--and he fell back to the ground with an unbalanced, heavy thump.
For several seconds, he lay still, trying to take stock of himself. If he moved, he might feel the grind of gears. If he spoke, he might hear the buzz of a speaker. If he looked, he might see the gleam of metal. All possibilities, all things he'd decided to accept over the months, and things that he could continue to live with if things had gone wrong.
As he reminded himself of all this, careful and guarded and accepting, Hajime realized he was breathing.
He blinked once, twice--real, actual eyelids over genuine, physical eyes--and lifted a hand before his face. He stared at the bony, pink fingers, and heard his heartbeat hammering through his ears. Along his backside, a mild throb picked up where he'd hit the ground.
The sensations all began to slam into him at once, the warm summer air and cool polished floor, the scent of wood and sweat drifting through the room, the salt dribbling into his mouth from his eyes. He'd thought he'd lost them, all of them. All these little, small things, he'd gone and told himself he could go and live without them.
Hajime looked up to Shantae, blurred as much through tears as his own poor eyesight. "You... Shantae, you..."
The words vibrated in his throat, over his tongue, but he choked the hiccup behind his teeth as he staggered upright and seized her in a tight, warm, human hug.
no subject
For several seconds, he lay still, trying to take stock of himself. If he moved, he might feel the grind of gears. If he spoke, he might hear the buzz of a speaker. If he looked, he might see the gleam of metal. All possibilities, all things he'd decided to accept over the months, and things that he could continue to live with if things had gone wrong.
As he reminded himself of all this, careful and guarded and accepting, Hajime realized he was breathing.
He blinked once, twice--real, actual eyelids over genuine, physical eyes--and lifted a hand before his face. He stared at the bony, pink fingers, and heard his heartbeat hammering through his ears. Along his backside, a mild throb picked up where he'd hit the ground.
The sensations all began to slam into him at once, the warm summer air and cool polished floor, the scent of wood and sweat drifting through the room, the salt dribbling into his mouth from his eyes. He'd thought he'd lost them, all of them. All these little, small things, he'd gone and told himself he could go and live without them.
Hajime looked up to Shantae, blurred as much through tears as his own poor eyesight. "You... Shantae, you..."
The words vibrated in his throat, over his tongue, but he choked the hiccup behind his teeth as he staggered upright and seized her in a tight, warm, human hug.