agoodyarn | For sunshinehan: a little light in the darkness

What the hell was this? Now they were teasing him with uncooked eggs in his meal? Joke was on them, he'd crack it and drain it dry. Food was food, and egg was a big one.

Of course, Majima didn't get far beyond his thoughts of this as when he peered at the egg it moved. He stilled completely and stared intently at the egg. Maybe his mind was playing tricks on him again. It happened down here. A lot more than he cared to admit.

There, it moved again. And a crack appeared along the outside. He hadn't managed to touch the bowl yet much less hit the egg inside. His movements were so slow these days even when he was given small amounts of freedom. They were barely keeping him alive, but he was too stubborn to die. The movement caught his attention again and he made a soft noise of consideration.

What was he about to watch hatch from this odd egg? Why was it placed in his bowl? Was this just some new form of torture? It was crazy if so. He didn't know what to think honestly so he kept staring at the thing in dumbfoundment, stupidly curious and vaguely, deep down, worried about his own mental healthiness.

The egg wobbles back and forth before there's a single jump and a section of the shell crumples into a dark hole. Three little claws slip through from the darkness within and then three more, a set on either side, before the shell is pushed apart and the creature that did it is sitting in his soup bowl, peering up at Majima.

Even in the dim lighting here, the silver shimmer of the scales is clear enough. The claws all appear to be a rich gold, just as bright, and matted down by the porridge and whatever else was in the egg is a dark ruff. The underside almost looks black as well, except that a flicker of light shows it to be crimson as the little creature pads over to the edge of the bowl to look straight at Majima.

It's the size of his hand, no bigger, but it looks over at him with pride and decisive intent. Even if the little thing can't talk yet, the firmness in it's eyes says everything.

Hello, person-who-is-mine.

There goes the porridge, ruined. It was an absurd thought but one he had nonetheless. It was an easier one to have than one on what else was happening. This couldn't be real. He really had cracked--the egg represented his mind, clearly broken. What the rest meant he didn't know but he felt scrambled like the contents of the bowl and egg contents swirling around in the wake of the ...creature's... movements.

He didn't know what to do. He kept staring at it as it looked up at him. It seemed so intent, so determined, so...

"Cute," he cooed at the silver dragon. He laughed and it came out a wild cackle. If he was insane, why bother hiding it?

He reached out a hand and attempted to touch what he could swear was just a hallucination.

There’s a little huff at the comment, a tiny splash in the bowl as he gets his bottom half entirely out of the shell. And when the hand reaches out, there’s stillness. Confusion.

Then the creature leans into the touch, wary but pleased. It is very real. Slick and smooth, damp with broth, but real.

He touches the creature, and still can't believe it's actually real. This was one heck of a hallucination though to include touch sensory input. He felt its smooth scales under his hand, the wetness of the porridge making it a little slimy but it all felt very real. Majima ran a finger down its back experimentally, catching all the little spines on the way down.

Then, cautiously, he held out both of his hands together like a little platform. And then urged it to climb into his hands and get out of that ruined porridge.

There’s a moment where the little creature considers the platform, nods, then slips out of the bowl but not into Majima’s hands. Instead, he takes a moment to shake off briskly until the dark ruff is a little more in order and he squirms around to clean himself up in a shuffle and shimmy of slithery limbs.

Only once the little creature has made himself presentable, in whatever way it seems to feel is necessary, that he leaps into those hands without an ounce of fear.

Then he’s nuzzling to the mound of Majima’s thumb. See? Better. Not as clean as he could be but that’s fine.

Majima had been just about to lower his hands in disappointment when the tiny dragon finished its ruffling about and hopped into his palms. He immediately felt both an intense delight and an unexpected awe of the small but magnificent creature.

How had he been blessed to witness such a thing? And how long would its treasure last?

He didn't have high hopes that it would last long. Whether this was a hallucination or not, Majima figured the little creature wouldn't be stuck down here with him for very long. If it was real, and discovered, it would undoubtedly be taken away. And likely sold on the black market or some other heinous crime against its very being.

He tried not to think about it as he very carefully rubbed his thumb along its head ridges. He chuckled and grabbed the nearest piece of cloth--the bottom of his ragged shirt--and began to gently wipe the last of the goop away from its beautiful scales.

"There, that make ya feel better? Was gonna help ya with that anyway, silly."

Edited 2021-09-08 20:33 (UTC)

There’s a a soft huff (yes) to the first question and then a fussy noise in return to calling him silly, but the little one doesn’t seem any less inclined to stay with Majima, to provide him some affection and attention. The little thumb pets are not just accepted but the tiny body leans into them and Majima will feel the tiny tail wrap possessively around his pinky.

