[The perfume is a surprise despite prior discussion, yet paling in comparison to the third and final gift unveiled to his eyes. Strange and rarely felt embarrassment jolts through him. Feminine, delicate clothing not meant for any man—black frills and sheer lace ensuring little is left to imagination. Slack hands drop the silky fabric back into its slim box as color heats his face. Fortunately, no one is there to witness it on him, and he soon calms the reaction down.
Is it... intentional? Surely Guanshan cannot expect him to make use of this gift. The other two present a whole separate degree of practicality. He can, at least, understand them.]
doin things ur not supposed to do is hot someone told u u werent allowed n that it aint " right " who to fuck, what to wear, how to behave, who gets to be violent & how but why sometimes bein " wrong " just feels good or at least sayin fuck u to all that does
[It sounds enough like Guanshan that, again, he's thrown for an immediate reply. Itachi watches the dark-paned windows of the apartment in front of him and wonders how to approach this.]
Then it is sincere. You would want to see me wearing this.
[Being wrong feels good—he doesn't know if he can comprehend that. He needs time with the idea.]
The other two gifts are more logical to me. They're relevant to conversations and experiences I've shared with Guanshan. So you must be some part of him, or at least have access to his thoughts and memories, if you are not him. Does he know you're speaking to me? And others, too, I suspect.
[ true enough, hours later he's gone through his phone and witnessed the havoc his shadow has wrought. he doesn't know what it says about the quality of his relationships that his inner circle has... well. behaved themselves, even when "he" was incapable of it. ]
[ in some ways, it would've been easier if they hadn't — but he finds himself grateful all the same. unsure of what to say but wanting to follow up all the same, he sends a (shy) little: ]
I assumed as much. Thank you for them. [Because he'd figured out that while that other version of Guanshan might have orchestrated the hunt across Sumarlok, he couldn't have found all of those items in a day. The perfume and weapon were too intimate and premeditated.] ... Excluding that last one.
[ success!! between a knife and a perfume, the one he was more anxious about was certainly the latter. now he just wants to... smell it on him... is he a creep ]
i figured u wouldnt want somethin too strong everything about u is kinda.....
[ wait he needs to think is the right word ]
quiet
oh yea its the last character in my name shan
[ read the same in both of their languages: mountain. ]
[Almost stiffly formal in comparison, the conversation drops off there. He sends no other message for nearly two full days—and when word does finally come, it is strategically timed on an evening Guanshan is alone at home, off work. Like a phantom materializing from thin air, he appears on his balcony identical to that past encounter, except he is far more composed, and the sky is dry of rain.
There was no right time to discuss this. Yet those gifts had reminded him that, unless he did this soon, Guanshan would only be continually disillusioned about him.]
I'm here.
[His stony, set expression reveals nothing—yet he will be still betrayed by the faintest trace of sweet, smoky perfume.]
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Is it... intentional? Surely Guanshan cannot expect him to make use of this gift. The other two present a whole separate degree of practicality. He can, at least, understand them.]
This is clearly a joke.
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send pics !!
ur gonna look so delicate n beautiful, im gonna peel the lace off u w/ my teeth
[ filthy imagination for something that's just a "joke". ]
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[Excuse me.]
A man wouldn't wear something like this.
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thats the point
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someone told u u werent allowed n that it aint " right "
who to fuck, what to wear, how to behave, who gets to be violent & how
but why
sometimes bein " wrong " just feels good
or at least sayin fuck u to all that does
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Then it is sincere. You would want to see me wearing this.
[Being wrong feels good—he doesn't know if he can comprehend that. He needs time with the idea.]
The other two gifts are more logical to me. They're relevant to conversations and experiences I've shared with Guanshan. So you must be some part of him, or at least have access to his thoughts and memories, if you are not him. Does he know you're speaking to me? And others, too, I suspect.
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nah hes busy
im sure hell be pissed later but thats his problem, he shouldna left me locked up for so long
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Perhaps it's best if we end this here.
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well that i didnt expect
[ weirdly... touched... ]
u dont even wanna ask me any invasive questions ?
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well awright then
u probly gonna hear from him later tonight
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Don't cause him too much trouble.
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[ in some ways, it would've been easier if they hadn't — but he finds himself grateful all the same. unsure of what to say but wanting to follow up all the same, he sends a (shy) little: ]
uhh
hi
oops 2/2
[ you know. that one. ]
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I assumed as much. Thank you for them. [Because he'd figured out that while that other version of Guanshan might have orchestrated the hunt across Sumarlok, he couldn't have found all of those items in a day. The perfume and weapon were too intimate and premeditated.] ... Excluding that last one.
Are you all right?
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yea im fine
got a headache n im not finishin my shift but
coulda been worse
[ ... ]
did u like how it smelled
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You surprised me. I expected something... stronger. Is the signature on the card your name?
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i figured u wouldnt want somethin too strong
everything about u is kinda.....
[ wait he needs to think is the right word ]
quiet
oh yea its the last character in my name
shan
[ read the same in both of their languages: mountain. ]
1/2
[Mountain... immovably stubborn and dumb as rocks. Meant fondly.]
I'm not certain I will have the occasion to wear it often, but perhaps someday soon.
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Guanshan. There is something I need to discuss with you in person the next time you are available.
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yea ok
late morning or early night works best
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[Almost stiffly formal in comparison, the conversation drops off there. He sends no other message for nearly two full days—and when word does finally come, it is strategically timed on an evening Guanshan is alone at home, off work. Like a phantom materializing from thin air, he appears on his balcony identical to that past encounter, except he is far more composed, and the sky is dry of rain.
There was no right time to discuss this. Yet those gifts had reminded him that, unless he did this soon, Guanshan would only be continually disillusioned about him.]
I'm here.
[His stony, set expression reveals nothing—yet he will be still betrayed by the faintest trace of sweet, smoky perfume.]
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