the gray sky was vast and real cryptic above me
The way Kai takes it on the chin only inflames Koa's anger, because how dare his cousin be so damned composed while Koa falls apart. If they were five years younger and not in his dead mother's house this fight would turn to fists; even so he aches to sock that smug, flinty look off Kaisel's face, to shake the kid until they're both too bruised to hold onto their egos.
Finally, finally something shakes loose. A twisted satisfaction crunches in Koa's chest as his cousin finally snaps, finally drops the I'm-so-innocent-and-sorry-and-good act. "No, I think you didn't think." It's as though seeing Kai snap has settled Koa - he's no longer panting, suddenly calm. His fists are still balled, but the nails no longer bite into his skin as he adjusts his fingers, letting them flex and contract. Briefly his eyes sharpen again as Kai continues on: "But why'd it have to be you?" he counters, a crack of pain in his voice.
And then, softer, the true hurt breaking through: "Why'd it have to be her?"
Because she was Flora, of course.
Suddenly he can see it all: Kaisel's idiotic logic, the way he'd tried to be the best of boys and wound up breaking everything along the way. It's a family trait, it seems, and in the end hadn't Kai just followed the path Koa'd carved for him, followed the footsteps of his older cousin into this age-old trap? Maybe this is Koa's fault for not keeping an eye on the boy. For not seeing far enough past his own shit to prevent Kai from stumbling into the same pitfalls. For failing to protect his cousin, his sister, his home.
Koa sighs heavily, anger tempered by a hurt exhaustion that bites into his bones. "Y'know what, Kai? Fine." Arms cross over his chest, a gate closing between them, shutting Kai out from the damage he's done. "Go to King's End. Sort your shit out. Do what you have to do to get your head on right. But then?"
It's Koa's turn to lift his chin up, hard steel in his voice as he stares Kaisel down. "You're coming home." It's a command, not a suggestion. "Stormbreak needs all hands on deck if she's going to rebuild. You have responsibilities. You're still a Dragoon." He lifts a brow, letting a note of sharp accusation slide past his wall as he adds a pointed: "Unless you're leaving that behind, too?" It's a cruel question, an open guilt trip, but Koa doesn't care. Let Kai hate him, resent him, whatever he has to do. Better to get it out in the open, than wait for the next knife in his back. His cousin has already shown that in the mess of this web, it's Koa whose feelings he cares about the least.
Finally, finally something shakes loose. A twisted satisfaction crunches in Koa's chest as his cousin finally snaps, finally drops the I'm-so-innocent-and-sorry-and-good act. "No, I think you didn't think." It's as though seeing Kai snap has settled Koa - he's no longer panting, suddenly calm. His fists are still balled, but the nails no longer bite into his skin as he adjusts his fingers, letting them flex and contract. Briefly his eyes sharpen again as Kai continues on: "But why'd it have to be you?" he counters, a crack of pain in his voice.
And then, softer, the true hurt breaking through: "Why'd it have to be her?"
Because she was Flora, of course.
Suddenly he can see it all: Kaisel's idiotic logic, the way he'd tried to be the best of boys and wound up breaking everything along the way. It's a family trait, it seems, and in the end hadn't Kai just followed the path Koa'd carved for him, followed the footsteps of his older cousin into this age-old trap? Maybe this is Koa's fault for not keeping an eye on the boy. For not seeing far enough past his own shit to prevent Kai from stumbling into the same pitfalls. For failing to protect his cousin, his sister, his home.
Koa sighs heavily, anger tempered by a hurt exhaustion that bites into his bones. "Y'know what, Kai? Fine." Arms cross over his chest, a gate closing between them, shutting Kai out from the damage he's done. "Go to King's End. Sort your shit out. Do what you have to do to get your head on right. But then?"
It's Koa's turn to lift his chin up, hard steel in his voice as he stares Kaisel down. "You're coming home." It's a command, not a suggestion. "Stormbreak needs all hands on deck if she's going to rebuild. You have responsibilities. You're still a Dragoon." He lifts a brow, letting a note of sharp accusation slide past his wall as he adds a pointed: "Unless you're leaving that behind, too?" It's a cruel question, an open guilt trip, but Koa doesn't care. Let Kai hate him, resent him, whatever he has to do. Better to get it out in the open, than wait for the next knife in his back. His cousin has already shown that in the mess of this web, it's Koa whose feelings he cares about the least.
Koa
I wanted you to love me like you used to do
