dreams, ached for it and he clapped a hand to his mouth to avoid screaming.
Yasha!
He spun, but no one was behind him in the bedroom, but looking back into the mirror he was there, closer now, that same look on his face. He wanted to look away, to not have to see him, to see his soul trapped even here, but he would not go away no matter how many times he blinked or looked behind him. He gasped for air, sucking it through his teeth as he reached up to touch his face in the mirror. ]
Gods... Yasha... I am so sorry...
[ His vision blurred as he teared up, hating to see him, hating to know he was still trapped, not yet free. God what had he done to him? Why had he been so selfish as to wish the other to remain in this tortured life when they had both already suffered so much? What sort of fool was he? What sort of monster?
He choked back a sob... and nearly screamed again when he began to cry tears of blood. He wiped at them, but just managed to smear them further across his cheeks, turning his face into a mess. He rose, fleeting the mirror, and went to his bathroom, doing his best to wash it away, but the water ran pink and he continued to cry those red tears.
He screamed then, screamed and backed away and went back to his room, going to the mirror, slamming his hands on the vanity and gazing into the mirror, Yasha now right behind him, saying nothing, his face that sad, disappointed mask. ]
Please... please go... be free...!
[ He sobbed, nails digging into the wood.... and then his back arched, just thrusting out. In the mirror a sword pierced his chest, but if he looked down there was nothing there. But the pain felt real, the reflection was real and Yasha was right there. He was right there, staring at him, accusing him, blaming him - and rightly so - for everything.
He deserved this. Everything he deserved. And as he sank into the final darkness the pain followed, and he knew he deserved it. ]
Ashura - Saturday - Day 4
And yet throughout the day and into the next things began - a streak of shadow out of the corner of his eye, the scent of blood, imagining he saw splotches of it on his clothing, in his hair, on his face. More than that, he was sure he recognized the shape of the shadow, that it was creeping closer.
It wasn't until that night, brushing out his hair before bed, that he knew what that shadow truly was. He saw him in the reflection in the mirror - the jet black hair, the jet black eyes, sad, so sad... or angry? But god, he knew that face, he saw it in his dreams, ached for it and he clapped a hand to his mouth to avoid screaming.
Yasha!
He spun, but no one was behind him in the bedroom, but looking back into the mirror he was there, closer now, that same look on his face. He wanted to look away, to not have to see him, to see his soul trapped even here, but he would not go away no matter how many times he blinked or looked behind him. He gasped for air, sucking it through his teeth as he reached up to touch his face in the mirror. ]
Gods... Yasha... I am so sorry...
[ His vision blurred as he teared up, hating to see him, hating to know he was still trapped, not yet free. God what had he done to him? Why had he been so selfish as to wish the other to remain in this tortured life when they had both already suffered so much? What sort of fool was he? What sort of monster?
He choked back a sob... and nearly screamed again when he began to cry tears of blood. He wiped at them, but just managed to smear them further across his cheeks, turning his face into a mess. He rose, fleeting the mirror, and went to his bathroom, doing his best to wash it away, but the water ran pink and he continued to cry those red tears.
He screamed then, screamed and backed away and went back to his room, going to the mirror, slamming his hands on the vanity and gazing into the mirror, Yasha now right behind him, saying nothing, his face that sad, disappointed mask. ]
Please... please go... be free...!
[ He sobbed, nails digging into the wood.... and then his back arched, just thrusting out. In the mirror a sword pierced his chest, but if he looked down there was nothing there. But the pain felt real, the reflection was real and Yasha was right there. He was right there, staring at him, accusing him, blaming him - and rightly so - for everything.
He deserved this. Everything he deserved. And as he sank into the final darkness the pain followed, and he knew he deserved it. ]