roneal | (no subject)

(no subject)

The market is, objectively speaking, a miserable place. Precious few of the merchandise are happy to be there, nude and bound and collared - sometimes even caged - free for every prospective customer to examine. Few of the customers are happy either. Prices are high, and the press of so many bodies create a stifling atmosphere.

All in all, it is exactly what Jade had expected. He strolls leisurely through the market, not particularly bothered by what is going on around him. It was one of the reasons he had been chosen for this assignment. Today is his first day at the market; he's meant to speak with the vendors, make connections, and walk away with a cheap but handy acquisition.

He's working on the last part now. It's surprisingly difficult to find someone useful and docile, but still with some spirit left - he does not trust the older slaves who are complacent with the system.

It's during his second time looping through the market that someone catches his eye - for all the wrong reasons. He stops, stares at the familiar figure in front of him, an uncharacteristically surprised expression flashing over his face.

Then he's smiling again. He's still unsure if this is a good turn of events, but perhaps he could use this to his advantage.

"My my, I didn't expect to see you here."

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When Shinjirou first begins to shift around, Jade thinks he's having a bad dream. But it just keeps going, and Jade decides he must be awake, maybe struggling to get into a comfortable position.

But no. His unease grows, sharpening and solidifying into a burst of concern when Shinjirou suddenly jerks up. Carefully, Jade pulls himself up as well, until he's half-sitting and half-lying down, maintaining his usual unconcerned air.

"Is everything alright?"

"No." It's not the right time for lies. He doesn't know how to explain what's wrong without giving too much away that he wants to keep from Jade, but he doesn't feel like playing pretend either. Raising his head, he glances at the door. The frame starts tipping to its side, like a mouth opened wide in a scream.

He swallows around the razor blades in his throat. "I'm ... seeing things."

"Hallucinations?" That shouldn't be possible. And Shinjirou is being surprisingly calm about this - well, not calm, exactly, but calmer than Jade would have thought. Not to mention, he's also unusually cognisant of the situation.

But whatever he's hiding, seeing things is a serious issue. Jade isn't accusatory, or sharp, or anything but carefully neutral when he asks: "Has this sort of thing happened before?"

"Not like this." Not this extreme. He's had nightmares before that followed him after waking up, but he's not slept a second yet and still, whether he looks at Jade or keeps his eyes closed ... it's always the same. Shinjirou pushes his hair back, groaning. "Sorry."

He's really not worth the money, is he. When he tries to focus on Jade, his face just melts and turns into that of her. Narrowing his eyes doesn't change that. "My fault for forgetting what I did to her. All night. Didn't think about her."

He doesn't say anything comforting like it's understandable, you had plenty of other things on your mind tonight.

"Her?" He's still outwardly calm, but he can't deny the excitement that pulses through him. This is it, he thinks. If he plays his cards right, he'll be able to discover exactly what it is that makes Shinjirou crave guidance and control so much.

There's an element of curiosity in Jade's excitement, too; nothing in the records he had dug up had mentioned anything like this.

He nods once before hiding his face again, pressed into his arms. "I'm doing it all wrong." And hasn't he known that all along? The real punishment is remembering. What would she care that he lets strangers fuck him, hit him. That got nothing to do with her. She wouldn't care about the stabbing pain in his chest, the bruises, or his sore throat.

"How can I do it right?" Just once. He'd like that. Do something right. He shakes his head. Like he's ever going to manage that. "Fuck."

He had been hoping Shinjirou would tell him more about 'her', but it seems the conversation has shifted away from that topic. Jade isn't about to redirect it - not blatantly, at least.

"That depends on what 'it' is," he responds, although he has a few ideas. Atonement. Restraint. Not forgetting the crime.

He should know. He's intimately familiar with that sort of thing himself.

"What do dead people want?" Shinjirou doesn't expect an answer. How could anyone know the answer to that, after all. Jade isn't dead; no one he could ask is and how would someone that's alive know that.

Carefully sitting back, wiping at his face with one hand, he dares to take another look at Jade. No, he still looks more like her. "I won't do it again. You'd, you wouldn't let me. Right?"

Murder.

So that's it.

The same crime he had committed - and very different at the same time, he thinks. Shinjirou is dealing with it in a way that had took Jade ten years to learn. Neither of them are normal people, exactly, but Shinjirou is more human by far.

Still, now isn't the time to become lost in his thoughts. Jade looks at Shinjirou, steady and unflinching.

"I won't." There are no guarantees in life, but this is as close as it comes. He'll kill him before it comes to that. Sometimes, dangerous dogs just have to be put down, and maybe Shinjirou will even be grateful for it.