He hopes he’s being clear here.

Before Majima knew it, he was smiling genuinely. It had been a long time since he'd smiled in any capacity and meant it. This little creature was truly bringing a ray of light into a dark, dark place indeed.

The tail wrap wasn't missed either. The little dragon was precious, and Majima wanted nothing more than to protect it with his life. Unfortunately he was so broken he doubted he could do much more than delay the inevitable were anything to come to it.

He continued to pet the dragon lightly, however, eventually breaking off with his thumb as he shifted the small creature into one palm and used the tips of his fingers from the freed hand to scritch gently on top of its head. Were those tiny horns growing out there? How cute.

Of course, tiny horns! He was a fierce dragon, a beast of legend. He was just… happy and sleepy so he’s content to rest in Majima’s palm since it’s warm and comfortable and this is his person and he had a long, difficult day of being properly born in some soup.

After a few moments, Majima will hear something very much like a purr but with a clicking, reptilian edge to it. The tail stays firm, though: not tight or tugging, just keeping his hold.

It’s as he’s lazing in Majima’s hand that he turns his head and takes in his surroundings properly at last. Like it just occurred to him, he makes a soft little chirp at Majima, tilting his head up to look at the man.

Where are they? This place seems pretty dark. And kind of stinky.

Shit, that was even more adorable. Majima couldn't get over that cute little clicking purr that came out of the tiny beast. It had another effect, too, of relaxing Majima in a way he hadn't felt since being locked away in this place.

His one meal of the day was forgotten as he leaned back against the wall to get more comfortable, careful not to disturb the dragon too much as he moved. Nothing else really seemed to matter anymore.

"Hmm?" Majima cracked his eye back open as if he had been about to fall asleep himself as he petted the tiny creature and listened to the comforting purr. "What? Don't like it here? Me either. I ain't got no choice though. But maybe... you could sneak out of here..."

Edited 2021-09-08 23:46 (UTC)

The immediate response is a huffy little snort. He's not going anywhere, mister! Not before he knows you're safe. What kind of dragon do you think he is, leaving his person places? He's not that kind of dragon at all. Once he has a person, he's sticking with them. Protecting them and loving them and being with them is his top priority.

There's a questioning little trill, and then he's lifting one of his claws up for Majima to see. Maybe he could help? If his person doesn't like it, they shouldn't stay here.

There was something inherently cute about a tiny creature getting all huffy and decisive. Majima wasn't sure why the little dragon seemed so intent on staying with him but he couldn't say he didn't like the idea. Though it did worry him.

Which showed in the crease of his brow as he watched the little dragon offer up his tiny little claws as if it wanted to protect him. He could have been projecting the sentiment but his concern for the creature's well-being was genuine. He touched the little dragon's claws with one of his fingertips as if to illustrate how small it was compared to him, to any human.

"What'cha gonna do with those, huh? Catch a few rats to eat?" He snorted. "Hell, even the rats are bigger'n you. Probably should stick to insects till ya get bigger."

The claws are long and very pointy so he's careful since he doesn't want to hurt the soft fleshy human, however big he is. He'll open his claws so that he can wrap it around the finger to make the point a little more intently.

See? He's got you.

The comment about the rats gets a huff and a snort, and the way he lifts his little head speaks to a certain amount of confidence in his ability to that probably looks ridiculous, but the little dragon is very firm. If he wanted to hunt a rat, he'd take down the rat. If the flies bother his person, he'll hunt them too. It doesn't matter how big or scary the threat that comes after them, he'll fight it.

This was getting too adorable for his sensibilities. He couldn't take it anymore and still feel like a man. So he huffed as he took his finger away and looked elsewhere stubbornly.

It would be a while before they came for him. They used come earlier for the sport of trying to get him to lose his meal but they'd eventually tired of the mess. So he had some time before they'd start the torture for the day.

"Should get some rest," he told the little creature in his hand. Meanwhile, internally he was trying to think of somewhere he could hide his new little friend. He was worried what would happen if the dragon was found.

The little creature in question takes that as an invitation to skitter up his arm and tuck up against the side of his neck. There, the purr is a little deeper and pressed into his skin as he nuzzles a little more directly. Then he’s settling there to sleep.

Majima was surprised by the sudden skitter up his arm and cuddling into his neck. The deep rumble was as soothing as it was disturbing, keeping him awake. However, he didn't mind. It wasn't time for him to rest. He wanted to think anyway.

He still hadn't come up with much by the time Shimano's men came. There wasn't a whole lot for him to go on, even after all this time. But he had new purpose to renew some of his lost strength. It wasn't just for him and Saejima now, but a more present reason, to protect this little one from harm, that he needed to struggle to survive.

