[This is spamming Ezio's inbox, but Ichigo really doesn't care anymore. His breath is ragged, coming out in pants, as if he's been running for a while.
Which, well...he has.]
Dammit....Goddamnit!
[He lets out an explosively loud exhale, and what sounds like a fist hitting a wall is heard.]
[Then the silence is broken by panting again, but it's full of pain this time.]
Aah...nnngh-!
[There's the sound of fabric scraping across the ground, coupled with more grunts of pain.]
Wh...What's...my-ghhh!
[A loud scrape, that time. Is he thrashing around?]
F-Feels like...Agh! My chest...! W-Why-Nnghaaaah!
[More thrashing, more cries of pain. It goes on for what seems like hours, although in reality it's only a minute or two. Then there's an incredibly loud cry from him, and then-
And then-
It sounds like a popping noise, like air trying to escape past liquid. A noise that should be familiar to Ezio, if he ever played this back.
After that, there is only silence for five minutes before the recording stops.]
That arm rest by his bed? Is being gripped so hard his knuckles are turning white. It's a good thing no one is in the room right now or else he'd throw something or yell at them in anger.
Lying on this bed, listening to Ichigo writhe in pain... he feels entirely small, and absolutely helpless.]
[And then, the death rattle passes, and his heart sinks. He knows that sound better than anyone else.
Eyes close and for the longest time, he doesn't open them, doesn't say anything. His room is dark and silent and without interruptions and he needs that right now. Needs the quiet and the solace and the air that has suddenly gone cold around his lungs, made it difficult to breathe, needs the touch of death's fingers around his neck to remind him he is the walking symbol and living embodiment of the one thing everyone fears.
His brow furrows and for a split second, remorse makes its way onto his face. It's regret at causing more death, and not only that, but the death of a close friend. Then, it vanishes, eyes finally opening into the emptiness of a room that was full of life only seconds ago.
Were he able, Ezio would simply rise from his bed, don his hood, and disappear into the night. There were some things better left to grieve on his own time, in a location he felt comfortable. Here was not such a place.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Fourth day, afternoon, accidental
Which, well...he has.]
Dammit....Goddamnit!
[He lets out an explosively loud exhale, and what sounds like a fist hitting a wall is heard.]
I-huff-I've been out all day!
[Another thud is heard.]
I've checked all-hff-all the damn districts! Combed through-haah-the freaky faceless crowds!
[Thud.]
Checking the fucking-nghh-rooftops everywhere I could reach-climbing nearly goddamn everything!
[Thud. Thud. Thud.]
And even after-Fuck, even after all that, I-
[Thud thud thud thud]
I still can't fucking find him?!
[THUD.
Silence.]
Re: Fourth day, afternoon, accidental
Aah...nnngh-!
[There's the sound of fabric scraping across the ground, coupled with more grunts of pain.]
Wh...What's...my-ghhh!
[A loud scrape, that time. Is he thrashing around?]
F-Feels like...Agh! My chest...! W-Why-Nnghaaaah!
[More thrashing, more cries of pain. It goes on for what seems like hours, although in reality it's only a minute or two. Then there's an incredibly loud cry from him, and then-
And then-
It sounds like a popping noise, like air trying to escape past liquid. A noise that should be familiar to Ezio, if he ever played this back.
After that, there is only silence for five minutes before the recording stops.]
[REACTION] 1/?
He doesn't know if listening to this will only wrench his heart more, or possibly lighten things a little.]
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But Ezio actually left. How long did he search...?]
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Ichigo. Be careful.]
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Just how long does he plan on chasing the wind? With each message, Ezio's heart only sinks more.]
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That arm rest by his bed? Is being gripped so hard his knuckles are turning white. It's a good thing no one is in the room right now or else he'd throw something or yell at them in anger.
Lying on this bed, listening to Ichigo writhe in pain... he feels entirely small, and absolutely helpless.]
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Eyes close and for the longest time, he doesn't open them, doesn't say anything. His room is dark and silent and without interruptions and he needs that right now. Needs the quiet and the solace and the air that has suddenly gone cold around his lungs, made it difficult to breathe, needs the touch of death's fingers around his neck to remind him he is the walking symbol and living embodiment of the one thing everyone fears.
His brow furrows and for a split second, remorse makes its way onto his face. It's regret at causing more death, and not only that, but the death of a close friend. Then, it vanishes, eyes finally opening into the emptiness of a room that was full of life only seconds ago.
Were he able, Ezio would simply rise from his bed, don his hood, and disappear into the night. There were some things better left to grieve on his own time, in a location he felt comfortable. Here was not such a place.]
OKAY DONE.
It never gets any easier to say.]
...Requiescat in pace.
[He's going to speak to Ichigo, again. Soon. There are some things the boy knows well, and others that will get him killed, just like this did.
And if there is anything Ezio does not want while he is here, it is that more blood be spilled for his sake, or for those who know him.]