But for now, he still has need of Shinjirou. Besides, he's been doing a fine job of restraining himself so far.

Jade sounds so sure of himself. That he's going to succeed and that nothing bad is ever going to happen. Shinjirou almost believes him. Weariness settles over him heavy as a boulder. He could sleep now, with Jade beside him.

He laughs. "How?" New marks left by his own nails paint five red lines on each leg.

"How would you stop it?" Me, should have said me, he thinks. Anger boils in his stomach. If it were that easy, Aki would have done something. She would still be alive. Tasting bile, he sits up straight. "You don't know what you're talking about."

It. What a strange turn of phrase - or perhaps Shinjirou is referring to the situation rather than himself. It's the little details that are important, though, so Jade doesn't put it out of his mind even if it seems insignificant.

And Shinjirou seems so confident that he's a threat, a confidence that speaks of something deeper than faith in his physical strength.

"If I tell you my methods, I'd lose the advantage of surprise." But that won't be enough to placate Shinjirou, not with how riled up he's getting. The air of the room had changed - tension crackles around them, the despondency draining out of Shinjirou to be replaced by something more dangerous.

Jade is intrigued.

"Still, if you think I should be better informed..." He trails off. Maybe it's a bad idea to make Shinjirou speak so much, with his throat the way it is, but he'll never have an opportunity like this again.

"No." That wouldn't change a thing. So what if he told Jade in detail what he is capable of -- maybe Jade would get rid of him or have his next guest be a shrink. Shinjirou pets the blanket as if it were a pet, staring at his hands as they smooth out all the little crinkles.

"You think you're going to tell me no and then I'll be good but that's not how it works." He's stopped by coughing attack for a while and the blanket has to suffer from his hands crumpling it up again. Like a face distorted by shock and pain. "That's not enough."

He doesn't want to attack anyone, least of all someone he's convinced won't be able to defend himself when he loses control. "Shit I wish that'd be enough." It's been so far, but does that mean anything? What if Jade finds the suppressants, what if for some reason he won't be able to take them anymore? That's the only thing that works, drugs.

That's not what he had been planning, but Jade isn't going to correct him. Hopefully, he'll never have to, even if for a brief moment he finds himself wishing otherwise. But that sort of thinking is wrong, and one he quashes immediately.

"There's no reason for it not to be enough." He has little patience for defeatism, but... In this particular instance, he feels little desire to turn away and leave Shinjirou be, as he would have done to anyone else. Perhaps because he needs to protect his investment. "It's been adequate so far, hasn't it? You simply need to convince yourself."

"How?" Counting to ten, taking deep breaths. He's doing all that, he's doing it right now, but that doesn't make him believe it could be that easy. Tell yourself you won't freak out and you won't? That can't be right.

And if he's only been adequate so far, with a lot of effort, then it's stupid to think there's a lot of room for improvement. "I could have killed so many people tonight." He shifts, scoots away and out of Jade's immediate grasp. Without Strega's help, he'd be the most useless, most awful purchase ever made.

"But you didn't." He gives Shinjirou his space, even when all he wants to do is to keep prodding at him, until he discovers exactly what's wrong. But he doesn't, and while that isn't perfect, it's enough. It has to be enough for Shinjirou as well.

Jade has to admit, he doesn't entirely understand how Shinjirou's mind works. He must have a purpose of some sort, if he's still clinging onto life. But he can't discern what it is. Unless he's simply too cowardly to end it?

"Why not?" He persists. "What had changed between then and now?"

The answer to that question is very simple. Shinjirou glances at Jade, hands folded in his lap. He remembers that Jade didn't want him to pick at the scabs and he'd rather continue being adequate than losing it altogether. Still, he chews on his lips, but that won't stain the sheets.

"You're going to be angry." Though Shinjirou wonders if that's not exactly what he wants. Someone else being angry with him is easier to deal with than his own anger. Can he risk Jade taking his safety line from him? "... I'll show you, if I have to."

"That may be best." Just how much is Shinjirou hiding from him? And what, exactly? He tries to string all the clues together: it's not his influence, certainly, which is a little disappointing; it must be something serious if Shinjirou is so reluctant to show him.

Something that helps him calm himself, something easy to hide, something illicit... The answer is just within Jade's grasp, but he simply doesn't have the time to think, when most of his attention is devoted to the conversation at hand.

