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subaru was aware, very aware, that his investment in a coffin was one of the best that he had made. it was just the thing that he hadn't wanted to go and get one that kept him back for so long. when his brothers were around, there had been no reason to get one; ayato would have made fun of him for being traditional and kanato would have asked him why he wouldn't sleep in a bed. and he wouldn't be able to answer kanato's question, because his older, half brother would never understand.
because the thing about being shut in a coffin was that it was the easiest was to shut out the world. as soon as the door closed, there was nothing but him. there was only silence in a coffin, and nothing but darkness to look at. there was no powerlessness, silver blades, reminders of how thirsty he was. there were no full moons and no temper to have to control when anyone else was around. and there were no white rose to remind him of what he could and couldn't do.
inside of a coffin, there was nothing. inside of a coffin, there was zero.
and sometimes, he wondered if that was what he wanted. he knew that his tribemates loved him dearly- the oldies, at least. they thought they knew he wouldn't do anything to them because he was nicer than the other sakamaki. they knew that he wouldn't outright get at their blood without a reason, and they knew that on a full moon he was nowhere to be found for the entire day and night, only to return the next day looking tired and with scratches all over him. he never spoke of what he did or why, since they wouldn't quite understand it, being the people they were. those who tried to act sympathetic didn't get it. they just... didn't get it. he could pretend for a while at those times that he was a nice person, that people could actually think he was cool sometimes. the times where he didn't do anything that make them want him out. the times that they wouldn't have to do anything to drive him away.
those were times that he knew that he considered the tribe his family, and when he knew that he had the power to protect them. that was, of course, until he made their lives flip upside down. when he did something stupid that was at the cost of their trust all over again after working to get it back. first, it was killing someone in cold blood for the sake of blood. and then, it was the incident with kim. and shika.
he knew that his very existence was something like a crime, and he should be locked up in prison for it. his just being around reduced many people that he came in contact with to zero, and he hated himself for it. he caused so much pain left and right just because he was a vampire, or other things. the things that he wanted didn't quite line up with anyone else's wants and needs. he was three paces ahead of everyone and they weren't ready for what he had to say and do. and he wasn't willing to slow down and catch up at all, which was something that made it even worse. why couldn't he just be normal? he hated....he hated ayato and kanato. he hated the people who gave him bad looks and made him want to kill them. but he hated himself more than everyone.
sometimes, like at this very moment, when he bent down to get a drink of water from a lake, his throat dry and never quenched with the flavorless liquid that filled it, he saw his reflection in the ripples that his tongue left. it was a broken reflection that was not whole. his eyes were the color of vengance and hatred, his fur all over the place. he looked like he just barely survived a hurricane. he destroyed everything and everyone that he came in contact with one by one without permission or reason; it was just a fact that he was always angry without anything to say about it as an excuse.
without second thoughts he flashes out his paw and beats at the reflection in the water, and it does nothing but getd him all wet. and it makes him even more angry, enough to take his claws and rip his skin apart again. to make scars. he held his claws right over his foreleg and pressed down. he hated himself. he really did. he was always angry, always destroying. he had not a twitch of sympathy or empathy for anyone. so he pressed down more. it hurt, so he grew his claws along it slowly with a face of stone. it would sting more later on, but right now he couldn't feel it, since he had too many emotions to manage.
this was why inside a coffin, there was nothing. because sometimes he wished there was nothing. no brothers, no clan, no clanmates that he wanted to protect. no feelings of needing to get closer to people for a reason he still couldn't figure out. no silver knife that he could spawn at will, waiting to be used to kill one of his own kind. waiting to shed the blood of someone he loved. the blood started to trickle down his leg, and he watched it make its way to the water. to taint it, stain it. this was what he was doing to his tribe, wasn't it? he was making them worse.
and at times when his anger took over and he destroyed things, people wanted to act like they cared. they acted like he was an actual person that deserved their pity. they acted like he was someone that they actually wanted to see in good health. but in reality he was nothing but a monster, right?
even outside of a coffin. for him, there was nothing. he isolated himself from everyone, lets no one get too close. he hated himself. he hated his brothers, and they weren't even full, blood brothers. he operated completely outside of everyone's circles of buddies, and didn't understand what made them so happy, to be around people that they hadn't even thought about prior to coming to this place where they had something in common; a clan they wanted to protect.
in that sense, what did he have? just that? there was more than one person in toms who was willing to give their life for the group, but to subaru he was attached to this place. it was home, and had been... forever. kanato had left. ayato changed his name and was gone- he was parhelionlogic now. nothing could ever stop him from being the same person, but he was still different. they didn't understand what it was like to have a home. they didn't understand him. no one did.
and as he sat there, settling into a resting position with his head on his paws, which one was still bleeding, he wondered. without this group, a place to call home when he came back from those nights where he couldn't control himself at his very worst, what would he have?
//1211 words 'w'
