hizzashii
IX: THE HERMIT
THE HERMIT symbolizes withdrawal from events and relationships to introspect and gather strength.
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Though features give little more than a flicker of emotion, the soft flush upon his cheeks is far more telling--Yoriichi supposes he shouldn't be too surprised, but it doesn't stop him from first feeling an odd shyness as Dōma reveals his knowledge. An uncertainty, for he knows Akaza's feelings well, but...ah, he'll bring this revelation to the other's attention when they meet again.
Sometimes Yoriichi truly did prefer to let Akaza think for him instead. For the time being--
"...I haven't. Aniue typically scolds me for the opposite," he admits, attempting to shift topic as true as it is--between the two, it were Yoriichi who tended to have unbrushed hair and generally more unkept. It had even been true in centuries past, one the doll to display and the other the unwanted spare. Perhaps it were even more telling, when fingertips instinctively reached to the marks upon cheekbone, the extension of that birthmark burned into his skin.
As much as he also didn't feel confident in such things as makeup on himself...at least it were easier to confront.
"I would...hate to occupy your time, I know you are quite busy, however."
and a gasp from dōma — immediately shaking his head in response, “everyone is beautiful, yorii-kun! it’s just a matter of getting yourself to see it.”
as he puts away his photo, he gives a soft giggle to himself.
“i’m sure akaza-dono would say differently,” he cared not for revealing their little secret, “but that aside, have you ever worn makeup? or touched up your hair? maybe i could bring out some of that inner beauty that i know is within you~!”
#uppertwo#══ a man of no worth (ic)#══ breath of the sun (main)#yorii being a lost puppy because he doesnt have direction from akaza is sending me--
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His behavior reminds Yoriichi of the excitement of an overly exuberant puppy, the type that tend to attempt jumping upon the object of their attention and unable to contain barks. Yet, it's oddly endearing in its own way--that Dōma is this excited over his family, over his children.
It's surprise that doesn't manage to show upon his face, when Dōma suggests the photo. A minute tilt of his head--the closest Yoriichi is able to show thoughtfulness upon his features.
"--I fear I wouldn't suit such a thing, aneue carries far more grace."
“yeah!! yeah!!” he was clearly buzzing — hardly able to stay still as he holds their first family photo. he quickly flips it back around so he, too, can admire the little ones. this only encourages him to vibrate even harder.
“it was kinda annoying trying to get an official photo — we had to hire someone,” he continues, “but it’s worth it~! hey — why don’t you and koku-chan get a photo together sometime?”
#uppertwo#══ a man of no worth (ic)#══ breath of the sun (main)#i love yorii seeing himself as just like#a country bumpkin in comparison--
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He initially blinks in surprise, mostly mildly taken aback by the sheer excitement and exuberance--he must still adjust to some things. But even with the shakiness, Yoriichi instantly recognizes nieces; its interesting, seeing them in photo, his eyes unable to gaze through like his vision so often does. It allows him a rare chance to actually see the twins properly.
"They're growing so quickly--it seems like just yesterday that they were so small."
“Aren’t they the cutest?” he holds up a photo, hands shaking, “c’mooon, look at my children!”
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"It's okay," the reassurance is easy to give, for despite the pain thrumming through him, Yoriichi is not truly upset. He knows Akaza didn't mean to, and he doesn't wish for him to feel any guilt for an accident no less. "--I have felt more pain, so please do not worry. I know I'll be able to handle it."
Indeed, Yoriichi takes a soft breath and closes his eyes: mentally preparing himself but otherwise unfussed. It must be done.
@hizzashii / sc.
he holds the other’s arm, carefully, “—i’m sorry i did that — sometimes i have difficulty holding back, even in practice battles… i’m gonna put it back into place, okay? it might hurt.”
#upperthird#══ a man of no worth (ic)#══ so rise like the sun and burn (taisho era)#me not realizing until posting that icons match lmAO
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NOT READY TO ADMIT and Yoriichi would never push him. That he is allowed this selfish indulgence is enough. It is enough. Instinctively, he wants to fret over the strained note in Akaza's voice even if he knows the true cause, but he tries to fight against the constant worry, the constant fear that he's too much, too warm, too much of a presence.
A instinct beaten into him, that he tries to struggle past for Akaza.
"--are you sure? I do not mind remaining awake, if you'd prefer."
--it's still a struggle to fight against chains of his father.
Almost a relief when conversation changes, ruby gaze glancing up to Akaza from his spot at the demon's shoulder.
"I dream of many things--they are usually memories, or wishes. Those that I have lost, and the moments I never had the privilege to witness."
