[Without protest he goes down onto the wooden porch, settling comfortably into Cy's body like territory charted and well-known, physical affection a buffer against the emotion that subdues him now in its endless tide. He doesn't know how long they stay there, but it's enough to feel as if the angle of light has changed — its yellow cast slanted through trees, shadows softening at the edges. If only a change in the weave of illusion, it feels real. He can pretend they're truly here together for a moment.
Then finally Sasuke stands, sliding open the shoji screen at their backs, hand coaxing Cy with him in order to lead their path inside. Almost without thinking he sheds his shoes. The house is cool and quiet, outdoor noises a gentle ambience through the open screen. He does not spend much time navigating through the greater rooms, in particular avoids one that remains closed — and it may be only a trick of the light, a wrinkle in the Sharingan's veil, but the door to that rooms seems darker, further away, burdened by an old scar of grief and kept purposefully out of the sunshine.
They pass through the kitchen, the hall that had once seemed endlessly long to him — and find themselves in a child's bedroom, everything tidily kept. Motes of dust look golden in the light spilling in through a half-curtained window. A green dinosaur watches them from atop the bed with beady black eyes.]
no subject
Then finally Sasuke stands, sliding open the shoji screen at their backs, hand coaxing Cy with him in order to lead their path inside. Almost without thinking he sheds his shoes. The house is cool and quiet, outdoor noises a gentle ambience through the open screen. He does not spend much time navigating through the greater rooms, in particular avoids one that remains closed — and it may be only a trick of the light, a wrinkle in the Sharingan's veil, but the door to that rooms seems darker, further away, burdened by an old scar of grief and kept purposefully out of the sunshine.
They pass through the kitchen, the hall that had once seemed endlessly long to him — and find themselves in a child's bedroom, everything tidily kept. Motes of dust look golden in the light spilling in through a half-curtained window. A green dinosaur watches them from atop the bed with beady black eyes.]
... This was mine.