The silence lasted long enough that if Hiko hadn't known better, he'd have thought the line had gone dead. But this was Kenshin, and it wasn't the first time Hiko had waited for him to gather his words. So he stared out the window into the deepening night and waited out the pause, not even realizing he was holding his breath.
"A hitokiri…Is a hitokiri."
Hiko closed his eyes and reached for the window frame to steady himself.
"Someone died…because I was an idiot."
It wasn't enough to go on. Had he…What? Killed someone? Slipped up? Made a mistake and someone got caught in the crossfire? The possibilities were endless, and Hiko's mind was going into overdrive.
Shishou…someone like me…shouldn't have survived."
His hand tightened on the frame as he released the breath he'd been holding and inhaled, only to let all the air whoosh out in a long sigh. It had been so long since he'd heard that name. But what came after made his heart clench. They'd been through that already, for all the good it seemed to do. How many times had he'd had a trembling child crawl into his bed after a nightmare? Baka deshi, it's not your fault. It was never your fault. Now. Go to sleep… A heavy hand on a small back, until it rose and fell with the deep, even breath of slumber.
Opening his eyes, Hiko stared unseeingly out the window a long moment. Of course he would survive. The drug, it ensured survival. Even when one might fervently wish it didn't. So someone had died. And of course the idiot was blaming himself. He always blamed himself.
"Yes, you should." Sharp as a whip-crack. "That's what you do, you idiot. You survive. I don't know what-all you've gotten into, but--"
He stopped abruptly. There wasn't enough to go on. What could he say without details? All he had was his idiot's voice, and that…well. It didn't sound good. It dawned on him that he hadn't needed to dial long-distance, so Kenshin was likely closer than he could have imagined. And Hiko had prided himself on his awareness. Pieces began to fall together, too late. The vigilante. That idiot was right here in the city.
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"A hitokiri…Is a hitokiri."
Hiko closed his eyes and reached for the window frame to steady himself.
"Someone died…because I was an idiot."
It wasn't enough to go on. Had he…What? Killed someone? Slipped up? Made a mistake and someone got caught in the crossfire? The possibilities were endless, and Hiko's mind was going into overdrive.
Shishou…someone like me…shouldn't have survived."
His hand tightened on the frame as he released the breath he'd been holding and inhaled, only to let all the air whoosh out in a long sigh. It had been so long since he'd heard that name. But what came after made his heart clench. They'd been through that already, for all the good it seemed to do. How many times had he'd had a trembling child crawl into his bed after a nightmare? Baka deshi, it's not your fault. It was never your fault. Now. Go to sleep… A heavy hand on a small back, until it rose and fell with the deep, even breath of slumber.
Opening his eyes, Hiko stared unseeingly out the window a long moment. Of course he would survive. The drug, it ensured survival. Even when one might fervently wish it didn't. So someone had died. And of course the idiot was blaming himself. He always blamed himself.
"Yes, you should." Sharp as a whip-crack. "That's what you do, you idiot. You survive. I don't know what-all you've gotten into, but--"
He stopped abruptly. There wasn't enough to go on. What could he say without details? All he had was his idiot's voice, and that…well. It didn't sound good. It dawned on him that he hadn't needed to dial long-distance, so Kenshin was likely closer than he could have imagined. And Hiko had prided himself on his awareness. Pieces began to fall together, too late. The vigilante. That idiot was right here in the city.
"Kenshin, where are you?"