semi-closed log

[dontmindmepleasecontinue]

WHAT: mental breakdowns and existential crises
WHO: Koizumi and those who notice his sudden absence
WHEN: between 3/7 and 3/14
WHERE: Koizumi's apartment
WARNINGS: triggering and content warnings for: depression, thoughts of suicide, mental breakdown. will edit with any further warnings.

Haruhi has been the center of Koizumi's life for a long time. She's been at the very core of his world and his identity for more than five years - for an 18 year old, that might as well be forever. She is everything to him. His friend, his first and greatest love, his literal God. She grants him the powers that make him an esper, make him special. Even if nobody knows, he has saved the world many times - and that means more to him than he can ever explain. She is a part of who he is.

Well. Was. That's gone now.

...She's gone.

Koizumi lays on his bed, trying to come to grips with it. He fluctuates between sorrow and madness and and denial and despair. Days pass, and the shadows climb the wall, only to vanish once again. He doesn't eat, and can't tell the difference between sleeping and waking anymore. It doesn't seem important, though sometimes he forgets why.

He gets messages, but he can't summon the will to respond to them.

...Anything would be better than this. He could suffer through anything, the cruelest torture, if only Kyon and Haruhi were here.

They're not. His mind wanders to his gun - at least that ending would be quick. But no, his gun was taken away when he lost his job. He's absolutely powerless - all he can do is lay there in his own personal hell, and hope for the darkness to consume him.

Comments

[coimiceoir]

Aisling has been deeply connected with the forest recently, as the spring rash of new babies are born but among all the triumph and pleasure and family came a singular douse of icy despair from the heart of the city. Instantly ceasing what she was doing, she appears quickly at the top of the nearest tree, gazing out toward the buildings as if she could see through them. She doesn't have as strong a connection to Koizumi, but such a piercing sense of grief is extremely clear. She hesitates, feeling his shock abate. Perhaps he needs some time to come to grips with whatever that situation is.

When he continues to linger as a dark spot on the edges of her awareness, however, it preys on her. Distracts her. Worries her. Two days pass before she gives in to her inquisitive nature and she sets out to visit.

The moon is beginning to rise and a cool breeze presses against her shoulders as she slips up the side of the building and locates the window of the apartment she's looking for. Perching lightly on the sill, she taps on the window pane.

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His emotions during those two days are primarily sorrow and despair and deep depression, but there is a good amount of shock and guilt and confusion mixed in as well. Occasionally the emotions will die down completely, but they're never gone for more than a couple hours at a time - even during the night, when Koizumi would normally be sleeping.

It is dark inside when she comes to the window, despite the hour. Koizumi is visible, curled up in his bed below the window - but he's facing away from her, and he doesn't respond to the knock. In truth, he isn't moving at all - and though there had been an enormous spike of guilt and despair ah hour or so earlier, when she decided to come, at present he isn't sending out any emotions at all.

[coimiceoir]

Crom's scales hiss under the breeze, and she staves off alarm for a cautious approach. When scratching at the window still yields no results, the sprite licks her thumb and rubs it along the glass to make that fascinating sound that seems to upset so many people. Still no response.

It is a small thing to drop from the window ledge and land lightly, darting around to the door and up the stairs to find the entry that doesn't push against her. She is welcome here, and has no trouble opening the door, slipping inside and pushing it to behind her. The dark doesn't bother her, night-eyed as she is, so finding the proper bedroom takes no more than a few seconds.

She leaves the door wide, and pauses, wrinkling her nose. It may not smell to a human, but to her the scents of illness and despair are more than strong enough. Hopping up onto the window ledge, Aisling flicks open the funny catch and pushes it open, allowing the cleaner air to flow in and dispel the old. Now for the source of her concern.

Slowly, carefully, she lets herself down on his bed and crawls up to sit cross-legged on the pillow over his head. Leaning forward lets her hair curtain them off from the rest of the world. Her fingertips brush gently from the center of his brow to his temple, and she says softly, "Aiden. Belanus. Come back to me."

[dontmindmepleasecontinue]

He closes his eyes and sighs softly.

"...I'm right here, Aisling." His voice is quiet and monotonous, and he doesn't turn or even look at her when he speaks.

[coimiceoir]

"Are you?" she asks, just as quietly. "You're wandering in places unfit for one such as you, I think. Will you tell me why? I will gladly pay whatever price your thoughts are worth."

[dontmindmepleasecontinue]

"I..." He swallows hard, having trouble getting words out. Guilt and despair start to return full force as his apathy drains away. He's not exactly crying, but there are tears on his cheeks.

He curls his head so he's facing away from her, muffling his voice and the way it breaks when he speaks. "Kyon and Haruhi left the island."

[coimiceoir]

A small frown furrows her forehead as she considers this. She doesn't know those names, but... Or maybe... Maybe she does. Whispers of foreign memories of a future she wants to prevent. An older Koizumi crying out in shock and denial as a young man died, a young woman holding the body on the battlefield, a brilliant light and the grief of a broken man. One who had lost his purpose, his gifts... His... Lady.

Comprehension yawns, dark and empty before her. That was what had felt off about him, beneath the surface pain. His magic, the gifts he'd been given, the sense of power in him, is gone. He has lost his Lady, and with her, everything that he had lived for.

She closes her eyes briefly, sharing in his incomprehensible loss and despair. "An bandia grian, deonaigh an trócaire tá dóchasm agam do seirbhíseach..." she prays in a whisper, then speaks but a little louder, letting the emotion leech the color from her voice. "Oh my friend." Her tiny hand seeks out his shoulder, offering her support and comfort.