[backdated to like end of september] he's the kid with the story no one would believe

[tinyprotector]

Yukio breaks his glasses a lot.

This pair has a lens that's near shattered. Spiderweb cracks crawl out from the corner of the lens all the way to the nosepiece. He can barely see out of that side.

But that's fine. Yukio wasn't supposed to be seeing anything anyways. Not with the gash over his chest, the same lines spreading from his glasses spreading out over his abdomen. He can still see the blood and the tears in the fabric. If he closes his eyes, he can still see the claws. But there's nothing left except a nasty, but closed, scar.

He's not sure what room he's woken up in. Something made of stone, like the rest. Some room he's never going to leave. He'll just stay here until something kills him again. Another monster. Another demon.

He curls up on his side to bury his face in his hands.

Eventually, when his stomach bothers him enough, he'll realize he needs to at least eat. No point starving himself. Even if it'll make him less of a meal for the creatures here, he's not hopeless enough to contemplate suicide.

It's when he's rooting through the cupboards that he notices the knives. Sharp steel. They look like they're brand new, despite being in this ancient castle. They remind him of the ones Rin borrowed to cook, ones Shiro insisted on watching Rin use the first few times.

Hold the blade away, Rin. That's it. You have to be careful with something sharp like this. You could take an eye out. And we've made more than enough trips to the hospital lately, eh?

Before Yukio's realized it, the blade is in his hands. It feels... good. To touch something. He feels a bit more certain this is actually real. That he's not just in some twisted afterlife, some hell worse than any Bible stories could have warned him about.

It feels good to have a weapon.

It's not a gun, true. But Father said an exorcist has to adapt to the situation at hand.

He tried to trust this place wasn't Gehenna. It got him... nearly killed. Did he die? He can't be sure in this twisted place. All he knows now is that there's no point in trusting anymore.

Comments

[dustless]

That is a kid with a knife.

They see the knife before who it is, actually. They don't...like seeing kids with knives. Or anyone. But especially kids. It makes them feel...cold. Really cold. Like all their body heat's being drained out, a punctured bottle of water.

Frisk leans against the doorway, expressionless. "Hey, Yukio. Whatcha doing with that?" Doesn't look like he's cooking.

[tinyprotector]

That is indeed a kid with a knife. A kid in a green sweater too, so Frisk isn’t really misguided to be nervous for a moment.

Still, when Yukio hears Frisk’s voice and turns around, he doesn’t look as comfortable with a knife as some would. He’s shaking just a bit, especially to see someone who told him that monsters… demons… were to be trusted.

“…Nothing. Just wanted something… just in case.”

His shirt is torn and covered with stains.

[dustless]

Blankness shifts to concern, head bobbing as they take a look at...everything. The shirt, the shaking. He looks like he did when he first got here.

"What's wrong? What happened?" Frisk shuffles in place. They want to step forward, but that knife--he might hurt them or himself if he's not careful, and he doesn't look like careful's on his radar.

[tinyprotector]

“Nothing. Got hurt by something. Not important.”

He glares at them a little and turns away, back to looking through the drawers. He isn’t really feeling much like talking to them, but he doesn’t want to be needlessly cruel. They can keep thinking the monsters are safe here if they want.

[dustless]

He doesn't want them to be asking, obviously, but...he's hurt. They stay where they are and push.

"...think it is. Important."

[tinyprotector]

Pushing gets him to look back at them, more anger seeping into his expression as he clenches his fist around the knife.

“…You were wrong. That’s all. You told me monsters were safe and they weren’t. You lied.”

assuming is bad frisk

[dustless]

They stiffen, looking like he'd spat at their face, before they manage to force themselves to relax.

"I didn't lie. If a monster tried to fight you--" they glance at the knife "--there's usually a reason for it. Humans were horrible to monsters for a long time, you know."

Frisk oh my god now he’s even more pissy

[tinyprotector]

“There wasn’t a reason! I wasn’t even doing anything. I was just getting a book and the next thing I know…”

He looks down at the marks on his sweater.

“What reason would someone have t-to…” He can’t even say it. He’s going to be sick.

T-T

[dustless]

Their eyes slide down.

"... Who did it?" they ask, voice flat. Did someone see a green sweater and assume they were looking at a Chara?

[tinyprotector]

“I don’t know. Some big monster. Had scales and big teeth and a tail. Didn’t really get a name.”

Which makes sense, since the creature was far more focused on digging his claws into him.

[dustless]

Frisk breathes in sharply, something icy coiling in their stomach.

"...did the monster look...like a crocodile?"

[tinyprotector]

“Yes. I think so…”

He was kind of focused on trying to get away, but that does match with the features he remembers.

[dustless]

And there it is.



"You got--you got--Killer Croc got you?"

...but they need to defend their friends. Even with their mouth covered in horror, they need to get in more words. "I--h-he's not a monster, he's--not, he's something else."

[tinyprotector]

“He… I guess so.” Was that his name? He doesn’t even know and the more they talk about this, the less he wants to find out.

“…He looked like a monster. I don’t know anymore. I just…” Tears are streaming from his eyes now. “I don’t want to be hurt anymore.”