Besides the nightmares: the loss of Uta, the abuse he suffered, the losses he has known. Without truly noticing, Yoriichi's hand begins to cling.
"I wonder, if that man plays a role...he has always relished in stealing all that one loves."
and it was stubbornness and weakness that he wasn’t ready to admit —— as their shoulders come to meet, akaza’s nose wrinkles, digging blunt nails into the muscle of his arm to stop a purr from sounding.
“...you can sleep if you want,” he grunts, clearly strained, “—i won’t let anyone attack us.”
a long, awkward pause.
“—what… do you dream about? do you dream about anything?” a desperate means to further distract himself from the purrs creeping through him, “—i don’t dream about anything, whenever i do try to sleep… it’s weird.”
“—every time i start to see something, something snuffs it out — like a flame.”
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hmms.........
#i can't decide if i wanna adjust the colors in some way#or leave them as they are rn#because admittedly i do kinda dig them--#══ day break (ooc)
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@upperthird
Try as he may, centuries' worth of habits don't fade away so easily. Yoriichi still, habitually, forgets to properly sleep--dozing off whenever comfortable, whenever safe instead. A nomad, wayfaring stranger, too accustomed still to never truly belonging.
He had nearly forgotten what it was like, to feel as if he belonged. Had nearly forgotten, until he realizes: he feels content. No urge to wander, hardwired to look over his shoulders.
He rests against Akaza, and something in Yoriichi's expression softens, perhaps even on the verge of a smile as ruby eyes close--a moment to etch this peace into his memory.
"--I'm not falling asleep," he feels urge to clarify. "I'm only remembering."
#upperthird#══ a man of no worth (ic)#══ so rise like the sun and burn (taisho era)#am forever somft over the way yorii treasures the smallest moments#i wanna try thinking of a tag for them at some point--
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blows the dust off here--
i should make him new icon borders at some point too actually
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et3rnal-paradise:
Every fiber of his being wanted this person dead, the only reason Douma had held himself back was for the sake of Kokushibo and the potential lashing he’d receive had he attempted to attack her sibling. Not to mention of what Kokushibo had told him of her sibling he wondered how long the fight might actually last. Kokushibo was the strongest of all of them and he’d practically destroyed her on top of leaving her with a permanent wound despite their other worldly healing abilities. It wasn’t like talking with Yoriichi would be the first time he’d ever bothered taking the time to talk to a slayer, but in this case it wouldn’t be a talk that would turn into a fight and the desire to kill warping each one’s mind.
“Bold of you to assume they don’t.” Kokushibo herself was usually the first one to approach when Douma returned to the temple from the infinity castle, likely curious how far Muzan had taken it that time and how bad a shape Douma was in. He’d wondered if perhaps Muzan was growing bored of the little game of hiding his siblings and Kokushibo’s secret and that had been why his methods had gone from simply rag dolling him to now legitimately trying to kill him.
“You’re looking at me with those same eyes as your sister aren’t you?” She had told him once what they were, but he hadn’t bothered to fully remember, all he gathered is that they could see beyond the skin into his actually body; it practically felt like an invasion of privacy and he was tempted to cover himself, as though that would really make a difference.
“Quite the creepy concept, your eyes I mean, makes it impossible to really hide anything. However, I would appreciate it if you stopped staring the wounds will heal eventually, they always do.” Even if that eventuality came from consuming humans which as one himself Douma could imagine Yoriichi didn’t like the concept. “I’m not my brother, I don’t hate you, I don’t particularly like you for obvious reasons but his displeasure with you and my own are not the same. It’s not necessary to be so wary when addressing me.”
He can see how tense the other were, but no indication of movement--what he guessed were agitation but no attempt to attack. That was fine, Yoriichi preferred that; it meant he needn’t earn either his twin’s or her husband’s ire, and he didn’t wish to fight regardless. This was another member of her new family, wasn’t it?
A sort of unspoken truce. He won’t attack, only defend and slip away if it proved necessary.
It doesn’t surprise him either to learn for certain that the other two did indeed fuss over him, to whatever degree. It isn’t his place to ask and Yoriichi is still too-aware that he is the odd one out here--he turns a blind eye, tries to not notice too much, but perhaps he is more selfish than he thought.
He just doesn’t wish to lose more family.
“--I were born with this vision. I cannot stop it,” but he allows his gaze to drift away then, not looking towards anything in particular but red eyes no longer cast that sight upon Douma himself. It were why he so often didn’t look towards those he spoke to, for his vision were even more thorough than Kokushibo’s own.
