redshiftlogs | [closed] sorting out memories

Who: Ritsu and Gokudera
What: Ritsu arranges a meeting to help Gokudera undo his brainwashing
When: August
Where: The gymnasium
Warnings: Mild body horror

Ritsu, true to his word, waits a week without contacting Gokudera. In truth, it's a week he feels he's spent mostly unfruitfully - the more acquainted he is with his surroundings, the more disappointed he is. Moldy vending machines? A robot that throws drinks at bar patrons (okay, admittedly, that one can be funny to watch)? Living arrangements that mostly give him absolutely no privacy to speak of? Honestly, a pain doesn't even begin to describe it; even the simple matter of looking for a comfortable place to take Gokudera proves to be an annoyance. If possible, he'd like it to be someplace with beds or at least a seat of some sort so Gokudera can rest afterwards. He'd also prefer privacy, given the nature of what they're about to do.

The intimacy lounge fits his requirements best, but... Well, how does one begin to invite someone they've just met to a place like that? It's shifty beyond belief - there's no way it wouldn't make him sound like some kind of creep! Even if explains his reasons to Gokudera and Gokudera is fine with it, he's not comfortable with it, given what the intimacy lounge is built for. What if someone sees? What if there are rumors?!

And so, after much deliberation, Ritsu decides to settle for the gym, firing a message off to Gokudera.

"Gokudera-san. Can you meet me in the gym?"

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"Right now? I'll be there in a few minutes," is Gokudera's response.

He's wondering why the other chose the gynasium when there is a medbay, and this situation sounds like something that could knock him down. It would be a far better place to rest, but there are medbots that could interfere, or see the situation for what most could assume is Gokudera literally being shot, when it's something as simple as having his memories restored.

If only Ritsu knew the kind of world Gokudera lived in before he came to Anchor. The invite to the intimacy lounge would be strange, but Gokudera wouldn't be bothered. However, his boyfriend might have a problem with the implications of activities there.

It's far from the most comfortable place to do this, but Ritsu figures it'll have to do, waiting for Gokudera by the entrance - and once Gokudera arrives, he'll usher him towards the area with weight-lifting equipment. Not because they'll be doing any weight-lifting, of course, but because the bench press machine has something akin to a bed for Gokudera to rest on.

Not exactly the most comfortable thing to rest on, but it'll have to do. Ritsu is aware of how he looks when he activates his Catharsis Effect, after all, and this place is conveniently devoid of other people at the moment.

"My appearance is going to change a little, but please don't be alarmed. It looks painful, but it won't leave me with any lasting damage."

Gokudera walks in, looks around. He's never actually been to the gymnasium before. There's lots of space, and he figures he should introduce his boyfriend to this place. It may be a good way to get out some of that endless energy he is so full of.

The bomber looks at Shikishima, lifts an eyebrow, then scratches at his collar. The leather strapped there lights up faintly in response to the touch, and he frowns.

"What do you mean? Also, I take it you're aiming for my head. Is that a safe assumption?" Gokudera lights a cigarette, just trying to calm his nerves. He's been shot at before, and he's seen his boss get shot many times. Even if he knows he won't be shot at with a bullet, that doesn't make him feel much better. It's just natural to be a bit apprehensive, right?

"It doesn't have to be the head."

It's a logical assumption to make, though; Ritsu can see why Gokudera jumps to that assumption. And as for what he means... He sighs, then inhales. He figures it would be much faster to just show Gokudera.

He shuts his eyes, focusing on an image of a blooming flower. Then, slowly, flowers begin to sprout and bloom above his chest, accompanied by the sudden formation of a giant black thorn that bursts out in both directions. The skin on his hands peels away, revealing more black underneath, and two strangely-shaped pistols with a flower insignia engraved into their sides apparate into his hands.

He doesn't mind Gokudera seeing this, but it's part of the reason he wanted it to just be the two of them. He doesn't need third parties freaking out and assuming he's some sort of monster.

"Well, so long as my collar won't take any damage," Gokudera says with a shrug. It's not like the accessory is something expensive, but that if it were damaged, it could possibly kill him. He's not going around pointing out that it's such a big weakness, so he won't offer more information unless Shikishima is asking for it.

The bomber stands, watches, and continues to smoke, blinking at the change that happens to the other guy's appearance. He's seen a lot of strange shit, but this is unique in its own way. There's not much that could have prepared him for what he's witnessing.

"You said it looks painful. Is it?" Gokudera seems relatively calm about this.

"A little. But I'm used to it."

Calm is good. Gokudera looks young, but he seems to be relatively mature for his age, much to Ritsu's relief. Part of Ritsu has to wonder just what Gokudera's been exposed to that he can take something like this in stride, but... Well, there will be time for that later.

First things first.

He walks up to Gokudera, then raises his guns, pointing them at Gokudera's chest - might as well pick that spot, since Gokudera's concerned about his collar.

"You ready?"

"I'm sorry."

For causing him any pain or discomfort. Gokudera is a nice, good person. The last world he was on showed him some real horrors. The way Shikishima wants to help him eases how he looks. It is odd, but Gokudera won't react too obviously.

"You're going to fire both?" He wonders if it will be like an energy shot, or light, or... the black that he can see beneath the other boy's skin. He isn't sure how he'll react, and is at his base level scared. Green eyes widen and look down at those pistols, his eyebrows knitting as he tries to ready himself.

I'm sorry, huh? They're words Ritsu doesn't hear very often, and for a brief moment, a tiny smile - wry and sad - appears on his face.

Little sparks of white electricity flow through Ritsu's pistols, lighting up the flower-shaped imprints carved into the guns' sides. "It'll help if you try to think of a pleasant memory."

He gives Gokudera a few more moments to mentally prepare himself.

Then he pulls the trigger, and two bright beams of light - bright pink to the point of almost being indiscernible from white - snake out from the pistols, taking on the shape of the same flower insignia as they head towards Gokudera's chest; and as they envelop Gokudera, then once the initial impact of them thudding against his chest fades, he should find his mind becoming clearer, his memories clicking back into place where they were supposed to be.

It's easier to apologize for what someone feels, especially pain, rather than for anything he's done. Gokudera can take responsibility, but is not eager to hand out apologies when he makes mistakes. Usually if he hurts anyone, it's with full intention to do so.

Gokudera gives a wry breath of a laugh. "Can't tell which pleasant memories are real..." And then he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath.

He didn't grow up in Guardian, with other children. He grew up homeless. His father never attempted to reach out to him... he allowed his son to live on the streets.

Disappointment seeps in. He wasn't raised around sex or prostitution. He was... involved. Everything for the last two years happened... Gokudera puts a hand over his mouth, feeling suddenly ill. He puts his other hand up and turns his head away.

His real life, the truth is uglier than what he thought was real. What Amoi put him through was horrible, but the past it covered feels like something he won't be able to escape. He has... it's okay... it's just the past... he's better... A little overwhelmed, but better.

[closed] sorting out memories

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cw: mild body horror

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