(Untitled)

[gemellaire]

[WHO] Kamui, Fuuma.
[WHAT] It's an emo confrontation?
[WHERE] Somewhere along the streets.
[WHEN] After this thread.

Comments

[i_pandemonium]

It wasn't difficult finding the boy this time. His haste made him sloppy, predictable. It was when Kamui was aimless that Fuuma could find him easiest--odd, but it was the way such things work. And since it works for him, he was not one to complain.

The heavy void where his knife used to be brought him back to the confrontation that had just flared between them. Same old, same old: Kamui being stubborn and himself being scandalously persistent; same age-old recipe that never really produced desirable results. He vaguely understood Kamui's complex with Subaru (hell if he completely understood; he never felt that way towards Seishirou after all--that'd be wrong on so many levels), but what he couldn't grasp was the boy's unwillingness to help himself. It was not a betrayal to think of himself as important, too, especially when what he needed the most was right there in front of him. It baffled and annoyed Fuuma; it was a cruel trick of fate

[gemellaire]

Kamui skidded to an awkward halt just before he ran directly into the very person he had been running from. A part of him was thoroughly embarrassed that he had been so easily seen through, as to have been able to predict his path. The other part of him was too caught up in the moment, too upset by the turn of events, too confused, and somehow too hurt. It was too much to think about all at once, and there was nothing more he wanted than to simply tuck the entire scenario away in some obscure corner in the back of his mind, where he wouldn't have to think about it again.

Turning his head away from the hunter, Kamui took a few sharp steps away from him. Still clutching the knife, he held his arm out (knife firmly in his hand).

"I don't want it," he stated firmly, bangs hanging over his eyes to obscure his eyes from sight. Gruffly, he continued, "...you can have it back."

[i_pandemonium]

He almost caught the boy's wrist, but a second of fear(?) was too fast before a chasm was once again between them.

"If you didn't," Fuuma casually shortened the distance, banking on the precarious hope that he wouldn't run away. Not now. "You'd have thrown it away already."

Speaking of...why hadn't he? Could it be..?

No. Of course not. Now THAT's ridiculous.

Fuuma stopped at arm's length--Kamui's arm anyway--and guided the other's hand to curl around the cold, Swiss-red metal. "You shouldn't throw away presents so easily. You'll never know when it'll be useful." he said, gracing him with a pointed look.

[gemellaire]

Kamui stiffened slightly at the comment and then at the touch, turning his head back around very slightly to gaze at the hunter through the light veil of his bangs. The entire exchange, he thought to himself, was ridiculous in itself. When had it devolved into a matter of gifts and giving and taking?

Casting his eyes away again, he continued to hold his arm straight out, as if unwilling to close the distance between them. Quietly, and more calmly than he had expected of himself, he scowled, "I don't need it. My hands are weapons enough."

Then, after a long pause, he muttered again, "I can't take anything from you."