dear_mun | (no subject)

Drinking and smoking.

Is that your solution to everything, Klaus?

As long as I've the time and you've got the inclination to let me get away with it.

This sounds like a convincing argument to keep you on a tighter schedule.

If you have the luxury of throwing away your hours on useless depravities- then clearly you have time to invest yourself in more productive efforts.

That so? And what'll you have of me? Shall I give your shoes a nice polish? Peel potatoes for the cook? Iron bandage strips? Or are we going to play pretend and suppose your men might work decently with the foreigner for a domestic project?

All ears, sir.

I shouldn't think that I need to act as your sitter in order for you to manage successful cooperation with the rest of the division. I'm not requiring you to make friends; only keep busy and refrain from starting skirmishes.

Nor should I have to behave as your parent and spend my own time attempting to finding you suitable chores to occupy your idle hands. You have two feet and certainly no inhibitions when it comes to speaking up.

You can discover on your own where the lending of an extra hand or further man-power is needed.

Fair enough. Suppose it's come to my attention the officer in charge of supplies needs a second set of working hands?

That's..acceptable.

[ Adjusts to the unexpected answer with as much finesse as he can muster. Taki had expected more resistance- and certainly not a ready answer such as this. ]

So long as you follow regulations about the transfer of crates or heavier materials.

[ A subtle nod to Klaus' injuries; strict orders masking concern. ]

[ He has to chuckle; it's always, in a wicked way, endearing whenever Taki's naivete keeps him from finer truths.

A little bit of good-natured laughter. ]

Supply officers handle the cigarette, liquor and morphine ratios too, Taki.

[ He's humiliated to core. To be so foolishly blind to this fact really doesn't say much for his comprehension of the mechanics of the unit- beneath the glossy facade he's exposed to.

It takes a moment for him to quell the backlash of his wounded pride, and let that simmer into a resigned sense of defeat. Yelling wouldn't do him any favors; but that doesn't mean Taki can completely wipe the traces of a scowl off his face. ]

..You enjoy toying with me, don't you?

[ His hand comes up defensively. ]

At ease. Happens in any unit. If they didn't hit up the goods, or smuggle them, or bribe the scheduling officer for third watch so they can sneak out to see some women - well. They wouldn't be soldiers, and you'd have a problem with morale.

[ And then the hand goes down, something of a cocky smile returning. As for the second question... ]

I don't toy with you. You just ask questions you like and I give you answers I like. But we both take this very seriously.

Strange that you know my men far better than I.

[ There exists no doubt that what Klaus speaks is the absolute truth. All of it. Yet somehow, between his rank and higher priorities- such indiscretions have always been within Taki's blind spot. ]

For all the assumed differences and prejudices held against your favor, it's you who grasps their sensibilities with ease and completion.

[ Yet- he should be responsible for that role. Comprehending the man fighting under his command; aware of their goals, ambitions and even that which bolsters the will to continue- shouldn't that be Taki's position? Yet it isn't, not in all honesty. Not if this is just a glimpse into all which he remains ignorant of concerning his troops. ]

Do you also claim to know me so well that you can assume my stance on our conversations?

[ Base physical needs and religion never go hand in hand: as long as Taki stays their God, his men won't expose him to lesser realities. It's how this entire, utterly deranged unit works, and it's how Klaus has learned to handle it.

But there are other binds of ignorance he feels less inclined to excuse. His head tilts slightly to the right, glance sharp, predatory. Fixed. After all, Taki's in full perspective. ]

Tell me I was wrong.

I'm not certain it would be more than a waste of breath to try.

[ Whether it's pure instinct or not, Taki's eyes meet the challenge within that rather scrutinizing gaze baring down upon him. His intention was not to question Klaus' guess itself; but rather if the other man truly understood Taki as well as he could comprehend the philosophy of those soldiers around him. That full comprehension is what the commander brings into question. But it's unnecessary to explain his thinking to Klaus. Pointless. Taki never expects his nature to be grasped beyond so many veils of deception or the mask he dons. Not by anyone, least of all Klaus. ]

....