The one-eyed man ran a finger down the dragon's spine to wake it gently and then before much else could happen he was hiding the small reptile. "You have to stay quiet now. No matter what happens or what you hear, you just stay here as still as a stone and silent as one. Got that?"

The little dragon doesn't sound pleased about that (he makes another of those huffing noises) but for the moment, he nods and slithers into a hole in the wall that seems to be reasonably big enough for him to hide in. He slides back far enough that even the glimmer of his golden claws isn't visible from the opening, and gets there just in time for Majima's visitors to open the door.

He doesn't fight it, that would only make it worse. But the point of the jailers wasn't to be nice. A thrown insult, a barked order, a flying fist to the face, Majima endured it all with complete silence and little to no reaction on his face.

Eventually he was dragged out of the cell. He only spared a quick glance back, even thinking that much was a mistake, but none paid it any mind. The little dragon was safe, unnoticed in his hiding hole, for now.

Majima, on the other hand, was not. It would be a long while before he returned.

The little dragon peers out and watches him go... and he growls, low and quiet, from his hole. He wants to follow him, but his person told him to stay here. He argues with himself for so long that he can't see where he went, though the scent is easy enough to follow.

Which is when he comes out of the little hole and starts following the scent. At least until he hits a wall and a door that's tight on the bottom and sides. Nowhere for him to sneak through, at least not obviously. So he'll have to try something else.

He goes back to the hole and that's when he looks to either side, noticing that there's space behind the wall. That's when he starts exploring inside the walls, which isn't a boring journey!

For one thing: there are definitely rats. And he has to fight them, slay them, and yes, kill and eat them so that he can keep going. After all, when is his person coming back? He doesn't know! And that means he has to take care of himself, show that he can, that he can fight the rats even though they're bigger.

They won't be bigger for long.

Eventually, though, he does hear his person. He can't seem to find a spot to get to the room where he is, which wall it is, even see him. But he can smell him and hear him.

And he doesn't like what he smells or hears. He might just growl loud enough into the wall that other people hear.

...guess what, Majima? Your friend is not a delusion.

At first Majima doesn't even hear the low growl of the little dragon on the other side of the wall. He was elsewhere. A different time, a different place, somewhere easier to live through than this. It was an easier way to survive if he just didn't clock in for the torture.

But when the attention of his torturers wanes and focuses elsewhere with one of them suddenly asking, "What the hell is that?" Majima's attention comes back to him immediately. He focuses his senses. He hears what they do just as one of them points at the wall. Another laughs and makes a joke about a feisty rat crawling in the walls.

Yet one of them gets a little more curious about the sound, a little too curious, and goes to check on the noise. That's when Majima does it: possibly the stupidest thing in his life. He speaks up, throws out a cheap line of insult. The men haven't heard Majima speak during sessions in quite a while. He used to act with more bravado. Or cry out for his sworn brother. He had stopped those things some time ago. Now here he was bad mouthing them out of the blue.

It got their attention. Majima came up with a better insult as now he had them all focused on him. He smiled at them to provoke them.

Mission accomplished. Even the curious dumbass turned back to Majima to swing the next blow.

He goes silent as he hears his person's voice, hears him mocking and insulting and he realizes only then, only as the blows begin, what he's doing.

He's furious but he also feels terrible: Majima is getting hurt more than he would have been if he hadn't been loud, if he hadn't made a scene. And so far, he doesn't think he can just break through the wall, not yet. He's strong but if he makes a mistake, he'll only get Majima hurt more.

But he made the mistake, so he won't leave. He'll listen to his person getting hurt, knowing it's his fault, feeling the guilt seep in, and he makes a promise to himself, is determined that it will be the last time. That he'll get strong enough to help his person, that he's going to eat every rat in these walls, and anything else he finds, until he's big and strong and he can help his person get away from this.

But for now, he'll listen. And seethe.

Majima kept up the taunting remarks as they beat him until he couldn't speak anymore. Then he rode the rest of the beating out in silence. But his plan had worked and that was all that mattered.

Hopefully, that hadn't just been an actual rat in the wall. He doubted it. Then again, he hadn't known dragons existed for real yesterday and now here he was protecting one that may or may not have been in the wall.

When they were done with him they drug him back into the cell and threw him. He didn't move from the spot they tossed him. He was breathing though if one looked closely enough to tell.

Once they're gone and he hears the footsteps fade out, he skitters out of the wall and starts to look over his person, breathe in the blood on the air, sniff to see what he smells, how much, how bad.

