heavenlydecree | the moon is rising on this dangerous night //

the moon is rising on this dangerous night //

[Takatora had, as usual, buried himself in work all day. He'd even stayed out far later than usual due to a few back-to-back business meetings, though he'd been kind enough to spare a few moments to let Mitsuzane know. He didn't want his younger brother to worry about where he was or why he wasn't home on time. Unfortunately, he was a bit vague with saying "probably around midnight". It had been one of those nights, meetings followed by outings and social drinking. Takatora had honestly never cared for it, but it was something he did because it made business partners happy. People talked a lot more when they had alcohol in their system as well, but Takatora had been careful to be polite in his acceptance of drinks while still going slow enough to maintain his composure. There was always the sinking concern that someone would manipulate information out of him while he was vulnerable. He couldn't allow that to happen.

By the time he returns home, it's closer to twelve-thirty. His clothing and everything about him smells of smoke and alcohol. It makes him a bit self-conscious, knowing it's completely out of character for him. He'd even, on one of his rare instances, accepted a cigarette from a colleague. It was a strange and nostalgic happening, but Takatora had thoroughly washed his mouth out afterwards. Still, the smell of smoke from that and the bar itself clung to him.

Takatora rubs at the back of his neck as he walks through the home, anxious to change out of his clothes. However, in passing Mitsuzane's door, he hesitates and then doubles back. It would be best to check on him in case he'd waited up. So he knocks, careful and light.]

Mitsuzane?

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[Even if Mitsuzane isn't making it obviously, Takatora's well aware of how unpleasant his presence must be. He'd tried to fix his appearance before coming home, but it hadn't worked as well as he'd hoped. He knew he had to look awful and fairly worn out.]

It was a long day.

[He's even more self-conscious now. It's not as though he's setting a bad example, he knows, since this sort of thing is fairly standard, but as a brother... Well, it certainly does make him feel better to see Mitsuzane.]

Is everything well?

[He nods at the question, tilting his head slightly.]

Everything is going all right here. I was just working on some homework. I have a paper due next week.

[Even if he didn't feel all right, there's no way that he can tell Takatora. He needs to keep his image spotless and project innocence rather than what he'd been up to. He can't know about the Beat Riders, he can't know about the Driver, and he can't know about his involvement with anything.]

Do you want me to help you with your things? I can get you a clean set of clothes while you shower.

[It's not like it's something that one of the maids can't do, but it's just more personal when he does it...]

You need to drink some water, too, or your hangover will be worse.

I don't want to disturb you. I can take care of things.

[He scoffs quietly at the rest of the words, motioning to his jacket.]

As bad as it seems, I didn't have as much as you would expect. I'll be fine. ... Don't stay up too late.

[There's a strong, very strong temptation to reach out and touch his younger brother, but Takatora fights it down. It's not appropriate and it's certainly not a good time. He gives a short bow of his head before turning and heading back towards him.]

[That - something feels off. Micchy follows after his brother, watching him carefully.]

I can take care of homework later. I want to help you now. It's not just you who can take care of me - I can help take care of you, too.

[Maybe it's a little pushy, but it's true. There are ways in which he wants to surpass his brother, but that doesn't mean that he doesn't want to care for him, too. They're family, after all.]

[Despite Mitsuzane following him, Takatora's already undressing as he's making his way down the hall. He slips off his jacket, laying it across his arm before untucking his shirt. It's at that point he stops in front of his door, turning back towards Micchy with his hands on his collar.]

I appreciate your thoughtfulness, Mitsuzane, but it's not your place to take care of me.

Why not?

[It's a simple question, really. He suspects the answer will be something along the lines of "because you're the little brother", but that's not really an answer. He may be younger, but he's not little anymore. He's adult enough to be seen as more equal, if not totally equal.]

[Micchy's certainly not far off. It also seems that whatever Takatora's been taking part in that night, it's making him a little more blunt than usual.]

It's my duty to look out for you. To have you do the same for me--

[There's a slight hesitation, where Takatora almost seems as though he won't continue.]

... would mean I've failed. I'm meant to take care of both of us.

[He huffs a little in annoyance. Really? Is that what he thinks?]

No, it means you succeeded. It means that I've learned how to care for other people.

[Or at least give the illusion of it.]

You've taken care of me for a long time. Isn't it right that family should take care of each other? So now that I can, why won't you let me?

Then you can care for the less fortunate. Your friends, those who require it. Your time would be wasted on me.

[The unpleasant feeling of his clothing leads to him opening his door and walking into his room, already knowing Mitsuzane won't drop the topic so easily.]

Why? I can't help but care about you. You're my brother.

[He follows after Takatora, fuming. There's no reason for this. There's no reason to be so adamant about this issue right now, but he can't help it. The way Takatora keeps treating him like a child...]

I'm done discussing this, Mitsuzane.

[It's a very parent-like method of avoidance, but Takatora doesn't want to bother with arguing when he feels like this. He tosses his jacket into a chair and stands at his dresser, clearing his pockets and removing his watch.]

You're not Father, Takatora. You're my brother. And you may be in charge of me, but that doesn't mean you can control me.

[He shrinks back, embarrassed at the words as soon as he says them. What in the world possessed him to say it? Maybe it's Takatora's tone. Maybe it's the fact that he hates seeing his brother like this so much. Maybe it's because he's been wanting to say it for a long time. He's not sure, but he takes a few steps back anyway.]

