[Ryoji lets out an uncomfortable chuckle, like he’s trying to see the best in an awful situation.]
Oh, sorry. I shouldn’t be here, huh?
[Being in someone else’s bedroom has always been an invasion of privacy, but Ryoji feels it all the more now than ever. Especially when they have just met — he likes Minato, and he wants to get to know him better. But friendships are forged by communication, and spending time with each other.
Not like this, being stuffed in the same room dragged out unwillingly from one’s memories, there for everyone to see. Not like this, being given a gun and forced to kill one another.
When he ends up with a deeper bond with Minato — if he does, no matter how much Ryoji wants it — he wants it to come from Minato’s own free will.
Not like this.]
It’s a good room. I like the shelf.
[He sees a photo in the corner of his eyes. He doesn’t want to look at it.]
[ Because it is. Perhaps there's a specific reason why they find themselves here, thrust into an all-too-familiar scenario. The Ryoji present isn't one who'd spent those ten years at his side, but he nevertheless feels the same.
Minato moves to join Ryoji at the shelf. Other than the framed photograph perched on it, there are an assortment of items with no clear connection to one another scattered across its surfaces. ]
...I like this shelf too. Everything on it was a gift from someone I knew.
[ It's why he's not surprised to hear Ryoji's fond of it. He'd craved connections, increasing his understanding of humanity. Of course he'd like this microcosm of everyone who had Minato in their lives.
He lifts a hand to point at a music box that sits on a the shelf near the bed. It's set aside from the other shelf that contained the other items. ]
[He didn’t give that to Kotone, but it does feels like something he would buy. Ryoji is so fond of sights and places that he would be the kind of person to obtain trinkets and curiosities. Something unfamiliar and yet familiar all the same — that has been a reoccurring thing when it comes to Minato, he muses.]
It looks nice.
[Would it be too narcissistic to say that the other Ryoji has good taste? He’s a bit afraid to touch it, as if it would crumble if he does. It’s something precious and important to Minato, he can tell that.
[ It's a humble little thing, a wooden box with its metal comb nestled within. Minato steps forward to lift it into one of his hands. He glances at the gun in his other hand and, after a moment of silent consideration, sets the weapon down where the music box once sat. ]
I don't mind.
[ There isn't much that Minato minds when it comes to Ryoji, so long as it doesn't require fulfilling a request to take his life.
Minato holds the music box with care, tilting it to reveal the wind-up key in the bottom of it. He rotates it a few times until there's proper resistance from it, then turns to Ryoji again and opens the music box's lid.
From within the little trinket comes a gentle tune, one that's delicately plucked out by the tiny metal comb. ]
[Based on the carving and the tune, Ryoji can warrant a guess on where he got it. Kyoto, he supposes. Something to remember the place by.
So then, Ryoji wonders, how did it come to be in Minato's possession? The Ryoji in this world gave it, yes, but why? If this Ryoji is like him, then there must be an important reason. It's too precious to have been given away otherwise.
The thought alone, with all its myriad possibilities and conclusions, makes his heart ache.]
What a beautiful song.
[He says it as a whisper, afraid that his voice is too brash to break this fragile moment.
He doesn't even realize the tears forming at the corner of his eyes.]
[ Minato can picture it clearly in his head. Ryoji must have painstakingly selected it at the store in Kyoto. He must have kept it with him until he decided it was the right time to gift the item.
The sight of Ryoji's misty eyes tug at Minato's heart. He can't help but get pulled back into Ryoji's orbit. He takes a step forward, reaching up with his free hand to wipe at one of Ryoji's tears with his thumb.
He doesn't have a scarf to wrap around both their shoulders, but...
Minato retreats only to take a seat on the mattress' edge. He sets the gun aside and gestures for Ryoji to sit next to him, then places one of his silver headphones on an ear. He holds the other one out, hoping this makes his intentions clear. ]
[What a haunting reprise of their first meeting in Aldrip. Back then, all he knew was that Minato was a lonely yet familiar soul in need of company, and that was enough to spur him to action. Now their roles have been reversed, and Ryoji feels like he is in quicksand. Unable to escape the gloom encroaching upon them.
Was it the same for Minato, back then? What a terrible feeling this is.
Today he misses the city and the school even more than before.
It’s the gentle gesture of tears being wiped away that snaps him out of his reverie. There are no words needed to be said here, no doubts between them to harbor. Ryoji remains sullen as he takes upon his friend’s invitation, as the mattress sinks in to his weight. But at least the room is less cold in here.
Gently, lightly, he slips one of the headphones to his ear. And then Ryoji closes his eyes, waiting for the music to wash over him.]
[ He fiddles with the music player around his neck. The device glows softly when he thumbs the play button. An unexpectedly bright and upbeat tune comes through the headphones, playing a beat against each of their eardrums.
It's nice like this. They don't have to speak as Minato shares his music with Ryoji. Both of them can get lost in the tunes together without a word. While they'll only be able to hear half of the song, the knowledge that the other person is listening to what's in between is satisfying in itself.
Hm. Yeah. [Ryoji mumbles, as if he’s almost half asleep.] Sometimes, just to hang out. Other times it’s when either of us feel…well, like we can’t show a smile and reassure everyone that we’re okay.
