( ah, if only he knew — he would be that much more delighted in his find, that much more jealous and possessive of making sure that he came back with him to achamoth and that it was makoto who was the one that forced the Kenoma down his throat and into his stomach, to seep throughout his body and fill in the cracks that trauma and loss had left upon his mortal soul.

because that is, after all, what the Kenoma would promise him. destruction for everything that existed in his wake, and for everything else besides. for some, they needed the promise of a better tomorrow to feel secure in seeking to bring the curtain crashing down on this damnable farce, but for makoto and perhaps for leaks... they were simpler creatures, weren't they? sometimes you just wanted to drown everything that was in darkness, just to feel master of something even if that "something" was the demise of everything, and then sink down into its depths once and for all.

makoto nods, lips pursed; he seems understanding. )

I see. My apologies for the disappointment, then.

( he releases leaks' hair, though only so he can move his hand to the side of his face, fingertips lightly tracing along the curving line of his jaw. )

What if I could promise you that? The end to yourself. An end to everything that is.