[ When it comes to the subject of Taki- ]

You have the tendency of deciding upon your own version of the truth; ignoring all evidence to the contrary.

[ His eyes lower first, the ambitious smile neatly dissolved into bravado. Cute. Taki Reizen, you take the time to be cute. ]

There are easier ways to call me a fool. You need to be coached through them?

You're the one posing no dispute against my claim.

[ That fact alone surprises him. But it's the hollow tone of Klaus' retort which almost lays a hand of guilt upon his shoulder and makes Taki regret slipping questions into the conversation which he knows Klaus neither perceives nor can answer. ]

So if anything, I'm not the only one. Unless you actually disagree.

[ Quieter. Thoughtful. ]

Are you a fool, Klaus?

[ Click of the tongue; nonchalantly - ]

More of one with every damned breath. Can't say I mind, if it's for...

[ 'Taki'? 'A good cause'? 'Something that matters'? Synonyms. And always.

In a book somewhere, this sort of fealty would read romantic, and a thousand learned ladies would want the same devotion, and more than that number of men would want a reason to provide. The thought amuses Klaus, keeps his tone light. ]

If it comes with its benefits.

[ Taki's brows knit together for the briefest instant. This wasn't what he had set out to do. Name-calling and belittling the other man brought him not an ounce of satisfaction; instead those words only sat like lead weight in his chest. Words he had expected to be met with resistance- not weary acceptance.

Something in him wavers a moment and Taki forces himself to stare impassively off towards nothing; anything but Klaus as he focuses on composing the next words that follow. ]

Don't shame me. However erroneous your assumptions may be- I did not pick an idiot for a Knight, nor a man would would ever concede to such a title. No matter who attempted to bestow it.

[ Fingers come together quickly in a curt imitation of a military salute. ]

Aye-aye.

[ The temptation is there, always quite there, but no. He refuses - absolutely refuses - to give in and add to Taki's poor humour. ]

I'll read books and maps where your generals see me, and recite good Katsuragi a poem or two. Goethe maybe. Seems like something he'd like. Now imagine we two ogres exchanging verse. Funny sight, wouldn't it be?

[ It seems that even within Taki's attempts towards salvaging some sliver of kindness between them, albeit vague in nature and roundabout in their level of compassion, he fails. Or perhaps that Klaus simple cannot bring himself to acknowledge the break in Taki's chilly resolve, or accept that even the great commander himself admits to harboring no right in painting Klaus with the damning light of a fool. Even still- it might be the inescapable bite to his words. No matter how those words might defend Klaus in principle; they sting in acting out their role as shield. Always and forever cold. But that's all he can give. ]

...

[ A scoff. The mockery of such a military gesture riles Taki, because he knows it's sarcastic. Taunting him. But not enough to wrangle out more than the initial prickle of offense.]

...Your interaction with him has already been strange enough without the unnecessary inclusion of poetry.

[ There's something here he's missing, something in their exchange that went a little - wrong. His instinct says as much, that underneath the pleasantries, Taki's taken to anger.

Klaus' smile stays sincere. ]

I could sing for him? You'd like that better? We should have you stay and grit your teeth and listen through it. Bet you've never heard a donkey at it before.

[ A hand goes out. ]

Come on. Laugh.

[ Everything goes awry when he's close to the other man; as if the very core of his reason is suddenly launched into a wild and out of control spiral the moment they share the space or breathe the same air. Only with Klaus- that's the only time he's driven out of his mind towards upset, hurt, and so much more. Driven out of his mind. Enough that Taki is left blind and deaf to the faint nuances like this; moments when Klaus derails from their push and pull. Where the other man is.. open and affectionate. Wanting for Taki's laughter of all things.

