[Given no other choice, and with drastically ebbing strength, Hikaru yields to the firm insistence of Kamo's hand. He stays flat on his back, and instead he tries to pay attention to what Kamo is doing and what he's saying as he does it. According to castle gossip, the practitioners of this ancient magical art are discovered at an early age, their gift manifesting in any number of ways. Hikaru has never asked Kamo what his early life was like for him, what training at the shrine must have been like, mostly because he doubts Kamo would tell him... but he has wondered about it a lot. Sai told him that Kamo is the youngest onmyouji in a whole generation to reach this level of skill. Maybe several generations. Maybe ever. And now this same once-in-a-millennium onmyouji is tending to a bodyguard's wounds like it's what he was born to do.]
What are... meridian lines...? [Kamo might have mentioned them before, but Hikaru wasn't paying any attention; he isn't exactly the most educated person, either. Letters, numbers, religious precepts, whatever--it's all kind of impossible for him to grasp. His eyes glimmer brighter, a bit feverish, the onset of an infection, as he watches Kamo's hands move over him and then above him. He's expecting whatever Kamo is doing to hurt, like someone shoving their hands inside him, like a combat surgeon with nothing there to lessen the pain... but it's literally painless. It's the opposite of pain. The pain is being taken away by those hands, and by those... fireflies, it looks like...
Hikaru's eyes widen as the fireflies come into view, twinkling like a spray of stars in the sky. They're very beautiful. Kamo, himself, is also... He's also... Hikaru whispers the bare truth of it, an oh followed by so amazing, feeling himself relax from his head all the way down to his toes. His eyes fall shut involuntarily, his breaths a little deeper with every new breath he takes in. His heartbeat rebounds by degrees, too, reasserting itself, no longer being drained dry by patches of internal bleeding.
Right now, Kamo is literally saving his life, and it's the nicest thing anyone has ever done for him. Hikaru isn't afraid to die--of course not--demon-hunting investigators don't last long in the field--but that doesn't mean he wants to go just yet. He wants to look at Kamo's face for a while longer, so he's wincing his eyes open again.]
Mmm, I think it's... feels like it's working, to me...
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What are... meridian lines...? [Kamo might have mentioned them before, but Hikaru wasn't paying any attention; he isn't exactly the most educated person, either. Letters, numbers, religious precepts, whatever--it's all kind of impossible for him to grasp. His eyes glimmer brighter, a bit feverish, the onset of an infection, as he watches Kamo's hands move over him and then above him. He's expecting whatever Kamo is doing to hurt, like someone shoving their hands inside him, like a combat surgeon with nothing there to lessen the pain... but it's literally painless. It's the opposite of pain. The pain is being taken away by those hands, and by those... fireflies, it looks like...
Hikaru's eyes widen as the fireflies come into view, twinkling like a spray of stars in the sky. They're very beautiful. Kamo, himself, is also... He's also... Hikaru whispers the bare truth of it, an oh followed by so amazing, feeling himself relax from his head all the way down to his toes. His eyes fall shut involuntarily, his breaths a little deeper with every new breath he takes in. His heartbeat rebounds by degrees, too, reasserting itself, no longer being drained dry by patches of internal bleeding.
Right now, Kamo is literally saving his life, and it's the nicest thing anyone has ever done for him. Hikaru isn't afraid to die--of course not--demon-hunting investigators don't last long in the field--but that doesn't mean he wants to go just yet. He wants to look at Kamo's face for a while longer, so he's wincing his eyes open again.]
Mmm, I think it's... feels like it's working, to me...