[Takeshi doesn't move despite Hayato's frantic struggling with the bars, though his scars crept up his face to watch him. He wanted to tell him to calm down, but how could he? He understood what he was feeling. He really did, it was just...]
He never escaped. Not really.
Look at him. He won't even fight anymore. He knows there's no point.
It won't give him back his hands.
It won't wash away the bloodstains.
It won't stop the voices.
It's no use. Pathetic. Useless. Monster. Murderer!
[The voices don't stop there, but continue in a cacophony of noise, insults and jabs overlapping as if the room is filled with people. Takeshi, his scars fully formed now, turns away to return to the back of the cell, his hands over his ears. It does nothing to block them out. It never did.]
[Gods. He'd grown accustomed to hearing these kinds of words tossed around inside his head all the time, but this was a new level of unbearable. The white sterile walls made him feel ill to look at, and he couldn't think for the voices shouting in his head. He sinks to his knees, hands still over his ears.]
[He didn't know what to do, but he couldn't bear the thought of Hayato standing there behind him when he was like this.]
no subject
[Takeshi doesn't move despite Hayato's frantic struggling with the bars, though his scars crept up his face to watch him. He wanted to tell him to calm down, but how could he? He understood what he was feeling. He really did, it was just...]
He never escaped. Not really.
Look at him. He won't even fight anymore. He knows there's no point.
It won't give him back his hands.
It won't wash away the bloodstains.
It won't stop the voices.
It's no use. Pathetic. Useless. Monster. Murderer!
[The voices don't stop there, but continue in a cacophony of noise, insults and jabs overlapping as if the room is filled with people. Takeshi, his scars fully formed now, turns away to return to the back of the cell, his hands over his ears. It does nothing to block them out. It never did.]
[Gods. He'd grown accustomed to hearing these kinds of words tossed around inside his head all the time, but this was a new level of unbearable. The white sterile walls made him feel ill to look at, and he couldn't think for the voices shouting in his head. He sinks to his knees, hands still over his ears.]
[He didn't know what to do, but he couldn't bear the thought of Hayato standing there behind him when he was like this.]
Hayato, just go!