[They’re similar in that respect — Ryoji and Kotone. They would both be willing to sacrifice all that they are if it ensured the happiness in others. But, as Ryoji muses, isn’t that the best way for one to live in the first place? Human happiness is precious, after all.
It’s why he feels compelled to confess —]
It’s funny, you know? [He doesn’t laugh, but there is a soft smile to his features.] It’s only with Kotone-chan that I used to let myself be like this. Like I can be vulnerable. I wonder why…
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expiationlogs2024-05-13 12:27 am
no subject
Oh, sorry. I shouldn’t be here, huh?
[Being in someone else’s bedroom has always been an invasion of privacy, but Ryoji feels it all the more now than ever. Especially when they have just met — he likes Minato, and he wants to get to know him better. But friendships are forged by communication, and spending time with each other.
Not like this, being stuffed in the same room dragged out unwillingly from one’s memories, there for everyone to see. Not like this, being given a gun and forced to kill one another.
When he ends up with a deeper bond with Minato — if he does, no matter how much Ryoji wants it — he wants it to come from Minato’s own free will.
Not like this.]
It’s a good room. I like the shelf.
[He sees a photo in the corner of his eyes. He doesn’t want to look at it.]
no subject
[ Because it is. Perhaps there's a specific reason why they find themselves here, thrust into an all-too-familiar scenario. The Ryoji present isn't one who'd spent those ten years at his side, but he nevertheless feels the same.
Minato moves to join Ryoji at the shelf. Other than the framed photograph perched on it, there are an assortment of items with no clear connection to one another scattered across its surfaces. ]
...I like this shelf too. Everything on it was a gift from someone I knew.
[ It's why he's not surprised to hear Ryoji's fond of it. He'd craved connections, increasing his understanding of humanity. Of course he'd like this microcosm of everyone who had Minato in their lives.
He lifts a hand to point at a music box that sits on a the shelf near the bed. It's set aside from the other shelf that contained the other items. ]
That music box -- you gave it to me.
no subject
It looks nice.
[Would it be too narcissistic to say that the other Ryoji has good taste? He’s a bit afraid to touch it, as if it would crumble if he does. It’s something precious and important to Minato, he can tell that.
Something that he isn’t a part of.]
Do you mind… [He gulps.] If you can you play it?
no subject
I don't mind.
[ There isn't much that Minato minds when it comes to Ryoji, so long as it doesn't require fulfilling a request to take his life.
Minato holds the music box with care, tilting it to reveal the wind-up key in the bottom of it. He rotates it a few times until there's proper resistance from it, then turns to Ryoji again and opens the music box's lid.
From within the little trinket comes a gentle tune, one that's delicately plucked out by the tiny metal comb. ]
no subject
So then, Ryoji wonders, how did it come to be in Minato's possession? The Ryoji in this world gave it, yes, but why? If this Ryoji is like him, then there must be an important reason. It's too precious to have been given away otherwise.
The thought alone, with all its myriad possibilities and conclusions, makes his heart ache.]
What a beautiful song.
[He says it as a whisper, afraid that his voice is too brash to break this fragile moment.
He doesn't even realize the tears forming at the corner of his eyes.]
no subject
[ Minato can picture it clearly in his head. Ryoji must have painstakingly selected it at the store in Kyoto. He must have kept it with him until he decided it was the right time to gift the item.
The sight of Ryoji's misty eyes tug at Minato's heart. He can't help but get pulled back into Ryoji's orbit. He takes a step forward, reaching up with his free hand to wipe at one of Ryoji's tears with his thumb.
He doesn't have a scarf to wrap around both their shoulders, but...
Minato retreats only to take a seat on the mattress' edge. He sets the gun aside and gestures for Ryoji to sit next to him, then places one of his silver headphones on an ear. He holds the other one out, hoping this makes his intentions clear. ]
no subject
Was it the same for Minato, back then? What a terrible feeling this is.
Today he misses the city and the school even more than before.
It’s the gentle gesture of tears being wiped away that snaps him out of his reverie. There are no words needed to be said here, no doubts between them to harbor. Ryoji remains sullen as he takes upon his friend’s invitation, as the mattress sinks in to his weight. But at least the room is less cold in here.
Gently, lightly, he slips one of the headphones to his ear. And then Ryoji closes his eyes, waiting for the music to wash over him.]
no subject
It's nice like this. They don't have to speak as Minato shares his music with Ryoji. Both of them can get lost in the tunes together without a word. While they'll only be able to hear half of the song, the knowledge that the other person is listening to what's in between is satisfying in itself.
While they listen, Minato finally speaks up: ]
Did you do things like this with Kotone?
no subject
[They’re similar in that respect — Ryoji and Kotone. They would both be willing to sacrifice all that they are if it ensured the happiness in others. But, as Ryoji muses, isn’t that the best way for one to live in the first place? Human happiness is precious, after all.
It’s why he feels compelled to confess —]
It’s funny, you know? [He doesn’t laugh, but there is a soft smile to his features.] It’s only with Kotone-chan that I used to let myself be like this. Like I can be vulnerable. I wonder why…