[If Takatora had bothered to stop and think about what had just happened, he would have been taken aback by Mitsuzane's words. He would have expected them, of course, as any parent expects rebellion from their child at one point or another, but then he would have done his best to remain calm while handling the situation.

Unfortunately, Takatora doesn't stop to think.

It takes only seconds for Takatora to cross the room, grabbing a handful of Mitsuzane's shirt and shoving him against the wall. It's a flicker of the authority he carries as Zangetsu, the feeling he'd carried when fighting Gaim. It was also a side of himself he'd never wanted to expose Mitsuzane to, but what he should and shouldn't be doing hasn't quite sunk in yet.]

When he's not here, I may as well be. Do not fight me, Mitsuzane. For as long as you are here, you will listen to me.

[The flicker of authority startles him, but it doesn't scare him. Any idea of fear is overtaken by anger, and he lashes out with a sharp kick to Takatora's thigh. He doesn't stop to pull his strength in the limited space he has to swing, and so it's a fairly strong attack. It's not even about helping him anymore - it's about being strangled by his authority.]

I will fight you if I have to. If a subject thinks that his ruler's mandates should no longer apply, he has the right to challenge them. I'll listen to you when you make sense.

[The attack catches Takatora completely off guard. His mind is still processing keeping Mitsuzane in place when he's kicked. Instantly, Takatora's hold drops from his younger brother and he stumbles back, falling to a kneel. There's a brief angry glare on his features.]

You have no right to challenge me.

[The glare only serves to fuel his anger, and part of him is watching in horror. The rest of him, however, is still burning with pent-up frustration and rage. His hand shoots out to grab Takatora by the neck.]

By whose reckoning? By yours? Or mine? Because by mine, I'm more than old enough to make my own decisions. I may not be legally an adult, but I'm just as capable as you!

[In some things, at least. In raw talent, maybe. He's aware he doesn't have business skills yet, but it's not like he's not smart.]

[The touch to his throat temporarily disables Takatora. He gasps in a breath, his face flushing red. By the time his mind clicks back to reacting, Takatora tries to lean back, holding Mitsuzane's wrist with his hand and trying to force the grip to relax. This attack in particular had triggered something unrelated, but Takatora's well aware he has to force down his reaction before it can be used against him, now or in the future.]

You're still a child. You don't understand anything.

[Definitely not the right thing to say, but it's true.]

[He can't think anymore. Everything is fuzzy, rage clouding his vision and hearing as Takatora struggles against him. He balls up the fist of his other hand and aims a punch for Takatora's cheek. It's a little weak since it's his non-dominant hand, but it still should hurt.]

[There's something screaming in the back of his mind, crying that he would never hurt his brother, but it's insignificant. It doesn't matter.]

I'm not a child!

[He should have expected the hit. The way Mitsuzane had been talking, the anger Takatora could feel rolling off of him, and knowing that his words would strike the wrong chord... His face stings, aching with a pain he hasn't felt in years, but it's a sensation that immediately brings up unpleasant memories. In a rush, Takatora does his best to stifle them. The past isn't important. Not right now. ... probably not ever again.

Takatora keeps his head turned away, his gaze lowered. He allows Mitsuzane a few moments before he looks up again, moving his jaw in an attempt to get the pain to dull. It only makes it worse.

He'd messed up horribly if Mitsuzane had turned out like this...]

Do you feel better, Mitsuzane?

[Those few moments are enough for the anger to ebb away, and his fists open as he back sup, back against the wall, shaking. He hadn't meant to do that. Even if he'd meant what he said, he hadn't meant to strike Takatora.]

[There's a hollow feeling at the pit of his stomach, and he turns to leave. He can't face Takatora like this. Not with what he did. He needs to get out. He needs to leave. Should he go to the garage? No, there'd be no one there. There's nowhere for him to go at all.]

[Live with your decisions, something says in the back of his mind, but he pushes it aside.]

Mitsuzane.

[There's no way Takatora's letting him leave when he's like this. It takes some effort to get back to his feet, the combination of adrenaline and alcohol in his system making him shaky. Instinctively, he reaches his hand out to grab the other's arm to stop him from going any further.

Should he really be asking anything, after what just happened?]

Don't leave. Not when you're like this.

Edited 2015-02-01 20:36 (UTC)

[He trembles in his brother's grip, his whole body shaking. He's doing his best to breathe properly, but it's hard. Tears are blurring his vision, but he won't let them fall. Not in front of Takatora.]

[He keeps his mouth shut, afraid that he's going to say something to make the situation worse than it already is.]

[The shaking makes his heart sink. Reaching out, Takatora pushes the door closed and then pulls Mitsuzane in against his chest, tightly wrapping his arms around him. It's... ... when was the last time he'd held his younger brother like this? It felt like years, despite how overly affectionate Takatora had been when they were younger. Still, Takatora's comforting instincts slide right back into place as they would when the pair were ten years younger. He carefully brushes his fingers through Mitsuzane's hair, keeping his voice soft.]

It's all right. I'm not mad at you.

[The gentle touch just makes his heart hurt. Why is he acting like this? He should be furious at him, for what he did. Despite the smell, he presses his face against Takatora's shoulder. Nothing makes sense right now. HIs words are muffled as he speaks them.]

I didn't mean to hurt you...

[Takatora doesn't say anything else for the moment, tilting his head down and resting his chin on Mitsuzane's head. He continues gently stroking his brother's hair, the uncomfortable sinking feeling still in his stomach. His leg and cheekbone still ache, he's sure that he'll have bruises in the morning.]

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