WE COULD BE IMMORTALS // o, joiner

[AKUMA HIMURA B.]

[shadow=CD8C95,right]AKUMA HIMURA BASKERVILLE[/shadow]

IT'S GOOD TO MEET YOU, MY CRIME AND PUNISHMENT !

There wasn't a day that Akuma did not think of Hikari. He may not allude to his thoughts what with his easygoing mannerisms and charming smile and, overall, laid-back and unfettered veneer, but the weight of the loss he felt when he lost Hikari to that fire was always weighing on his mind. It was one tragedy after another, it seemed. Sometimes he would pass out in his room when he pushed himself too far and he would dream of that day, where fire seared and smoke choked his lungs, where fear ran rampant in his blood, eyes wide and hopelessly searching for the boy trapped behind a tall wall of flame Akuma just couldn't get past, still oh-so frail. And he would get up, stare vacant throughout the entire day, but he wouldn't dare cry. Loss was too frequent for Akuma, but wouldn't it be horrible of him if he just got used to it and just stopped caring about those whose lives were forcibly taken from them? He had to care somewhat, otherwise what humanity would he have left? None.

But then again, why pretend to be what he wasn't?

He was a tangle of emotions. What the Abyss had turned him into at the cost of living had been eternal and he was a mess. He supposed the most important thing was that he missed his son. He missed him so much. The servacal makes his way through the vaguely familiar territory now, having had yet another dream about that unpleasant experience, and then a voice reaches his ears. At first, he doesn't recognize it - his little Hikari had grown so much - but the surnames that followed had him stumbling towards the sound of the voice in seconds. He rounds a corner, and there he was. Hikari - no, Tadashi. What does it even matter? His son was alive.

"Ika . . ." He murmurs, staring dumbly at the Kishu Inu that stood there, enveloped in his cloak and wearing half of a Kitsune mask. Akuma doesn't know it, but tears are pulled to the corners of his eyes as he steps forth, peering up at Tadashi's face carefully, eyes wide. "I thought you . . . I thought . . ." A shuddering sigh leaves him as he simply tries to lay his head on his son's chest. Of course, despite being a Baskerville ( and Akuma knowing in the back of his mind that his son could come back ) he had still been wrecked by his loss. Some of those who were sent into the Abyss did not always come back. Was he just lucky then? But now, if Tadashi or him or Riku ever died again - they wouldn't be so lucky, even after 100 cycles. He takes a moment from his silent crying and leans back onto his haunches, tail coiling tightly around himself as he looks up with watery golden eyes. "You're . . . staying?"

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