Thankfully that's enough. The hand. Those lighthearted words. They pull him out of that tailspin Klaus himself has cast Taki into, and suddenly there no regret or worry. All that his focus centers upon remains the shape of a hand tentatively pressing itself into the groove of Klaus' calloused palm; a space so well-fitting that it feels meant for his own. ]

I- don't think I've heard you before. Sing, that is.

[ He clarifies, managing a wary but steady upturn of lips at the thought. Small talk and thoughtless replies until he can regain balance and adjust to the sudden warmth here where there had been none for a long time. Taki's eyes search the features of a face harboring no traces of the resentment and fury which had been familiar company until now. Laughter may not be immediate; but he is far closer to it now than in moments prior. ]

[ Klaus' fingers press into Taki's, the grasp confident. Strange, no, bittersweet to have this privilege again - if never unwelcome. He wouldn't mind stealing Taki away from the world, rather than these precious few moments away from Taki's tight control. ]

Fair's fair, Commander. Set an example, toughen it out.

[ ...yes, he sings something: a short mountain tune about a shepherd and his lady love, which dissolves into whistling towards the end. There are things, many things that Klaus can do - but sadly, holding a proper note is not one of them. ]

[ It's not unpleasant or sour, even if the notes Klaus meanders for are a long ways from songbird-sweet or hit with anything near crystal clarity. But however rough about the edges it might be; Taki is no less reverent in his observation than he would be for the baritone or tenor of an opera. Because this isn't mechanically fabricated through persistent practice nor orchestrated by the dip and sway of music behind the tune. It's real, raw, even so very imperfect around the edges. Yet unexpectedly- wanted, much like the man himself.]

...

[ Funnily enough, as coarsely sung as that melody might have been- it executes the task of blanking out Taki's every thought with a swiftness rivaling any sweetly sung spell. Speechless and without real thought behind the matter he impulsively falls upon a soft recital of the lyrics; his words gradual and with a hint of question in their tone. Eventually they build, not quite near the middle, until he's returning the song for the sheer sake of learning this small piece of Klaus and committing it to memory. Voice still reluctant to raise to even normal capacity even as the tune begins to grow comfortable on his lips. Where Klaus had whistled Taki instead decides to hum; steadily less certain of his choice of reply as silence creeps up in place of the song itself. ]

[ Sheer, almost reverent silence, when Taki has his - 'performance.' Devoid of artistry, it boasts a certain charm.

(This man. This man sings it, and there's a war, and he'll send boys to die tomorrow, or within the hour, and now he's singing about sheep.)

Klaus' free hand comes to hover in a line trailed between the very tip of Taki's nose and his lips. There, the searching finger tries to tap the lower lip in a gesture stuck somewhere between stilted appreciation and playfulness. ]

Show-off. If army life one day no longer suits you, we'll have to pack you up for a Conservatory.

[ Taki remains painfully aware of the conspicuous presence that digit exudes; the way it schools skin to still and quells the voice in his throat to silence. For all his grand ferocity during every verbal altercation the pair parade through- Taki can be rendered still and cautious in his demeanor with an air that would deceive all others into reading as docile. It's a rarity of expression reserved only for Klaus- existing nowhere else but in the very instant they find their way outside of that arena of scathing remarks and grating tension.

So here the commander sits. A leader of thousands; harbinger of strength, faith and direction for his men. Yet he remains a man, nonetheless. One hushed all too easily, simply, by nothing more spectacular than the bridging of a touch between Klaus to himself. ]

Even now- you still aim to convince me there are other lives I should be living, elsewhere?

[ They've had this conversation before, where Klaus imagined a different path for him. In the present it may be a joke, a thoughtless ounce of jestful small talk perhaps, but the words are still spoken. Despite their lack of urgency the idea is still very much the same as it had been before. A lifetime ago, if not in actuality then at least in how distant and unreachable that time feels when recollection grasps for the memory. ]