It doesn't make him feel any better.

He'll find a spot near his head and he's shaking, but he won't whimper, he won't cry, he won't put his pain before his person's because his pain is just in his head. His friend is bloody and bruised and they did that to him beccause of him. Because he wasn't strong enough yet, because he wasn't quiet enough.

He won't nuzzle, he hasn't earned that, but he'll try to quietly... well, it's a rumble, but it sounds very much like a purr at his size. Something to let Majima know he's there and he's with him even if he doesn't have words to tell him he's sorry.

In, and out. In, and out.

His breathing was steady at least. It was the easiest thing to concentrate on besides the pain. He'd learned that trick some time ago. How much time...he had no idea. He wasn't certain he wanted to know how long he had been down here anyway.

After a while... he didn't move.

"-asn't that bad."

It probably pained him to talk. He didn't let that deter him though as he spoke to the little rumbling reptile. What a cute purring sound from his not-cat friend. He was tempted to move but he waited a little longer.

"They weren't even tryin' that hard. Definitely done worse before."

In, and out. In, and out.

He managed to get a hand to move half a spasm. Like pulling teeth, he willed his muscles to move until he found the little purring dragon near his head and set his hand against it. He waggled a finger but honestly he couldn't see a thing right now with his head angled awkwardly and he didn't feel like moving more. Little guy was gonna have to move himself if he wanted the faint scritches Majima was offering.

In and out, in and out. It's a relief to hear it, to smell it, to know that his person is breathing even if there's pain, even if the scent tells him how much blood and pain there is, there's been.

He hears what Majima says but there's a soft, disbelieving snort at the first. The second comment gets a huff of irritation, though the irritation isn't at him. Quite the contrary.

...but when the finger moves, the little dragon immediately slides into place beneath it and against it, unwilling to let even one scritch go untaken. Affection from his human is the most important thing there is. And letting his human know he's loved and appreciated-

He purrs just a little louder as he tucks up in the spot against his finger. If Majima can see, he's already a little bigger than he was. Those rats had an effect.

"Heh. Eager."

Majima didn't have to see it to get the feeling of it as he scratched faintly at the dragon's scruff. The movement into the waggling finger was quick and the purr louder than ever. He couldn't do much but the little guy seemed to appreciate it nonetheless. It was cute, and maybe a little worrisome. How was he going to take care of this creature? He had nothing but a bruised and broken body at this point.

He sighed and finally pushed himself to a proper position. It wasn't much. He rolled over to lay on his back. It was better than the awkward scrawl he had landed in at least. His head lulled to the side to look at the dragon. He lay still for a moment.

Then he patted his chest with one hand in invitation.

The day wasn't over yet (probably) but he was ready for more sleep anyway. As much or little as he could get for now. Before whatever else may come next.

He doesn't have to tap twice. The little creature carefully picks his way up, making sure not to step on any of the bruises or the places on the skin that are hotter than others. Eventually, he finds a spot on his chest and circles a few times before curling up. He makes sure his head is facing Majima's so he can look at his person.

He purrs a little more; hopefully it will help his person sleep.

Majima was thankful for the careful, light steps. He hadn't thought it all the way through. However, the little guy was more intelligent than his age implied and Majima wondered briefly on that as he lay there with the purring creature on his chest. Idly, he rubbed its head with his thumb right between the stubby horns growing in.

The dragon's purr did the trick as desired. He was tired and achy and the comforting rumble quickly put the battered man to sleep.

The little dragon doesn’t sleep, not while Majima is sleeping. One of them has to keep watch. Instead, he stays where he is as he considers the problem.

One: his human needs to get out of here. Two: he’s still too small. Three: they’ll probably come back soon while Majima is still hurting. Four: he’s getting bigger and fast. Five: not big enough. But… maybe he’d soon be the right size.

He wishes he was better at planning. Mostly he just keeps thinking those pieces of information over and over.

Eventually, he decides that he’ll need to hunt more. And then find a good spot to hide so he can jump them when they come through the door. He feels like there should be more but he can’t think well with his person’s blood in his nose.

Majima woke not too long after getting to sleep, a dream stirring him from his would-be peaceful slumber. At least it was a mild nightmare. Some of them had him waking in full blown panic attacks, a cry of rage and sorrow on his lips. This one simply had him jerk awake, his heart hammering wildly in his chest, and his lone eye searching the shadows of the ceiling as if to spot something only he could see. There was, of course, nothing there.

He remained laying still after his mind caught on. The little guest was still on his chest and Majima didn't want to disturb him. His fingers found the scales of their own accord and rubbed at them gently, soothingly. (Soothing himself, truth be told.) It helped ground him and his thoughts strayed to what he was going to do with the little dragon in the future.

