Not since he'd been deposited here, not since he'd woken up. The strap of the pack had long bitten into the meat of his shoulder even through his coat, but it had only served as a distraction. It had kept him grounded through his fatigue, his stomach filled only by the knowledge he'd kept. There wasn't much here, but there wasn't much anywhere. And besides, why would it matter without a solid plan? How could he trust to do more than that, when he could trust so little to begin with? He'd seen enough to know that he was not alone, but it was that fear of what he did know that kept him restless.
And, from what he could discern, his lack of knowledge was widespread. It was rampant. And Ryo, Ryo refused to be part of those who settled in when he had —
But, Ryo Asuka had always been a fickle thing. And his heart, too, had always possessed a singular target since the start of this all. And so, when he hears his name, there's no doubt that his plans have shifted.
He needn't think on it. ]
Akira!
[ It comes all at once, a sharp exhalation. The syllables break easy against his teeth like waves to a shore, familiar and well-worn. He knows that voice. He knows that form. He needn't even look up, but he does. He doesn't have a choice. For as long as he'd known Akira Fudo, Ryo'd known his attention had come to house itself against his skin. And now, it returns to where it lives.
And instinct — it's just as declarative. Already, he's pushing his way through the treeline. His feet have decided for themselves to find a way to his side, his eyes fixed on the breaks in the evergreen. The lay of decay that coats the forest floor does nothing at all deter and neither does the network of roots beneath. In a way, isn't just as suiting that that lack of grace never finds him? Isn't it just as suiting that even now, in this place that has nothing at all he can place realization in, Ryo can rest relief in him?
Human beings are not known for their speed. He can't keep up with the powerful press and push of wings. Forever bound by gravity, it was only a human's reason and endurance that kept them going this long. And without the former, for the moment, it's only that perseverance that pushes him on.
He runs on that alone, both literal and figurative.
When catches up, he stills before the outcrop — shakes the sharp scent of pine from his hair and opens up his posture, the heavy canvas of his coat settling back against him. He doesn't pause for long, before he's climbing his way up to where he is. He has to be sure. He needs to be. ]
no subject
Not since he'd been deposited here, not since he'd woken up. The strap of the pack had long bitten into the meat of his shoulder even through his coat, but it had only served as a distraction. It had kept him grounded through his fatigue, his stomach filled only by the knowledge he'd kept. There wasn't much here, but there wasn't much anywhere. And besides, why would it matter without a solid plan? How could he trust to do more than that, when he could trust so little to begin with? He'd seen enough to know that he was not alone, but it was that fear of what he did know that kept him restless.
And, from what he could discern, his lack of knowledge was widespread. It was rampant. And Ryo, Ryo refused to be part of those who settled in when he had —
But, Ryo Asuka had always been a fickle thing. And his heart, too, had always possessed a singular target since the start of this all. And so, when he hears his name, there's no doubt that his plans have shifted.
He needn't think on it. ]
Akira!
[ It comes all at once, a sharp exhalation. The syllables break easy against his teeth like waves to a shore, familiar and well-worn. He knows that voice. He knows that form. He needn't even look up, but he does. He doesn't have a choice. For as long as he'd known Akira Fudo, Ryo'd known his attention had come to house itself against his skin. And now, it returns to where it lives.
And instinct — it's just as declarative. Already, he's pushing his way through the treeline. His feet have decided for themselves to find a way to his side, his eyes fixed on the breaks in the evergreen. The lay of decay that coats the forest floor does nothing at all deter and neither does the network of roots beneath. In a way, isn't just as suiting that that lack of grace never finds him? Isn't it just as suiting that even now, in this place that has nothing at all he can place realization in, Ryo can rest relief in him?
Human beings are not known for their speed. He can't keep up with the powerful press and push of wings. Forever bound by gravity, it was only a human's reason and endurance that kept them going this long. And without the former, for the moment, it's only that perseverance that pushes him on.
He runs on that alone, both literal and figurative.
When catches up, he stills before the outcrop — shakes the sharp scent of pine from his hair and opens up his posture, the heavy canvas of his coat settling back against him. He doesn't pause for long, before he's climbing his way up to where he is. He has to be sure. He needs to be. ]