[He scrutinizes Leona in silence for a while longer. It's such an easy thing to swear loyalty, to forge a promise. It's much harder to maintain that. HiMERU had come to Leona once in poorly-masked desperation, because for as confidence and resourceful he makes himself appear — the reality is not so generous. It is HiMERU himself repeatedly limiting his own options, for one reason or the next, and while one should feel closer to a person after having shown them such a vulnerable moment...
One door closes, another opens. He'll regain his bearings with Leona one way or another.]
Fine.
[The line of his back is still straight as an arrow. There's nothing pleasant about delving into this memory, and even standing on the shore of it keeps him rigid. Why go out of the way for a magical memshare? We have reminiscent unhappiness at home.]
... The first thing you should know is that Yodaka is from the past. I've seen things he hasn't yet, things almost no one else here knows about. When I told you that bastard is dangerous, it's because I've seen what he's done, that no one else here can testify to.
[His voice does not waver, but it's distant. His gaze, even further away. HiMERU isn't in the Nest, on the couch of a house on Poppy street; he's there in the auditorium, watching; he's there on the stage, wailing. Every flying fist, every gnash of teeth—]
He incited an angry mob, looked to the person willingly at his side, and made him the sacrificial lamb. Slashing his ankles as the wolves drew nearer. And you know what? He got away with it. Unscathed, unblamed. The higher-ups covered it up so well. Even the boy rotting away in the hospital, robbed of his voice and unable to cry out his injustice.
[His nails dig silently into his skin, only blunted by the sleeves of his shirt.]
... I feel the pain as though it were my own. That it had been me, torn apart and left to die under the spotlights.
[He at least has the agency to withhold saying, "And sometimes I wish it had been." It doesn't matter if he traded places with his brother or not. He would still hate Tatsumi all the same.]
Is it any wonder, then, that I would want him away from my brother?
no subject
One door closes, another opens. He'll regain his bearings with Leona one way or another.]
Fine.
[The line of his back is still straight as an arrow. There's nothing pleasant about delving into this memory, and even standing on the shore of it keeps him rigid. Why go out of the way for a magical memshare? We have reminiscent unhappiness at home.]
... The first thing you should know is that Yodaka is from the past. I've seen things he hasn't yet, things almost no one else here knows about. When I told you that bastard is dangerous, it's because I've seen what he's done, that no one else here can testify to.
[His voice does not waver, but it's distant. His gaze, even further away. HiMERU isn't in the Nest, on the couch of a house on Poppy street; he's there in the auditorium, watching; he's there on the stage, wailing. Every flying fist, every gnash of teeth—]
He incited an angry mob, looked to the person willingly at his side, and made him the sacrificial lamb. Slashing his ankles as the wolves drew nearer. And you know what? He got away with it. Unscathed, unblamed. The higher-ups covered it up so well. Even the boy rotting away in the hospital, robbed of his voice and unable to cry out his injustice.
[His nails dig silently into his skin, only blunted by the sleeves of his shirt.]
... I feel the pain as though it were my own. That it had been me, torn apart and left to die under the spotlights.
[He at least has the agency to withhold saying, "And sometimes I wish it had been." It doesn't matter if he traded places with his brother or not. He would still hate Tatsumi all the same.]
Is it any wonder, then, that I would want him away from my brother?