Uncanny, that Shunsui should have loved and lost someone—this Ukitake Juushirou, beautiful and strong—to darkness; that force which both safeguarded and destroyed in turns, the night which proved necessary for day to break and all things to begin anew. In a way, it unsettled him (the circumstance is too similar, so akin to his own that it is startling), and in others, it set him at ease (undeniable to the ears, the emotion in Shunsui's voice; the sentiment there enough leave golden eyes glassy with tears), for all this while, some part of the King had scorned the Knight for being anything but human.
Though he'd been unable to truly identify the man's origins, from mana exchange alone, he'd known his rose-colored guardian to be in league with the denizens of the Other Realm, and as such Sion Astal, the enemy of the Gods, had been unable to reconcile the fact. But now, beyond any shadow of doubt, the King knows Shunsui to be no true threat, for the Gods and Goddesses, and the monsters which dwelled in their realm, lacked one thing: the equation (emotion) known as love.
And it is with only the highest adoration, the most profound devotion that Shunsui speaks, Sion's head resting against the man's chest as he canonizes some great man that the Hero King embodies in glimmering facets—even now, he wonders what had prompted Shunsui to support him, to carry him even after he'd stumbled—and so much like that man, revered and hailed, Sion will...
Disappear. And though there shall be no happy ending for himself, he still (is moved, curling into Shunsui's chest despite himself, much too tired now to fight the warmth of him and the gentle exchange of mana between them) cannot help but say, "Perhaps you do have a happy ending... I am certain that the life you lead now is Ukitake's dream, one where his friend is safe and well."
(More than anything, the one wish, the one dream which Sion struggles toward is a peaceful world, not for himself, but where one sleepy-headed man and peerless beauty might be able to live out the rest of their days without worry or care. If, by sacrificing his life, he could grant them such a thing, then... it would be all right, if he vanished into the vast sweep of time. He'd only ever been a monster to begin with.)
With the cottage in sight, he turns his face away from Shunsui's chest (how he'd pressed himself against the man, as though he meant to hide, fingers curling into the fabric of his jacket), blinking back the moisture which leaves his eyes glassy and over-bright, a fit of coughing (bereft of blood) finding him again as punishment for forcing himself to speak where he should have not.
Still he, turns his body within Shunsui's grasp, making to free himself—yes, he wishes to walk—before finding himself precariously balanced once again, absent of his usual grace, the elegance which has always seemed intrinsic to him. But with Shunsui at his side (gratitude resonating through the mana-link), he is able to to approach the entryway of the cottage without faltering, opening the door to allow both himself and his escort inside.
Alice, perhaps she is not at home, instead in the Capital proper, working at Heaven's Feel. If she should be, then Sion is grateful, for surely then he will be able to shoo his great, rose-colored guardian away before she returns.
"My thanks, for your aid, but from hereon..." Lifting a hand to his lips, he brushes away the traces of blood which linger there, shimmering and incandescent. "...it will be all right."
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Though he'd been unable to truly identify the man's origins, from mana exchange alone, he'd known his rose-colored guardian to be in league with the denizens of the Other Realm, and as such Sion Astal, the enemy of the Gods, had been unable to reconcile the fact. But now, beyond any shadow of doubt, the King knows Shunsui to be no true threat, for the Gods and Goddesses, and the monsters which dwelled in their realm, lacked one thing: the equation (emotion) known as love.
And it is with only the highest adoration, the most profound devotion that Shunsui speaks, Sion's head resting against the man's chest as he canonizes some great man that the Hero King embodies in glimmering facets—even now, he wonders what had prompted Shunsui to support him, to carry him even after he'd stumbled—and so much like that man, revered and hailed, Sion will...
Disappear. And though there shall be no happy ending for himself, he still (is moved, curling into Shunsui's chest despite himself, much too tired now to fight the warmth of him and the gentle exchange of mana between them) cannot help but say, "Perhaps you do have a happy ending... I am certain that the life you lead now is Ukitake's dream, one where his friend is safe and well."
(More than anything, the one wish, the one dream which Sion struggles toward is a peaceful world, not for himself, but where one sleepy-headed man and peerless beauty might be able to live out the rest of their days without worry or care. If, by sacrificing his life, he could grant them such a thing, then... it would be all right, if he vanished into the vast sweep of time. He'd only ever been a monster to begin with.)
With the cottage in sight, he turns his face away from Shunsui's chest (how he'd pressed himself against the man, as though he meant to hide, fingers curling into the fabric of his jacket), blinking back the moisture which leaves his eyes glassy and over-bright, a fit of coughing (bereft of blood) finding him again as punishment for forcing himself to speak where he should have not.
Still he, turns his body within Shunsui's grasp, making to free himself—yes, he wishes to walk—before finding himself precariously balanced once again, absent of his usual grace, the elegance which has always seemed intrinsic to him. But with Shunsui at his side (gratitude resonating through the mana-link), he is able to to approach the entryway of the cottage without faltering, opening the door to allow both himself and his escort inside.
Alice, perhaps she is not at home, instead in the Capital proper, working at Heaven's Feel. If she should be, then Sion is grateful, for surely then he will be able to shoo his great, rose-colored guardian away before she returns.
"My thanks, for your aid, but from hereon..." Lifting a hand to his lips, he brushes away the traces of blood which linger there, shimmering and incandescent. "...it will be all right."