【Hammer Base】Forever in Love Underwater

pain.

At the beginning, he didn't know how to express the feeling of "pain".As a baby, his options for calling for help were too limited.His green, tearful eyes were wide open, and he looked helplessly here and there, as if trying to catch some glimmer of hope in the small circle of vision above the cradle; The eyelashes were all wet; they were thick and black, curled up in clusters, as if a painter had carefully sketched them out with paint—he was especially good-looking when he was crying, and there was a miserable and pitiful look at the corners of his brows and eyes.

His mother took pity on him and held him in her arms, singing and shaking him softly.But she didn't understand, his tears were not coquettish, but begging for help - she never understood.It hurts, it hurts, it hurts—he was in tears. "Grow up, dear baby, and be a hero, and run around—" his mother sang.What a gentle and beautiful singing voice, but it was completely different from what he wanted.

pain.

He wanted to tell others how much he hurt.So his pink mouth kept moving, like a flower bone that just opened a small opening, shivering in the cold wind; his soft, fresh cheese-like hands and feet were shaking and kicking, There was a rustling sound in the cradle in the middle of the night; at the same time, his flat belly rose and fell solemnly - he breathed with all his strength, but the air His mouth and nose have always become very cunning: it hides and hides, and he must concentrate on sucking it into his body; no matter how hard he tries, he will often suffocate without warning, choking water coughing.

But when the air enters the body, it brings not only vitality, but also a hot tingling pain; the tingling pain pours into his nasal cavity, trickles down his throat, circles in the lung lobes, and flows into the blood among.

But he has to breathe.

To live——At first, it was just an instinctive plea: I want to live, please, I will obediently breathe hard, don’t let me die; but then, the will to live became a stubbornness burning with anger: I want to live—I want to live!The more intense the pain, the more indestructible his will—he was fighting against the invisible enemy, his little face was flushed from the suffocation, and his little fists were clenched tightly—he was breathing desperately, breathing with tears, and breathing tremblingly.

pain.It hurts to breathe, it hurts to blink, it hurts to swallow.The delicate silk covered his body, like rough sandpaper, pulling at his skin; the fresh milk dripped into his mouth, and immediately became like a handful of broken glass, scratching his throat; sunlight, candlelight , moonlight, all the light made his eyes sting.He was in a soft swaddle, but it was like being caught in a sea of ​​swords and fire.Even the breeze would hurt him.He was exposed to this world, like a mass of flesh and blood without skin, suffering nakedly.

pain.

His earliest clear memory, aside from endless pain, belonged to his brother.

Spring is warm, the birds are singing, the flowers are fragrant, the breeze is intoxicating - until he grows up and reads countless poems praising spring, he realizes that "spring" has always been such a beautiful and precious time for other people .But in his world, there is not much difference between spring and severe heat and cold, both of which are the source of pain.The singing of birds made his ears ring, the smell of flowers gave him a headache, and the breeze made him tremble.Spring doesn't love him, and he doesn't love spring either.

But his mother didn't know about it.She put him in the middle of the garden, and wanted him to breathe the fresh air that smelled of flowers.Fresh clusters of flowers hung from the bushes and watched him silently; they were bright red, and the striking color frightened him.He began to cry sobbingly—he would no longer cry at that time, because speaking was also a kind of pain; and he already understood that no matter how much he cried, the pain could not be relieved, so why bother to do useless work? ?His crying was no longer a cry for help—he gave up calling for help.He just cried to himself, like a kind of vigilance, but also like a declaration of war: even though he was crying, he didn't give up.

Then his brother appeared.

A little boy with blond hair and a little ponytail pushed back the burning bushes and looked down at him.His blond hair was brighter than the sun, and his body smelled of sweat, earth and a bit of blood caused by running and playing--his brother was more beautiful, more dazzling and more beautiful than anyone and everything he had ever seen. Enthusiastic, and correspondingly, more unbearable.He just leaned down to look at him, and he couldn't stand it; he was overwhelmed by the approaching fresh heat; he opened his mouth blankly, forgetting to make a sobbing sound, just dripping. Tears—he ate so little, but cried all day long, no wonder he was always a skinny little boy.

His brother looked at him—a look he remembered, comforting and tormenting until the moment of his death—a look of understanding and love.You can hardly imagine how a child could have such eyes.Seeing him cry, his brother's eyes turned red: he felt sorry for him, as if he was a part of his body, they suffered together, so they had to cry together.

"Loki," his brother called his name - the first time he heard and remembered his name clearly from his mouth, "I love you."

As he said that, his elder brother held his face with his hands—his tender palm brought him unexpected pain, as if he had given him two slaps; then he lowered his head, pursed his mouth, A light kiss on the mouth.His mother sometimes kissed him like this, so his brother learned the gesture of love and intimacy.

In that instant, all pain disappeared.

His brother bowed his head and kissed him, and he saw the light; not the blinding light that made him weep, but the golden light of dim beauty.He heard the murmur of running water and the sound of birdsong; not the noise that made him restless, but the melodious ding-dong.He felt the breeze—a soft, sweet touch that sent a pleasant shiver down his spine.