Creepy was probably still one of the nicer ways he can recall it being described, but to spare Douma, Yoriichi opts to focus on his following words.
“--I know his thoughts towards myself. If yours are so different from his, what are they?”
#et3rnalparadise#══ a man of no worth (ic)#══ so rise like the sun and burn (taisho era)#the way these two are the 'nicer' ones lmAO
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uppertwo:
and upon the other’s recalling, douma nods —— was it normal to be nervous? perhaps he was a little anxious about things like the smoothness (or not) of the actual childbirth, but that seemed to be the only thing he worried about. he’d been around babies and children before — perhaps it was from those experiences, he was able to believe in himself.
“——i didn’t know you were a father,” he answers, honestly, “—i’m sure you would have been a good one, too.”
and he means it! shockingly, the discussion seems to bleed through some form of trust in the other. it was admittedly nice, to be able to talk with another parent.
“—but i really mean it when i say i’m just… excited,” a hint of laughter, “—i’m excited to meet them, and love them. and the fact i can do it with kokushibo makes me…”
his heart skips a beat — still unfamiliar, but pleasant.
“…really happy.”
If he were being entirely honest, Yoriichi may admit to worrying somewhat as well--after all, no one knew just what demonic newborns would be like, and though he knows that his sibling is strong...it will still be painful, and part of him always worried if something were to go wrong. He hoped it wouldn’t, but after the loss of Uta, it were a worry that perhaps would always remain regardless.
To stop his mind from wandering, Yoriichi nods. “I were, though it were many years ago, and I’m but a grandfather now.” A grandfather for several generations, his descendant now the one who wore the earrings mother had crafted.
But this were about Doma, not himself. Perhaps in time, Yoriichi will tell as well: he isn’t certain how much Kokushibo has or hasn’t, and perhaps this beginning of trust will grow by then.
“--you’ll make a wonderful father,” more certain this time, no longer a guess but an absolute. Picking up his tea, Yoriichi takes a sip before it grows too cold. “I felt I’ve misunderstood aneue for many years, but even I would be blind to not see her joy with you, and in having them.”
He notices it, too: Doma didn’t seem nervous. No, even his eyes could only see happiness.
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et3rnal-paradise:
Douma had occasionally glanced in the others direction within his time at the temple, not that he could really understand why but this newcomer seemed to make his sibling upset. Anytime Yoriichi’s name was even brought up in the same room as him his brother would get this look on his face that silently told the one speaking, unless it was Kokushibo, to stop talking. The male had served as somewhat of an enigma within the temple and rumors from other followers of his being strange had reached his ears more than once; it was kind of comical that they thought a person who physically didn’t seem to express anything was strange to them when their founder himself was an image of the very same. Sure, Douma smiled and cried for them, but everything he’d displayed to the humans was a mask of what he thought they expected to see. Feeling sorrow for another’s pain when most times they could have prevented the issue themselves was something he simply could not do.
This too had served as one of those times where he was prepared to simply nod in the others direction and continue on about his day, but clearly the man had something else in mind as his words reached Douma before he’d even had the opportunity to express the usual greeting.
“Do I now?” He’d questioned looking himself over, of course he knew he was indeed injured from a bought of frustration from the demon king, but he had tried so hard not to make it obvious. Doma and Kokushibo would know right away just from the scent of him, but if the followers found out and started questioning things…well, he didn’t want that to happen.
“Perhaps you’re simply seeing things? I can’t imagine after all these years your eyesight is perfect, you are only human after all.”
As far as he were aware, none of the followers knew his actual identity--at least, none that were brave enough to question, as far as he were aware. There were times this temple seemed peaceful, and times it felt as if he were walking upon thin ice--attempting to understand sibling, earning the trust of her husband (was he? Yoriichi wasn’t sure), attempting to keep those two young children safe in the ways he is able whilst still preferring to keep his head down.
Yoriichi never liked attention, and keeping some degree of distance seemed wiser. He knows there is more within this temple than he could wish to know--and oh, how that felt so odd.
But he’s made the exception, for big sister and her family. It was better than losing her again, wasn’t it--?
Though Douma brushes him off, Yoriichi can see it: his ability to see the see-through world were even more perfected than Kokushibo’s own. Even so, expression neither shifts nor falters. If he doesn’t wish it to be known to him, that were his business.
But--
“--would not our siblings become upset if they knew?”
There’s no point in correcting him: Yoriichi isn’t certain yet just how much he can say.
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uppertwo:
and it was still admittedly difficult to let him in —— always pondering on things that could go wrong, always wondering what could potentially happen… regardless, the question somewhat catches him off guard; a look of surprise emerges on his features.
