𝗟𝗜𝗧𝗧𝗟𝗘 𝗗𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗔𝗚𝗘

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐘-𝐅𝐈𝐕𝐄 - WITH YOU

"You're... sorry?" He wore a smile of peculiar value, he didn't really understand my low and shaky voice — at least not until he wandered into the sorrow of my eyes. "Yeah, I am. For everything." I added, croaking out the last words with a harsh swallow. "I don't understand." His smile was starting to fade, and I felt bad that I was the cause of its dissipating shine — he often wore it with his infallible kindness.

"I don't understand how you can't see how much of a hindrance I am." I shrugged leaning back. He turned to watch me sit back, my spine touching the concrete stairs as I placed weight on my palms. "You're not..." Ignoring his quiet disagreement, I continued moving my gaze to the side. "I've honestly been the worst for... becoming a shaman — the only reason I did it was because I'm selfish. But I'm even more of a coward." The truth never felt right, it always had to hurt and disappoint. The words I spoke felt like venom on my tongue, the sour taste left behind was from the insults I spewed at myself.

"I was only doing this to get out of death — I was entirely inconsiderate of all those who'd die without my help." I elaborated, pausing to barely look at him, he didn't part his lips to interrupt, only listening intently to what I had been wanting to voice. "But every time I step out on a mission I'm instantly cowering — I'm terrified — it's pathetic."

"I haven't learned much from training — if you couldn't tell." I concluded with a bothered tone, my hand scratching the nape of my neck as I carelessly insulted myself. The mistakes I've made were deserving of my condescending attitude. "So, yeah, I'm incredibly useless."

"I don't think that's the case... it's a new experience, it's really hard to know what exactly you should feel..." I didn't look to him, I kept my eyes down as he watched the distant scenery, his mind elsewhere, only grounded by his own voice. "In cases like the special-grade you weren't exactly trained to handle a spirit that strong — I'm surprised you survive with how malignant those can be." He quietly added, attempting to lessen my shame and guilt. "Not many do... that experience was enough to prove it. That many casualties with spirits aren't uncommon."

"I thought I was the only one hurt." He was silent, lips parting to let a lonely breath pass, the silence was unbearable. "I wasn't the only one involved?" I ran my hand through my hair and huffed slouching with my hands dragging across my face. "A few others were, yeah... Ieiri helped them though, they're all fine." He added quickly and I groaned a mumble, my hands covering my deplorable expression tainted with sad penitence.

"It's nothing to be ashamed of... it's fine to make mistakes, you just have to accept them and try not to do the same thing again." He reasoned in a serene whisper.

"I know that. I just can't figure out what I am doing wrong." I groaned shielding my face from his kindness and the bright afternoon sun.

"You perform how you practice, so think back to training." He started to explain in a light tone, with a genuinely helpful attitude. Though, he had lightened the atmosphere with his gentle personality I was still dead serious on the fact that my mistake wasn't able to revised so easily.

"I don't think I'm cut out for this." I pushed my hands up and through my hair looking directly at the ground with a burning gaze. "I don't know if that's the case..."

"You know well I wasn't supposed to live this life, but then that day — the day after I met you." I brought my hands done and finally gave him my stare, my eyes burning with sharp water and my nose itching with pre-tears. "It's only gotten worse from there hasn't it? I've lost more than I've gained and I can't make up for it because I don't know how." I rubbed at my eyes with the base of my hand the pressure turned them red and I sniffled a few inhales. "It's pathetic — I'm pathetic. I don't think I can be a shaman."

"Not everyone's gonna do perfect on their first try... it took a little for me to get used to the fighting and negativity... it's not easy.
Especially when it's your only option..." He trailed off looking to his hands that he intertwined, settling them on his lap. "I've been in a place like yours, (Y/N), you don't have to be scared or contrite... people have your back — even if they don't show it, like Maki." A small smile broke my repentant sadness at the mention of our classmate. I could hardly imagine her fierce personality cracking into something like concern.

"It's hard, yeah, being a shaman takes a lot of commitment and practice — but that's why there's people to help you, they want to teach you." He spoke with a small voice, though his tone was brave and firm, unwavering even at the slightest doubt I showed — he wanted me to be just as sure as he was.

"They want to be by your side." My lips fell apart and I let out a solemn breath. "What if I don't want to go on?" I asked quietly, a shake in my hasty mutter.

"You may not have been born a prodigy or with high expectations, but that won't stop anyone from believing in you... it's tough to live a life where death is everywhere, everyone knows that but handles it differently." His brows pushed together forming small creases at his brows and a slight adjust in his tone made him seem stronger and taller. "I know you want to quit and run, that's fair, but what would you get out of that?"

Running only gives the problem a chance to catch up. What would I get out of leaving? I want to. I want to get out the hurt and endless evil — but where would that leave me? He's brave, very brave for staying so long and committing to this organization. Why can't I adjust to the change like him?

His hand moved to my shoulder, a comfort in the tepid warmth tracing his hand and seeping through my clothes to even the bones in my body. I knew my faults, he knew them too, but he didn't chastise me for them, he accepted my mistakes and wanted to help me move past them. I leaned slightly into his hand and kept my head hung low, a soft mumbled words of kindness fell from his lips, something soft and honeyed to retract discomfort in a calm tone. The soothing affirmation hadn't stop the wet drops of realization and contradiction from stalking down the skin on my face.

And I was not alone.