(no subject)
Title: unsettling
Prompt: 11. face value
Word Count: 369
Summary: Tsuzuki prioritizes someone else above himself, but it won't last.
Author Notes/Warnings: aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaangst. Post-Queen Camellia arc.
Tsuzuki was the last person in the universe to give himself credit for anything. He was a master of deflecting compliments, or acting like he was arrogantly accepting of praise without really meaning it. Unless it was something that benefited others and was ultimately self-deprecating, he threw everything back.
One thing he was particularly, if poignantly proud of was his ability to keep himself in check. No, it wasn't as foolproof as he'd like; yes, his partner did have a potentially troublesome ability that could sniff out the truth of Tsuzuki's mind behind the smile. But Tsuzuki had learned, slowly and painfully, how to hide himself. Letting everything just go and be had ended up being almost as much of a strain on those around him as it was on himself. He had learned not to. They didn't deserve that.
Hisoka least of all. Especially after this...
The way the young shinigami usually acted, one might think you'd see tears squeezed out of a rock before he'd even look uncomfortable. But he had wept with such fear and heartbreak as the Queen Camellia sank. He had broken all his usual barriers and let himself be held, and be seen to weep openly.
Tsuzuki hurt for him and with him, was ready to offer what little comfort he could. He felt honored, in a way, to be given that privilege. As a person, it was his inherent need to help. As Hisoka's partner, it was his job to be his support, if he was allowed.
So that's would he would do. Be strong, be stupid and silly. A rock to lean on, always with a smile and a kind word. Whatever he himself was feeling would be quietly filed away for another time. They would be more irrelevant than ever in the face of someone else's grief.
But through days of filing and Watari's latest explosions and being yelled at for late paperwork, it wasn't long before a nagging thought floated up to unsettle his resolve. A small hiccup that would make his smiles falter, the playful noogies a little less enthusiastic, and cause brief silences in his inane babbling.
"I'm trying to make things okay for you. ...But who's going to make things okay for me?"
Prompt: 11. face value
Word Count: 369
Summary: Tsuzuki prioritizes someone else above himself, but it won't last.
Author Notes/Warnings: aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaangst. Post-Queen Camellia arc.
Tsuzuki was the last person in the universe to give himself credit for anything. He was a master of deflecting compliments, or acting like he was arrogantly accepting of praise without really meaning it. Unless it was something that benefited others and was ultimately self-deprecating, he threw everything back.
One thing he was particularly, if poignantly proud of was his ability to keep himself in check. No, it wasn't as foolproof as he'd like; yes, his partner did have a potentially troublesome ability that could sniff out the truth of Tsuzuki's mind behind the smile. But Tsuzuki had learned, slowly and painfully, how to hide himself. Letting everything just go and be had ended up being almost as much of a strain on those around him as it was on himself. He had learned not to. They didn't deserve that.
Hisoka least of all. Especially after this...
The way the young shinigami usually acted, one might think you'd see tears squeezed out of a rock before he'd even look uncomfortable. But he had wept with such fear and heartbreak as the Queen Camellia sank. He had broken all his usual barriers and let himself be held, and be seen to weep openly.
Tsuzuki hurt for him and with him, was ready to offer what little comfort he could. He felt honored, in a way, to be given that privilege. As a person, it was his inherent need to help. As Hisoka's partner, it was his job to be his support, if he was allowed.
So that's would he would do. Be strong, be stupid and silly. A rock to lean on, always with a smile and a kind word. Whatever he himself was feeling would be quietly filed away for another time. They would be more irrelevant than ever in the face of someone else's grief.
But through days of filing and Watari's latest explosions and being yelled at for late paperwork, it wasn't long before a nagging thought floated up to unsettle his resolve. A small hiccup that would make his smiles falter, the playful noogies a little less enthusiastic, and cause brief silences in his inane babbling.
"I'm trying to make things okay for you. ...But who's going to make things okay for me?"