Edited 2015-01-17 14:21 (UTC)

He tries not to think about the consequences when he slips out of bed and wanders over to the futon. Jade will take them away and he mustn't. The small plastic bag that holds the rest of the suppressants fits neatly into his fist. There aren't that many left.

Hesitantly, he returns to Jade's side, climbing into his lap. If he uses his body weight, he may just have a chance of keeping the pills somehow by making it harder for Jade to move. Adrenaline or not, he's too exhausted -- he doesn't believe for a second that putting up a fight would help him.

"Sorry." He opens his hand, not looking up at Jade.

As soon as he realizes that Shinjirou is moving towards his pillow, everything clicks into place. Of course. He had been asking for pills, and just a few days before, there was the admission that he had done drugs - tranquillizers, to be precise.

When Shinjirou reveals what he's holding, Jade isn't surprised. If anything, he chastises himself for having taken this long to realize. He'll need to be more observant in the future; clearly Shinjirou is keeping even more secrets than he had thought. But right now, he has to deal with this situation.

"You told me this won't cause any problems," he says, cold. "Did you lie?"

"No!" Cradling the pills, he casts his eyes down. It's no surprise that Jade isn't happy about this, Shinjirou expected that -- and got them anyway because they're absolutely necessary. Why does he feel shame well up then, the feeling of having done something wrong? That's idiotic. He did the right thing.

"It won't. They're ... safe." I'm safe when I take them. "They wouldn't even have an effect on you."

He's clearly dependent on them. Part of Jade wonders if this is all an act, if this is all a story Shinjirou had concocted in order to persuade him to fund his drug habit. He doubts it; the scheme is too convoluted, too far-fetched. And he has a good idea of what Shinjirou is capable of. He's not a particularly good actor, and the emotions he's displaying feel too genuine to be something he's faking.

"Then what do they have an effect on?" That's as good a question as any, Jade supposes. Shinjirou is still hiding something. Jade had been trying to piece things together during the gaps in the conversation, but there's not exactly much time. All he knows is that Shinjirou is convinced that he's a danger, even when he has no access to weapons.

Which means this danger of his has to come from within. And that means...

For a second, Jade feels cold, then warm, adrenaline spiking through his veins. His theory should be impossible. Yet he can't think of any other reason.

Jade already knows far too much and Shinjirou assumes that Jade also knows some things that he isn't even aware Jade knows about. And this is the secret he cannot spill. Absolutely not. If Jade's really unlucky, he'll learn the truth one day anyway.

Slowly breathing in and out, pills still clutched in one white-knuckled fist, Shinjirou sits back. The cracked skin of his lips he's been chewing on tastes salty and metallic. He should find another way to let his energy out when he's nervous, he thinks. One that isn't so telling. "On me. They have an effect on me and people like me."

He shrugs. "I'm not smart enough to explain this." Which isn't actually a lie. As long as the drugs work, he doesn't care, side-effects be damned. So what if he's almost always cold? There's ways to at least make his body believe it's hot.

"You're not going to take them away?"

"People like you?" Abruptly, he thinks of smoke and fire, uncontrolled power ripping through his body, blood on the snow. Old memories. He'd like to think they don't affect him much any more. And they don't, at least not right now - he has no trouble maintaining a neutral expression.

"I'm going to need more information before I can make a decision." But he doubts he's going to get any more out of Shinjirou, at least not with the approach he's taking. Time to try something different. Jade is determined to find out as much as possible, not for the mission, or for the sake of Shinjirou's wellbeing, but because he's fascinated by the possibility of new knowledge.

"What will happen if you don't have access to them?"

"I'll lose control." This time, he doesn't slip up. No it he'll lose control of, just himself. And shouldn't that be enough of an explanation? It should be. That's already bad, that can already hurt people. It won't impale them and tear them apart, though.

Gnawing on his lips again, he slips off and turns his back towards Jade, pills hidden in his fist. He's gotten cold. It's not the cold he's used to, more like swallowing a frozen block of lead. It's hell on his worn-out body, every bruise a source of heat amidst the cold. Head hammering, Shinjirou closes his eyes and slowly reclines. "If you want to keep using me the way you do now, you can't take them. Even if it takes weeks or months or a whole year, something bad's gonna happen."

Weeks or months or a whole year. Will Shinjirou even be with him for that long?

Still, he thinks he's learnt enough for now, and Shinjirou looks like he needs some sleep. Jade's curiosity still isn't entirely satisfied, but he'll live.

"I suppose I can let you keep them, as long as you keep them in the kitchen along with the other pills." They run the risk of melting right now, stuffed under a pillow as they are. "Is that fine with you?"