There wasn't much he could do. That's what he came to the conclusion of. He could do very little else but try to hide the small one and hope for the best. It worried him. He thought about revealing the dragon, pleading for its life, but he knew better than to wish it would be all right. He couldn't just hand the young one over to the gangsters that held him here. They'd either sell him for profit or worse keep him for some scheme or another. Majima knew that would never be any good.

That left him with very few options. It hurt. He couldn't protect anything if he tried. Not at this rate. Not at any rate. He would never be good enough.

His thoughts were interrupted by noises outside the door. It was almost a blessing. Almost.

It's never easy.

Every time Majima is taken from him, every time his person is either taken out of the cell or kept in and hurt, he shakes with rage in his little hiding space. That little hiding space has to get bigger and bigger as time passes, because he gets bigger and bigger; the cell is rarely bothered by rats anymore because the little dragon snatches up any of them foolish enough to try and enter his domain. Thankfully, they are often foolish.

It's been almost two weeks by the time it happens, by the time they realize as the noises are coming towards them that he's Too Big. That the wall won't hold him, that there's nowhere for him to go. But for the little dragon, he's been waiting for this. He's been waiting for the moment when he could, when his person will let him fight. His claws flex and his teeth gnash as he looks at the door, and he'll skitter in front of Majima, float up to put himself bodily between him and his captors.

It ends today.

The panic settles into his chest like a heavy blanket, thick and familiar but providing no comfort. It weighs him down, sends him waddling through a bog of imaginary scenarios and uncomfortable thoughts. Yet there is no outward sign of it except for the dull sheen to his eye and the slump of his shoulders. It would be easily confused with exhaustion or laziness under normal circumstances and if it weren't for the impeding doom awaiting him it might be impossible to realize the sense of defeat coming off Majima.

And yet it even this does not last. The dragon's movement catches Majima's eye and he looks up at where the much larger yet still not fully grown dragon hovers protectively in front of him. His heart skips a beat at the sight.

No, it couldn't last with this creature here. A new vigor washes over Majima, an ember deep within him suddenly coming to life, stoked into a new blazing fire. His hands clench into fists at his side. He couldn't, wouldn't let this divine beast fight on his behalf alone like this. It was pathetic and Majima wouldn't allow that of himself anymore. If this was it... he was going to go down fighting.

With new determination, Majima stepped forward and placed himself next to the hovering dragon, side by side, his eye focused intently on the door in front of them. He would fight for his new friend... and, maybe, they could escape together. Though Majima knew he would give his life if only to see the little dragon escape with his intact.

The thing is... they're expecting Majima. They're not expecting as much spirit in him, of course, not after all the days and weeks of him acting like the docile prisoner, the pennant. But even the idea that today might be the day that Majima Goro decides to fight them, that's in the realm of things that might happen.

The dragon floating in the air, very very solid in front of them, claws flashing even in the low light and the frills fluttering in the air around him as the scales catch the light?

Definitely not. Not even remotely.

And they're definitely not prepared for him to spring forward and start with an attack, chomping down on the man's shoulder as his tail flicks around to disarm him, knocking the whip he'd been carrying to the floor.

'The man', in this case, being Shimano Futoshi. And Majima has probably never heard him make that noise.

He has definitely never heard the man--or probably any man ever--make that particular noise. It echoed around in his skull in the few seconds time where he was stunned. Of all days that the big boss had to come back to watch him be tortured, or flavor things up with more belittling or "encouragement" to continue living just a little longer to taste freedom or whatever else bullshit the man wanted to coo out in his deep, ugly voice... well, it had to be today of all days.

It took a moment for Majima to shake out of his stupor. Fine! Good then! Let the bastard taste vengeance. It's not as if Majima could actually get out of here alive and get back into the clan or anything. Well, certainly not that last part anymore anyway. And it's certainly not that he would want to do that...except he wondered. No, no time to wonder. Now was time for action.

A new path was set before him. Majima jerked to the left as he saw an underling try to get inside the room past the dragon's lashing body, then the one-eyed man made a quick jab with his fist. It didn't hold much power in it--he was weak from malnutrition and lack of space to exercise, but it held a lot of conviction and spite in it. Enough to give it just a little power behind it.

Caught off guard, the underling took the blunt of the blow. He didn't drop, instead his attention shifted to Majima and now they stood squared off. Idly, Majima tried to watch what the dragonling (he couldn't stop thinking of it as a child still) was doing, how it fared in this fight.

For sunshinehan: a little light in the darkness

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