Word Count: 1,006
Characters / Pairings: Jin, Michiru ( Shingen, Himeka )
Summary: Keep breathing, keep dreaming – fill the blank walls with color.
Notes: I have no excuse for this. I was originally planning on having the two main characters' roles switched but this worked better in my head. Posting this here first because LiveJournal isn't being nice to me right now.
Also? I dare you, yes you, the generic Kamichama Karin fan, to read something that absolutely doesn't even mention Karin or Kazune. Because I bet you won't, 'cause I'm not shipping your OTP. Take that, fandom.
Inhale deeply now. If he breathes in enough air, it'll push all the color out of his body and onto the walls, oh the walls. The room will have dark hair and yellow eyes and moon-bright skin. It will be lovely. Colors are scarce here, an endangered species. So keep breathing, and just breathe. There's nothing else to do.
"Miss Himeka," he says. He takes in another lungful of air. "Have you met Miss Himeka?"
Nobody's met Miss Himeka but him. "She is a very polite girl," he says solemnly, smiling like a celebrity. "I know you would like her a lot. Shingen, stop that. I'm breathing, can't you tell?" He's annoyed now, because Shingen is squeezing color out of himself now, and he wanted to be the one to fill the room. Shingen always comes out of nowhere and scares him, but he won't show, because he is above fear here. He hates and loves the boy, for being so colorful, such a travesty and so magnificent.
"It's annoying," he scoffs. "And Miss Himeka agrees too. You see? She's too polite to say anything, but I can tell. I can always tell. Stop it. Stop it right now. I don't want to hit you but if you don't stop then I will. Because I'm breathing for you all so you don't have to."
Michiru has his same tired smile on. It leaks radiance when he's not careful to stop it. "She is a very lovely person to be around," he says precariously. "Keep breathing; don't stop on account of me."
He gives Michiru an odd look. "Where did Shingen go?" he demands. He takes a large breath and exhales. He inhales again, pushes a little more air in and color out, and looks at Michiru. "What is your name? Tell me your name."
The walls are white, splattered belligerent blue and violent violet with a handsome hat of auburn. "Tell me your name," he commands. He is the ruler of this place, can't you tell? He is the ruler of all places he knows. "What is your name? Do you know my name? Everybody here knows me." He smiles again. "Maybe you're new, though. My name is," he breathes in, "Kuga Jin. Everybody here knows me."
It's hard to breathe when he takes up all the air. "Pleased… to make your acquaintance," says Michiru, his fast-fading smile flickering to stay alive. "I've brought something for you."
He sees white fruits and a clear goblet on a silver and gold platter. "You must be new," he accuses. "White white white white, it's too much. I'm bleeding color for you, didn't you know? You – who are you to come in here and put color in here? Only I can make this place colorful and beautiful. Yes, only I can, not you. I won't stand for it! I breathe for you, didn't you know?"
"Please, just… take them, please," mumbles Michiru, shoving the little plate with pills on them. "I'll come back tomorrow with better ones, I promise, if you just take them."
He takes in a deep breath. "Very well," he announces, a king to his adoring crowd. "But only because you're new."
The white fruits taste grainy. The clear goblet is a new beginning. The walls are beginning to fade back to white again. He breathes harder, tries to push the color out faster – he needs it, he needs the color! The new servant is gone – what was his name again? – and Shingen has returned. "Shingen," he says, "next time that… new one comes around again, please tell him not to forget to serve delicacies to Miss Himeka. She is a very polite and lovely person and should not be overlooked."
"I'm –" Shingen sounds surprised, and he has never really heard Shingen talk before. It's a lovely voice, really, but he stops.
And Shingen is bleeding color again, so he'll keep the boy around a little longer. "Shingen," he repeats, "find the new one. He was… very colorful… almost as colorful as you. Maybe I should replace him with you." He's… not moving, not listening. "Shingen," he says once more, anger lacing his voice. "Go find him."
He breathes especially hard as he hits the boy, his fist connecting soundly with Shingen's arm and spewing color from the invisible wounds. But Shingen's gone again and the… new one's back again. "You're back," he says, happy that Shingen finally left and brought him.
"You called?" Michiru asks numbly, holding his arm awkwardly.
"… Where did Shingen go?" he asks. "What is your name? Do you know my name?"
"Of course I know your name, Jin. Everybody here knows your name, don't they?" Michiru says. "My name is… Nishikiori Michiru."
"It's good to meet you, Michiru," he breathes. And inhale now, just a small one. "You can stay for a little longer if Shingen isn't coming back. Very… colorful, you don't feel so blank."
"I'm sorry. I have to go. I'll come back tomorrow," Michiru tells him.
He inhales. "Yes, very well, come back quickly," he orders. "And tell Shingen to return if you see him. It was a pleasure… Nishikiori Michiru."
As Michiru turns to leave, he doesn't cry. The tears stopped coming a long time ago, now they're just little cerulean drops on the floor that he can't see. He'll come tomorrow again and Jin will be pleased to meet him again and don't you know my name? Everybody here knows my name.
"Pardon the interruptions, Miss Himeka," he says grandly. "Let's keep talking; weren't we having a great conversation just before?"
Inhale deeply now. If he breathes in enough air, then he'll float away and find a place away from these walls that has color, rare and gorgeous color. This place will have a heart of silver and forests with trees of orange and golden leaves and streams that are azure and amethyst at the same time, never mixing, always separate, always together. So keep breathing, and just breathe. There's nothing else to do.