A Reflection of the Past [AO | TBTP | Closed] Jun 12, 2017 15:35:39 GMT -5
Post by Mako Fujita on Jun 12, 2017 15:35:39 GMT -5
WARNING: Mention of suicide, depression, murder, sexual and physical abuse, as well as other adult themes.
Three months. He'd been training with Zabel for that long- and yet he could still tell he was severely lacking in so many aspects it wasn't even funny. His body had been healed quite a bit, he was eating a decent amount now, but he was still limited in exactly what he was capable of. It was hard to accept, but he knew it was due to the simple fact that physically, he still had a long way to go. He had been tied down by his fear for so long that he was now struggling to properly understand exactly what to do when he was attacked- years of instincts told him that he needed to run away. His reflexes were sharp- but in a way that made combat incredibly difficult- he was constantly forced to correct his natural reactions.
This was the problem that Mako was currently dealing with- wielding the long bokken, reinforced with a metal rod inside its core- the boy was swinging the weapon repeatedly at the large tree stump he was using as a makeshift training dummy. Years of stumbling, of desire to run- not fight, had to be torn down before actual combat reflexes could be built on his body as a core. Zabel had helped him heal, both mentally, and physically- but he knew how stunted he still was. But he also knew he couldn't just rely on her for everything, Yuuta was learning, but it wasn't the same thing- he couldn't bring himself to fight him actively. Teaching him was fine, especially since he knew the boy was desperate to become a Shinigami .. but how was he supposed to teach when he was still learning so heavily as well?
It was a complicated, and annoying line of thought. It was even more troubling because this desire for strength was completely new to him- he still didn't know how to deal with it, how to properly measure his effort, and balance it out with rest. Training, trying, goals- they were all things he had completely abandoned for most of his life, and here he was, starting far to late- when the damage had already been done to his psyche. Every time he swung the bokken, he couldn't help but silently question why he was even bothering. Even as his mind worked, telling him the choice had already been made, that he could no longer turn back- still, his subconscious questioned it, all of it. Why was he bothering? Why did he keep swinging the bokken, trying to correct a swing that he had no strength to even use?
Every time those thoughts entered his mind, Mako was forced to think of Moriko, and Yuuta- as well as his father. The three intertwined his promise to Yuuta to become stronger. His word to Moriko that he would do everything in his power to stay alive- to find a real reason to live. Then the negative influence in the shape of his father .. of that overwhelming reality of pain, and likely- death, that would befall him if he came crawling back to the man now. He could feel the strikes already, feel the blood drip down his skin, his flesh tear, his bones snap. If he gave up now, if he allowed his subconscious, his weakness, to win here- then he would die. In doing so, he would break his oath to Moriko- and for some reason, he couldn't explain .. he despised the idea of doing that.
It was odd. He had tried to kill himself, he felt no real need to survive on his own really- there was nothing he wanted to do for himself, he had nothing. He was worthless, weak, replaceable in every way with a superior version of anything that he could do. Yet- a single oath to Moriko, a single oath to one of the few people in his life that had ever tried to care, and he had managed to not only stay alive .. but find a goal. The proof was in the soreness of his hands from his grip, the way his calm, blank eyes stared at the trunk without a word- not a single expression adorned his face. Despite everything, Mako still couldn't find it in himself to show his emotions- be it out of habit, or fear, he was no longer certain, but there was a slight difference now.
He no longer felt the terror that pushed him into his "attacks" just by existing around others. He still didn't like to be touched, he still hated adults on an instinctive level- especially males- but at the same time, he no longer felt as though his heart would beat out of his chest the moment one came near. His body was sloppy, his movements were incorrect, his determination was weak- his willpower was lacking, there was still little to nothing good about him, and he knew that. But there was still an improvement, and he could feel it- the dark thoughts lingered at the edge of his mind, but they no longer dominated it. His weak will, his desire to give up and die, still floated in his mind but it was chased out by his oaths and promises- his desire, however weak it was, to become more.
Even if that desire was not stemming from himself- but from others, a desire to protect others? He wasn't certain. All he knew was it was different, emotions, feelings, thoughts he had never had- now pushed him to attempt to better himself .. and though he'd never vocalize it, that much he felt was an improvement. That was why the bokken continued to swing as he tried to correct his reactions, his weapon crashing into the wood- the sound causing him to jump in fear, struggling to fight his own reactions that commanded him to flee the moment the loud sound filled the air. He had to learn control, that was what he struggled with- fighting against his own reflexes, reactions, and instincts in order to build new ones- it was far more difficult than he had expected.
Learning the attacks and movements was easy.
He had seen Zabel perform the movements. He had mimicked them perfectly. But the issue was that despite that mimicry- his body was too weak to properly perform it, perfect mimicry without stamina was useless. To make it even worse due to his innate fear- every time his weapon made contact with something, it bounced and scared him. It was troublesome, but he didn't want to ask Zabel to help with this too- he already owed her, whether she said it or not, and though he didn't mind that too much because he knew much of what she had done had been out of selfish intent to feel better about herself .. a large portion of it was not. Owing her any further favors wasn't acceptable, he needed to solve this problem some other way.
But doing it on his own was much more difficult than he had originally anticipated.
Tags: Hitsuyona Shizukesa
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