He was born for a long time, but it was not until his brother gave him a kiss that he felt the joy of "being alive" for the first time.

——It turns out that this is what it feels like to be alive—it can be more than just pure pain.The beds are comfortable, the air is pleasant, and breathing requires no extra effort.

Spring had surrounded him for a moment, and he looked up in amazement at the flower that had so irritated him just a moment before—how beautiful it looked now!Layers of bright petals surround the tender stamens, which are plated with golden sunlight and reveal a refreshing fragrance.He reached out his hand curiously to touch its curling petals.

But the moment his fingertips touched the stamens, everything began to fade rapidly again; as if the cold winter had come in an instant, all the colors and smells withered and withered in his world; the red of the petals became eerie, soft The edge became sharp and scratched his fingers all of a sudden; the spring put away its illusory good looks and became cold and cruel again; the wind kicked him several times solidly; he suddenly felt unbearable, cried again.

His outstretched hand grabbed his brother's neckline instead—the gold thread embroidery on it pierced his palm like a tricky blade, but he couldn't care less: he wanted his brother to kiss him.

He opened his mouth, "Brother!" He called, "Brother!"

He kept repeating the word "pain" over and over in his mind; he kept longing to open his mouth and say it.But when he really opened his mouth, the first word he yelled out was "brother"—what a strange fate, it seemed that he already knew his future at that time: this was the word that hurt him the most in the Nine Realms, and it was also The only word in the Nine Realms that can save him.

His brother leaned down and pecked him on the mouth.Like a big bird feeding a chick, that light peck made him satisfied and quiet.His green, tear-filled eyes stared in shock at his brother - who had blue eyes.The light of the sky is always dazzling, and the floating clouds bring shadows that frighten him. He has never dared to look directly at the sky, so he doesn't know what blue is; this is the first time he really sees blue: it is mysterious , Deep and quiet color.

Blue is my brother's eyes, gold is my brother's long hair and eyelashes, and pink is my brother's nails.

He saw all the beautiful colors from his elder brother.

"Brother." He continued calling.

My brother kissed him again—this time, he didn't leave immediately, but pressed his soft lips against his soft lips.The two of them were face to face, nose to nose, lips to lips, breathing quietly.The air exhaled from the elder brother's lips was hot, it was so friendly and enthusiastic, it willingly drilled into his nose, comforting his throat, lung lobes, and blood vessels properly.

When he breathed his breath, he was out of pain.

Then, the brother's lips moved up and kissed him lightly on the tip of his nose; this kiss was also magical.The pain-dispelling magic came to the corners of his eyes, brows, and forehead, so his tightly clustered eyebrows stretched out, and the red tide receded from the corners of his eyes—the sad and crying face disappeared from his face, and he became a little boy with a sweet smile. Baby.When he smiles, little dimples appear.

Their mother walked out into the garden and found this lovely and eerie sight - the older brother crawling into his younger brother's cot, curled up, hugging his younger brother, with his mouth pressed to his forehead.And that poor little boy who was always crying because of many disasters, unexpectedly just fell asleep so peacefully.There were no tears on his eyelashes.

His parents found him the best doctor in the country.The doctor squeezed his little hands, opened his mouth, observed his tongue and throat, and carefully diagnosed his heartbeat and breathing.But experienced doctors can't see anything.This noble little prince sleeps in the most precious silk and drinks the freshest dew and milk. What makes him cry?His breathing is like that of a seriously ill old man, with a gasp, a pause, another gasp, and then a cough—after the cough, there will be no movement for a long time, and you almost suspect that he has died; but immediately, he Breathing began again: a gasp, a pause, another gasp.

pain.

This doctor can't see anything, and that doctor can't see anything.Later, I don't know which doctor started this claim first. In short, all the doctors finally agreed: the prince is not sick, he is just attracting attention.Most children try to get attention. They cry, beat and roll around, and that's human.It’s just that the second prince of Asgard is special—they choose their words carefully, hoping to express their guesses without annoying the noble king and queen—finally they chose the word “persistence” to replace “curious”, "Greedy", "I don't know good and bad": "The second prince is not sick, he is just attracting attention, and he is very persistent."

But everyone heard the implication of the word "persistence".Those maids who were exhausted by his crying day and night understood the fact that their second prince was born to be a surly seed, crying and torturing everyone just to attract attention.No matter who came to coax him, he would struggle indiscriminately and cry non-stop.Unless the eldest prince—the warm, kind, energetic little sun comes to hug him and kiss him, he will sleep peacefully for a while.

pain.

He gradually gained consciousness and gradually gained will.No one has ever pulled his ears and told him "you are not good, you are annoying", but he knows all the expressions of disgust and dissatisfaction without a teacher.He cried less and less.When he finally gritted his teeth and endured the pain of bones colliding, he learned to walk slowly, and he also learned to hide the pain: he staggered around in the huge fairy palace, looking for any quiet and unoccupied corner , curled up, and wept.He hated his weakness - why do you always cry?He scolded himself in anger.His little face was flushed, and the tears flowed and dried up, making his face tight, dry and itchy.He couldn't help reaching out to grab it, and if he was not careful, he would scratch the skin again.