“—uh… u—um…” and then, laughter — he was still figuring out this whole deal with his emotions, so it was hard to figure out where one feeling ended and another began. however, he tries — he tries very hard to read what he’s feeling in this moment.
“—i think i’m excited, more than anything,” an honest confession, “—like sure, there will be bumps and stuff, but it’s going to be…”
“…it’s going to be the best chapter of my life — why would i feel anything but excitement?”
To some level, he knew, for Yoriichi suspected their feelings were similar to one another: uncertain how much trust could be had, unsure of how much safety there were, but...Kokushibo picked him, and Yoriichi had long ago seen the change in her. To know that Doma is the one who allowed her this happiness--Yoriichi will trust her judgement.
He has lost every other family member, every other friend, instinct screams at him to pay more attention to the workings of the temple and yet he turns a blind eye lest he lose the last family left remaining.
Well, that wasn’t right: descendant still remains. Yoriichi simply couldn’t let go of twin, either. Perhaps, even after so long, he were still just the child that clung to his sibling and followed after her wherever she went.
Though expression doesn’t shift, there still remains something softer around the edges.
“--I recall being nervous,” he admits, something wistful in his eyes. “When my wife carried ours. I feared I wouldn’t make for a suitable father,” and he never got to find out, either.
“But judging from your treatment of her, I believe you will do fine.”
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when will my muse to be here return from the war
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the lovers.
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unprompted ☀️ @swordsxsakuras
*hugs ancient grandpa*
hugs not-ancient granddaughter!
"--hello, Nezuko. Is everything alright?"
#swordsxsakuras#══ a man of no worth (ic)#══ so rise like the sun and burn (taisho era)#══ as the crow flies (asks)
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uppertwo:
and there was a strange flicker to douma’s eyes upon the mention of muzan. even if he hadn’t considered the dangers before, they were clear now — would muzan hunt them down? perhaps yoriichi had a use after all.
a use — what a cruel and cold way to put it. however, douma couldn’t help such a way of thinking — in the end, many people were reduced to what they could do for him, for his family. yoriichi would be no different.
and so, he plays his role — welcoming, so he would not run away.
“——i hadn’t realised how defenceless we were,” he begins, “—but i’m glad we have you to rely on. as powerful as the upper three are, we… we can’t…”
a new mask, a vulnerable one.
“—we can’t defeat him. he would kill us before we had the chance,” how odd, upon saying these words, real distress seemed to bubble up within him. he wasn’t faking this, as he’d originally intended to — it seemed genuine emotion came up anyway, “—if you could help us…”
“…i’ll do anything,” a response so true to his heart, “—i want my family to survive, yoriichi-san.”
It were familiar, still.
Even exiled from the corps, unable to show his face but in shame, they still requested aid, they still wished for that talent he were claimed to possess, that Yoriichi never wanted of and yet seemed to hold anyway. It were almost nostalgic in a way, to be threatened and then aid desired.
Yoriichi can recognize it, the way Doma attempts to tug him along, attempts to sway him.
He can also see the way his heart falters, as something more genuine flickers--that distress, that worry, and it were something Yoriichi still approved of: to see him, even in front of Yoriichi, able to show genuine concern and fear for his family.
It reassured that Doma would indeed do whatever able to keep Kokushibo and their children safe.
He knows Doma is stringing him along. Yoriichi willingly follows the tugs with nary the blink of an eye.
“--you needn’t do anything,” he begins, trying to pick words to convey feelings properly, or as properly as Yoriichi could manage, “I would rather ensure my twin and her family remain safe--I’ve lost family, too. It’s not pain I’m willing to expose her to, if I can help it.”
She already felt it, didn’t she? When she were unable to protect Kamados, and Yoriichi wasn’t there to protect own descendants. A wound into both of their hearts; they’ve both lost too much in this vicious cycle.
“There’s no need to do anything,” he repeats, “we want the same thing.”
And finally a glance away, a respite from seeing through the other, an attempt to lessen some of the tension that seemed to hang within the air.
“--after I nearly defeated him, he has hidden himself away from me. My descendant wears the earrings I left to them, and it’s become enough to cause him to feel threatened by a mere child. If he were to know I were here, it seems likely he would avoid this place entirely as well, out of that same fear.”
And thus, Yoriichi would become both sword and shield.
“This place is yours, and I expect you’ll use that as needed--I will work with you. And if he does come here, I expect you’ll ensure their and your safety in allowing me to handle him.”
In that worst case scenario, to protect his family and fall back instead.
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the lovers.
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