[He doesn't have a good answer for that. He knows threatening anything would be suicidal. So instead, he just tries to pry Kirei's fingers loose with his free hand. The panic is obvious, but there's no point in trying to hide that, either. It wouldn't do him any good. He's got nothing to gain by playing tough.]
[Kirei finds himself growing bored, sarcastically playing at duty and kindness, and his grip tightens around Byakuya's wrist. They both know where Kirei's interests lie - pretending otherwise is simply for the momentary enjoyment.
He watches Byakuya pry at his fingers, and he can't help but laugh at the pathetic display]
Are you too constantly inebriated to hide your fear? It would make you much less worthy of my attention.
[Byakuya isn't much larger in stature than his brother. He's no athlete, and Kirei's grip is unrelenting. It's painful, too, once he tightens it. A small, frightened noise rises in the back of his throat, and he doesn't try very hard to stop it.]
It's Kariya you want, isn't it? Why don't you leave me alone and wait for him, huh?
It's unfortunate for you that I'm not so simple a man. I want entertainment. I care little about where it comes from, and both you and Kariya offer exciting possibilities. I can watch him, enjoy how volatile he can be, and indulge in him when I please. You, on the other hand--
[Are you enjoying that pause? He hopes you are, Byakuya.]
You are all raw fear, reliable and consistent. It takes ten minutes to understand your patterns, and even less time to realize that you are a time bomb, a man with an unfortunately violent expiration date.
[Another pause as Kirei raises the bottle of whiskey, examining the label with faux scrutiny.]
[He's not sure how he's supposed to respond to that. He knows, in the logical part of his brain, that all the drinking is going to kill him eventually. But who cares? He'll die in a hospital at 60. That's not "violent". The very wording makes his heart pound even faster.
As for what he'd do... he's pretty sure that anything Kirei could come up with is even scarier than insomnia and nightmares.]
Why would I make an exchange for it? I'm not stupid!
Not stupid, perhaps, but desperate. I have no plan to return this to you without an exchange -- either you will go the rest of the night without it or humor me. Which will it be?
[The sound of the glass shattering is sharp, and moreso with what that liquor represents. It's comfort, a padding between Byakuya and reality, and seeing it spill haphazardly across the wood floor is a slap in the face. He can't escape reality right now. It's horrible, it's terrifying, and it's right in his face. Instead of a fear of the things that lurk around corners, this is fear of something that's already quite literally gotten ahold of him. He remembers the look on his wife's face when they took her, the first time he saw that Servant, and the cold pain in the eyes of the man who left bullet scars on his limbs.
[The reaction is better than he could have possibly expected. The terror in Byakuya's sobs is more than he could have possibly asked for, and he can't help but smile, tilting Byakuya's chin up so he can watch the tears flow.]
You're that upset? But you said not a moment ago that you didn't need it.
[Explaining himself probably won't help. Nothing will help, but trying to defend, to reason out and justify his reaction will likely just give Kirei something else to dig his claws into and exploit. So Byakuya doesn't explain. He just renews his struggling, desperately trying to wrench his arm free of the priest's grasp and refusing to make eye contact as he does.]
[Byakuya only makes a half-hearted effort to choke back his scream. It turns to terrified, pained keening, his tears coming harder as he stops struggling all at once. It hurts -- not as much as the bullets he's felt before, but bad enough, and he wilts.]
I will tell you this now, Matou Byakuya, your terror and your begging both fascinate me. Knowing that, would you truly expect me to let you go so easily?
[He kisses that limp hand, a small prelude to all the other things he wishes to do with this man.]
I don't imagine you would. Perhaps you forget when you're immersed in fear and in drink, but you know better, don't you?
[But he doesn't like it. He doesn't want to let it happen. Still, there's no getting out of Kirei's grasp right now, so his free hand instead comes up to wipe at his own eyes. He smiles a small, bitter smile, and sniffs.]
How good to see my judgement is, once again, correct. You're intelligent, sharp enough to at least understand the natures of others, and yet I could do this--
[He draws a Black Key, tracing a line gently across Byakuya's neck]
--and you would still tremble. Or I could do this--
[He drops Byakuya's wrist, but only to slam him into the wall and plant the Key's blade into his shoulder]
--And you would still scream for mercy despite the futility of it all.
[His reaction is exactly as Kirei predicted. The fear in the air is thick enough to choke even before he's stabbed, and once he does it's cut by a scream, then filled with whimpering sobs.
