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Numbness is an enigma, just like he; they were two of a kind. It robbed him of any semblance of his humanity or that which may have belonged to him in a past life. What he felt was a cold, firm hand on his shoulder, watching over him as it resumed eating away at his already decaying soul. It's a presence that couldn't simply be forgotten or ignored; every moment was a constant reminder of what you were lacking, and everything hurt. It hurts so much. It's a looming shadow where all feelings and all humanity are lost.
Bones weighed a ton, and every breath burned his lungs from the inside out. Why was he even still here? What was he doing all of this for? He could hardly remember that himself. It was a story, or rather an experience from long ago, of another life, one of many he's led.
A life where he had once decided to give living a shot. One last chance at redemption, and yet even after that chance was used up, he was still standing. He wasn't fully there (he never was), but this wasn't what he had planned, although the world loved reminding him of his place.
Chuuya once said that humanity is worth dying for, but what is there to live for if you even lack that?
He couldn't comprehend the simplest of human ideas. It all simply swam in a sea of information in his head; never quite understood.
"Humans live to save themselves." That was evident. Humans live because what comes next is out of their control, and so they remain with what they have control over: life.
He knew this. And he understood well that he wasn't human, and yet something strange remained there.
He never understood the feeling of yearning (like with many other emotions) until he saw true, raw humanity, and since then the feeling has never left. He knew better, of course; the hand gripping his shoulder tightened in a reminder of what he really was, and yet he couldn't help but dream.
Despite the grey skies, the sun shone brightly, providing an opportunity for something to grow and flourish. It was warm and welcoming, enough to make him almost forget the cold hand over his shoulder, which he now realises was no longer so firm.
But with warmth comes the fear of getting burned—the anxiety he had fallen for—and so he fled and relished the oh-so-familiar darkness. It was familiar; it was all he knew.
He fled and fled and fled and fled until he eventually got lost in a forest of darkness. He usually liked the darkness, but he had begun missing the light of the sun.
The land of the dark was where secrets remained hidden, where his cards remained close to his chest, and as enticing as the light was, it didn't hold any guarantees. He couldn’t trust the light, even if it beamed from the one he trusted most.
But now he could feel phantom fingers all over him—a once comforting yet now terrifying presence. He could feel everything wrong with him highlighted for him, and it made him sick, so sick. Everything is scary in the dark; it made sense, but that didn't ease the feeling.
Feeling. He never knew he could experience such a thing. It was so human, and yet that wasn't what he was; he was something less than that, but with a hand extended before him and a warm smile before him, he realised that if he took it, he could perhaps understand.
And he did understand. Together they were human , together they were whole .
And yet, in spite of this, they remained two fragments of one being, separated only by mortal boundaries, but they both felt the connection. They were both soldiers of one cause, and once one was dead, the other was to follow; it's just how it worked, and they were both fully aware. They were connected beyond simply that of a relationship; they were the completion of each other's souls, two jigsaw pieces that could only fit together.
They may be separated physically, but in heart and soul they will always remain one; Arahabaki, corruption, and no longer human, were thieves of humanity, but they both supplied each other plenty.
Despite the fact that they were neither alone nor human, they managed to solve the puzzle and gain access to humanity. Even if just for a moment.