He used stacks of classics to form a simple enclosure, and hid himself in a corner to cover himself, reading books while crying; he flipped through an adventure bard, and the descriptions there fascinated him—when he was fascinated, he He hardly remembers the torment he suffered; but the comfort brought by indulging in fantasies is short-lived, and then he will always smell the pungent camphor in old books suddenly, or he will just be caught. Pained by the beating of his heart, he fell back to reality.He cried for a while, watched for a while, and cried for a while, his little face was chapped, his little hands were dirty, and he wiped his face here and there.

He saw one word: choke.The person who wrote the book described "suffocation" in this way: the knight fell into the rushing river, and the icy river water kept pouring into his mouth and nose, making his lungs ache; the river was full of broken branches and mud, whistling His skin hurts all over; he tried to open his eyes, but the dirty river water poured into his eyes, making him unable to see.He was floating in the water in despair, his consciousness intermittent, and he had no hope of surviving.

He was stunned.

"Suffocation," he said softly, "like I'm underwater."

When his brother found him in the library, he cried out of breath—he said over and over again, "I'm suffocating," he said vaguely and imploringly, clutching at the hem of his brother's coat, "I'm underwater."

His brother was shocked.He reached out, touched it under his nose, and let out a sigh of relief.

"You're not suffocating," my brother said gravely, "You're breathing."

He shook his head desperately.He was breathing, but he was suffocating, the world was suffocating him.Why doesn't he understand?How could he not understand?In a hurry, he stood on tiptoe and kissed his brother—the lips met, and finally, the feeling of suffocation disappeared briefly.But he still couldn't stop crying.He knew that as long as his brother turned his head and left, the feeling of suffocation would return.His whole body was tense, his breathing was hot, and his eyeballs were swollen and painful, as if he was pressed under the water.The air is like water, and only his brother's breath is his air.

Why doesn't he understand?

Later, he finally understood why his brother didn't understand how he felt.

That day, he was waiting in his brother's room for him to come back—my brother and his friends went riding horses, and he wanted to go too—God knows, he didn't want to be separated from him for a moment.But he was afraid of pain, so he could only wait at home while reading a book.His endurance skills have made great progress, and he can walk outside for a day with patience and staggering.But he was still terrified of the violent and bumpy sport of riding a horse.He didn't know how others could bravely ride horses and go to war, and he blamed himself deeply for his failure to live up to expectations.

Then his brother limped into the room.He smelled blood and was startled.My brother was injured, and his right leg was cut open with a long cut.My brother is in pain, and he is in pain too.They fell on the bed, and his heart seemed to be stabbed into hot coals. "Brother," he said foolishly, crying foolishly, blowing the wound foolishly, "it doesn't hurt, it doesn't hurt."

The corners of his brother's eyes were red, but he forced a smile, "It's okay, I've already applied the medicine, and it doesn't hurt anymore."

He raised his head stupidly, opened his mouth stupidly, and looked at his brother: "Did you apply the medicine? Does it hurt?"

what does that mean?

"Yes, the wound was smeared with medicine," his brother stretched out his hand and made a smearing motion. "It's cool, numb, and it doesn't hurt anymore. After a few days, the wound will heal and it won't hurt anymore." gone."

He looked down at his brother's wound.What does "never hurt again" mean?

Suddenly, a shocking thought hit him: his brother, wouldn't be in pain all the time.

Only he hurts.Only he will "choke".Only he lives under water.

He raised his head and carefully confirmed, "If there is no wound, will it not hurt?"

His brother looked at him a little suspiciously, as if he said something stupid, "Of course, if there is no injury, it won't hurt."

His hand—a trembling hand, gently touched the corner of his brother's eyes, "Won't the eyes hurt?" He touched his cheek, "Won't the skin hurt?" He pressed his hand to his chest , "Won't it hurt inside?"

His brother shook his head.

He actually shook his head.

Fortunately he shook his head.

At that moment, he was relieved - his brother was not like him!His elder brother, living in the spring and sunshine, looked up at the blue sky, and lowered his head to caress the softness of the petals.His older brother, lives above the water.His favorite prince, his favorite god, will never hurt like him.

Then it occurred to him that he didn't cry because he was weak—others didn't cry because they didn't live underwater like he did.This thought is like a key, with a twist, it unlocks the jealousy, unwillingness and resentment in his body.

But why?Why is he the only one who needs to endure endless pain?Why does his body loathe him, resist, pull at him like he doesn't deserve it?Why was the whole world rejecting him and stinging him as if he were an alien invader?Why is there pain in every drop of his blood, every breath, as if he is a defective doll that was forcibly kneaded from the wrong material?What had he done wrong - was he cursed?

Why does he live in the world, cold and alone, as if he is seriously ill?

pain.

"Kiss me, brother." He begged softly.

If only you would kiss me, he thought, I will never hate you.

TBC