It's not fair. Kariya's the one who brought Kirei. Kariya's the one who deals with him. He shouldn't even be here right now, and Byakuya shouldn't have to face him like this.
He's too scared to speak, so instead he just thinks about how much he's going to lay into his brother later.]
[He holds still when Kirei says that, looking at the spare black keys with apprehension. He's familiar with bleeding too much -- Kiritsugu's bullets put him in the hospital from sheer blood loss, and he doesn't want to repeat that (or worse) now. He couldn't remove the blade from his shoulder if he wanted to when his other wrist is broken anyway. But it's painful not to run away, and there's not much pride between him and begging.]
That's a given, is it not? To be good, to be charitable, to be loving -- that is what is expected of people because those traits pave the way to a greater good for all. One would need to be dysfunctional to reject all those things.
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He watches Byakuya pry at his fingers, and he can't help but laugh at the pathetic display]
Are you too constantly inebriated to hide your fear? It would make you much less worthy of my attention.
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It's Kariya you want, isn't it? Why don't you leave me alone and wait for him, huh?
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[Are you enjoying that pause? He hopes you are, Byakuya.]
You are all raw fear, reliable and consistent. It takes ten minutes to understand your patterns, and even less time to realize that you are a time bomb, a man with an unfortunately violent expiration date.
[Another pause as Kirei raises the bottle of whiskey, examining the label with faux scrutiny.]
What would you do to make me return this to you?
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[He's not sure how he's supposed to respond to that. He knows, in the logical part of his brain, that all the drinking is going to kill him eventually. But who cares? He'll die in a hospital at 60. That's not "violent". The very wording makes his heart pound even faster.
As for what he'd do... he's pretty sure that anything Kirei could come up with is even scarier than insomnia and nightmares.]
Why would I make an exchange for it? I'm not stupid!
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...Let go. I don't need it that bad.
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[Well,if you insist -- he drops the bottle and keeps hold of Byakuya. He didn't say what to let go of, after all]
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[The sound of the glass shattering is sharp, and moreso with what that liquor represents. It's comfort, a padding between Byakuya and reality, and seeing it spill haphazardly across the wood floor is a slap in the face. He can't escape reality right now. It's horrible, it's terrifying, and it's right in his face. Instead of a fear of the things that lurk around corners, this is fear of something that's already quite literally gotten ahold of him. He remembers the look on his wife's face when they took her, the first time he saw that Servant, and the cold pain in the eyes of the man who left bullet scars on his limbs.
He freezes, and starts to cry.]
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You're that upset? But you said not a moment ago that you didn't need it.
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Ah, perhaps it's because I'm still here?
[A chuckle, low and cruel]
Then let me ask you this. What would you do to escape me?
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[He'll take that wrist and twist it with enough sudden force to snap the bones like a matchstick]
Pity you have such poor judgement, lashing out against a man whom you know to be...abnormal.
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Let go of me...
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[He kisses that limp hand, a small prelude to all the other things he wishes to do with this man.]
I don't imagine you would. Perhaps you forget when you're immersed in fear and in drink, but you know better, don't you?
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[But he doesn't like it. He doesn't want to let it happen. Still, there's no getting out of Kirei's grasp right now, so his free hand instead comes up to wipe at his own eyes. He smiles a small, bitter smile, and sniffs.]
I'm not stupid. You're a monster.
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[He draws a Black Key, tracing a line gently across Byakuya's neck]
--and you would still tremble. Or I could do this--
[He drops Byakuya's wrist, but only to slam him into the wall and plant the Key's blade into his shoulder]
--And you would still scream for mercy despite the futility of it all.
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It's not fair. Kariya's the one who brought Kirei. Kariya's the one who deals with him. He shouldn't even be here right now, and Byakuya shouldn't have to face him like this.
He's too scared to speak, so instead he just thinks about how much he's going to lay into his brother later.]
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[He eyes the two other keys he has on him -- to use them or not?]
By the by, I would be cautious. I couldn't tell you what you'd sever if you struggled right now.
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You're sick...
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I'm afraid there's only so much self denial that even a man of God can weather.
[He slides a hand down Byakuya's shirt, slowly undoing the buttons]
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[His wrist may be broken, but he can still push at Kirei's hand. It's just a weak push, mostly with his forearm.]
Get away from me!
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