[The two of them, defined by the wars they fight, stand linked hand in hand - but they're unyieldingly different. As if either's grip could begin to pull, gravity rather than will seeking to dislodge the other from the precipice they teeter on.
But for now there's a balance: Takasugi thinks and Mikazuki acts, Takasugi's ribs ache and Mikazuki has known relief.
But they aren't divided.
Somehow, their gravities have pulled one another into a steady orbit.
Takasugi won't pull, and disturb the calm (not peace, not for him) he's found.]
Relief... to be inexorably bound to your purpose. Aa. There's solace in that.
Are you comfortable, with your body given back? [Repaired by the Natha, as if they give something by culling the atrophy from him.]
no subject
But for now there's a balance: Takasugi thinks and Mikazuki acts, Takasugi's ribs ache and Mikazuki has known relief.
But they aren't divided.
Somehow, their gravities have pulled one another into a steady orbit.
Takasugi won't pull, and disturb the calm (not peace, not for him) he's found.]
Relief... to be inexorably bound to your purpose. Aa. There's solace in that.
Are you comfortable, with your body given back? [Repaired by the Natha, as if they give something by culling the atrophy from him.]