all we really wanted was a sulking party, right?

[gyakusatsu]

[SORRY, SWEET DRAGONCHILD, WE HAVE COLLECTIVELY FAILED YOU.

There are no invites to any group gatherings after the trial today. There is only solitude and sulking. Though if you come out to the great hall, there will be a platter of sandwiches. Fancy stuff, that.

But wherever your character may choose to sulk on this fine post-trial Saturday, feel free to share the pain because sharing is caring.]

Comments

[gyakusatsu]

[That kind of petulance wouldn't have rattle her ordinarily, but in the wake of this exhausting trial with yet another friend lost and an innocent child who she was fond of murdered, she does feel a touch hurt.]

Is your opinion of me so low that you think I'm asking for the sake of harassing you?

[godinsolitude]

No, I know you're concerned... and that's the problem.

[He's still not raising his head, though. He sounds.... exhausted, actually. Almost defeated, like he just wants to find a hole to hide in for awhile until he can refortify his ability to lie through his teeth.]

[gyakusatsu]

[She represses a sigh, upon hearing his tone. This isn't about her bad mood and how terrible she feels, so she needs to do a better job of not making it become about that.

But despite that, her exasperation is obvious through her attempt at a neutral tone.]

So tell me what's going on, Ayumu-kun so we don't have to keep having the same conversation.

[godinsolitude]

[He just wanted to sleep. It was childish, but he just wanted to avoid this conversation and sleep for awhile. Every time he had to deal with these symptoms, it just made everything more real.]

It isn't something you can help me with, Misora-san. If I tell you, you have to promise me you'll accept that.

[It's a hint of Ayumu's usual stubborness, but there's... something desperate at the edge of his tone. He needs this, for some reason.]

Can you do that? Because otherwise you might regret that knowledge.

[gyakusatsu]

[Immediately she doesn't like the tone of this. She doesn't like making promises not to act before she's even heard what she's not supposed to act on. It sets off multiple warning alarms in her head, though given that she was prepared to hear something grim on account of Ayumu's exhausted tone and posture, that much isn't readily apparent on her face.]

Tell me.

[... that is definitely not a promise, but.]

[godinsolitude]

[It definitely isn't, and Ayumu's shoulders tense in response. He wishes for once that Misora would take his hints for her to stop asking questions seriously. It wasn't that her care wasn't appreciated, but it just made things worse right now.

Maybe she will, if he tells her. Maybe then he can sleep, and go back to trying to survive for the next however many weeks it takes for them to stop this mess. Other people needed her attention far more than he did, unwanted as it was, and she needed to see that. Her time would be better spent trying to help Elliot or Hiyono, for a variety of reasons.]

I'm sick, Misora-san. And it's the kind of sick I won't 'get better' from. And right now, that isn't something I can afford to distract anyone with, nor is it something I can afford broadcasting to everyone else if I want to make it out of this place alive.

[gyakusatsu]

[Like so many things, it's obvious after the fact that this is what's wrong with Ayumu. Really, what else was she expecting to hear? All this evasiveness had to be for a deeper reason beyond simply being a "teenager" right? Perhaps it's because of this backgrop of weeks of concern that Misora's reaction is a touch underwhelming.]

...oh.

[Because what else is there to say about it? Though she understands Ayumu's family situation is fractured at best, people don't say things like "it's terminal" casually. Multiple sources must've confirmed something like that for Ayumu, a kid who'd lectured her on hope of all things, to have internalized it with this kind of finality.]

So... so you're...

[Dying. And she can't bring herself to say it out loud. Ridiculous - not saying the word doesn't change the facts. Her expression falters for a moment as she looks from Ayumu to the floor.

This isn't fair. This isn't right., she thinks. So many people have died here unfairly, unjustly, that to a degree it's surprising that she can feel this so strongly, so bitterly. She closes her eyes briefly lost in thought. So many innocent civilians have been brought here, so many children... and amongst them someone who was dying all this time.

The Sage has so much to answer for already that it's becoming hard to keep track of it all. But this strikes her as being so unnecessary that it goes beyond ordinary cruelty. There's just not even a word for it.

Moments pass in silence. Misora doesn't know if she feels like crying or laughing bitterly. Either way, she represses both reactions and simply reaches out to brush Ayumu's face.]

...in your own world there may not have been anything, but... there must be something here.

[Right?]

[godinsolitude]

[That that was Misora's response, after everything..... bizarrely, it brings a small smile to his face as he shifts to sit up slightly. He does look tired, painfully so, but he seems amused, too.]

...Like some sort of magic spell? That would be nice if it was the case.

[He's not discounting it, certainly. But he also didn't believe in those odds. Plenty could be done to slow the process, to be sure, but--]

My entire body will eventually break down completely in a year or two, maybe three... very likely long before I'm 20. That doesn't mean I won't fight for every bit of extra time I can get-- I don't want to die. But I do want to leave something behind, if I must die eventually.

[He reaches up to pat the back of her hand, smile soft.] But that's why I have to survive, and I have to go back. There are important people who need... a reminder. And a shield. They helped me find something I lost, so I want to help them find a way to save themselves.

[Hadn't he said something once before? 'To keep 'Hope' alive.'.]

[gyakusatsu]

[Misora stares at him as she lapses into silence. After all that he's been through, after all he's still carrying on his scrawny shoulders, he's still attempting to comfort her. Under different circumstances, she'd have said something about mothering, but this time it doesn't even occur to her to say it.

In fact, she's at a total loss of words. She's... concerned, distressed even, but tonight of all nights where she's already confronted three other people after listening to someone she considered a friend scream as he was burned alive, she just completely lacks the energy to have strong emotional reactions to anything. She's tired. Far more tired than she's been letting on with anyone, and when she tries to gather the energy to act in a way that has some semblance to how she'd act normally, there's nothing to gather.

Instead, she moves her hand away from Ayumu's face and slides it over his shoulders to give him a tight hug. She doesn't know why -- he hasn't shown any indication of needing one, not like Hiyono or Elliot -- but for just a moment, she'd like for the feeling like everything is falling apart to subside. Considering that when she blinks, she's blinking back tears perhaps it's for the better that Ayumu can't see her face either.]

...I want to see that happen for you. So....

[So.]

[godinsolitude]

[This.... this was why he didn't want to tell her, in part.

They were all overwrought today, and he knew Misora's demands would give her an answer she didn't need right now. None of them needed right now. The very knowledge was a burden she shouldn't have to carry, not here and now, not when he knew the woman actually seemed to care about him. It was too much to have her carry along with everything else, which was why he'd never breathed a word of it to her in spite of trusting her not to use it against him.

And maybe, just a little, speaking it aloud made it a little more real than even the symptoms were doing. Speaking it aloud meant acknowledging the fact that even if he survived this sadistic game, he'd only have a few years of life trapped in a hospital to look forward to and try to make the most of. Acknowledging his so far wasted life and the short, painful future that awaited him. He was always a coward at his core, and still was in some ways.

When she wraps her arms around him, he seems surprised, but he doesn't stiffen or shove her away. He didn't really need one, and if asked he'd probably say he never would be so dependent as to need such pity, and yet--

It's warm. He reaches up after a moment to return the hug, wrapping his arms around her. His grip is just a little tight, a quiet tell that he's not as unaffected as he claims to be.]

I'm sorry. And... thank you, Misora-san.

[His voice is soft and a little tight.]