Tsukasa had been laying on his bed, exhausted after finally finished with sparring with Hikaru, in good time; two hours. Wonderful! He was doing well.
The softness of the bed, rolling his face against the scents of a clean sheet. He often forgot what it felt like to truly appreciate a bed. When you run around for Hikaru to be good and friendly in appeasing your own nature, it slipped past: the reminder of blissful comfort.
The silence hadn't been his greatest friend recently. Disturbed by the requests of the thoughts buried deep within his own. But right now, everything was calm. Hikaru was somewhere he didn't think over too much, and he was alone, calm.
It was an odd feeling- each time he'd been alone something was different in the air. It settled into that choking atmosphere but it was always different.
This time he felt.. an odd wind. Nothing brushed his hair over his ear, nor cold on his warm, soft cheeks. But something that ran through him like a ghost.
Last time he'd… well. He'd worked himself up on the thoughts of Hikaru. Now though, he felt ashamed.
Felt dirtied. That he'd even have such needs or thoughts. It was terrible.
Hikaru, certainly wasn't for him. That kind of relationship.. the mere thought had been aching in his mind for a good number of hours. They behaved in such an animalistic way sometimes. It wasn't human and neither was Hikaru. But Tsukasa was.
..the thought caused his content smile to fade as he rolled on his back to stare at the ceiling caught in the whirl of an absent, dark air.
What was he doing.
Monsters, spirits, animals. They deserved their own kind. No, they could only have their own kind. The animal and the host. Binary opposites.
This wasn't working.
This was wrong.
He nodded with a sigh and decided perhaps… this was the time to try and move away from such pitiful, terrible, naive feelings. The scars, the 'ownership'...
He was no toy, how dare he. He was Tsukasa Futaba. Strong. Independent. And reliant of no one anymore. No more.
What were feelings for anyway...?