"You’re such an ass, Yuu," Isami snarled, pinning Yuu to the wall with his rock solid arms, his eyes narrowed. "That’s not what I meant!"
Yuu glared back, struggling uselessly against Isami’s grasp. He felt dizzy today, disconnected, and he didn’t understand half the thoughts, half the memories, floating around in his brain. He thought he was an old man gardening with his grandchildren, or a grown man learning to kill with nothing but his bare hands, or a small child taking a train by himself for the first time. Each thought flash lasted less than a second, but enough that it left him senseless and disoriented. Ever since defeating Noein, he had these episodes every so often. It was as if bits of every other Yuu, every other Karasu, flashed through him, like deleted recordings resurfacing as glitches on a computer hard drive.
"So then why don’t you tell me what you meant," Yuu told Isami, hoping that he was speaking to the right Isami, in the right time, in the right conversation.
Isami studied him for a long moment then suddenly pressed Yuu back against the wall with his entire body and kissed him. Yuu’s head knocked back against the cement as Isami stole his breath, his entire body warming, thrilling to the intimacy. Isami buried his fingers in Yuu’s hair, tugging, his tongue thrusting inside Yuu’s mouth, making Yuu feel tight inside his own skin. Somehow, the idea that anyone could happen by behind the school made it even more intense.
And then the flashes. He felt Fukurou, fully grown, cloaked in black, take his face in his large hands and kiss him, gently, much more gently, promising Karasu he still had him. Then it was Haruka, her hair long and silver, kissing Yuu before walking away. Her kiss tasted of tears. Then there was Isami, older, kissing the back of Yuu’s neck, his hands slowly sliding their way down to Yuu’s belt and into Yuu’s trousers, and Yuu dropped the spoon into the nabe pot. Then there was Fukurou again, cold and immobile as Karasu bit his lips, frozen solid until he suddenly seized Karasu about the shoulders and drew him closer, deepening the bite into a kiss.
And then Isami pulled back in the present, and his chin trembled as he studied Yuu. “That. That’s what I meant.”