[ His voice lowers a little, sounds more firm. This is no longer Yamato speaking to him as an acquaintance. This is Yamato speaking as if he were some sort of leader here -- he's not, but it's a trait he carries with him from home. He'll be the "bigger brother" figure if he has to. ]
I won't force you to stop avoiding me, but you aren't going to be able to stay away from everyone, all the time, as long as you're here. We're living in a mansion and we're being expected to work together.
[ He shakes his head. There's still traces of something gentle in how he talks. Stern lectures to people who are clearly suffering (much like he is) isn't really his style, but Mika seems very stubborn about this. He feels like this is what he needs to do. ]
You can call yourself a danger all you want, but what are you going to do about it, knowing that? Stay away? That won't be enough if you get that hungry again, with all of us in this proximity. Isolating yourself will only bring pain to the people who care for you.
[ ... ]
If you truly care about not posing a threat to us, then take the steps you need to in order to at least minimize what might happen in the future. Confide in the people who are willing to help and support you. There's at least a few people who are willing to do that for you.
The greatest pain you could ever inflict on them...is shutting them out.
( He braces against the shift in tone instinctively, a poor history with those who would tell him how to be or what to do; but despite Yamato taking on a tone of some authority, his position is not ... as unreasonable as he expects - maybe because he's used to much, much worse.
And though his nature disagrees with some of these things - the part of himself that hates himself, and hates himself - and wants to be punished - (and, quietly, desperately, wants to be loved) - it's because Yamato's suggestions are largely actionable facts that Mika stops to at least consider what he says. )
... Maybe... They might not want to feel "shut out," but...
( Ginger has explicitly offered and insisted, for one - and while Mika won't argue, it still baffles him, a little, that anyone would want to, or even enjoy... carrying the burden that he is. He grew up learning that to love others meant making yourself small.
This is all a challenge to him. And he isn't sure how he got here. He thinks - he envisioned just managing an apology, and disappearing, but this is...
(Ah, he hadn't even managed the apology yet.)
He seems to soften some, under the layers of stubbornness and self-flagellating guilt. )
... I'm just— ... tired... of hurting people.
( And he feels guilty phrasing it like that, like it's about his feelings. But maybe it is about his feelings. Maybe he is selfish, at his core. )
that, he understands deeply. He visibly lets it sink in and his demeanor softens at that, considerably. ]
...I know.
[ His words are much quieter. He was a little riled up earlier, but now, it's almost like he's looking at the mirror image of himself, and it's scary. It's scary that Mika hates himself, because Yamato loathes -- loathed? -- who he is just as much, too. He empathizes with the general position of being tired of hurting people, especially those you care about. ]
I know you are, but people don't want to see you in pain, either.
[ ... ]
I saw it that night, when people rushed to help you, and when Ginger fought for you because he cared that much. Malice is worried about you, too.
[ Man. He wishes he could give poor Mika a hug, but he's not sure if he'd like that very much. ]
You have a place here. Right here, in this manor, with the rest of us.
( He remembers, still, the orphanage; the children were younger than him, besides Yuu - he remembers the sound of their feet on the floorboards, the sound of their laughter; they found things to smile about, even with the world long ended, even beneath the broken roof of their ruined pen of a house.
And when he puts faces to their laughter, he sees blood spill from their little bodies, their lips; he sees blood on his hands, tastes blood in his mouth - even though he didn't kill them like that (or— did he?), even though he didn't do it directly (no, but didn't he? he remembers—), he might as well have (he must have), he thinks (and he can be sure). Because when he thinks back on Yamato, and Ginger, and Shinjiro, and Tatara - he remembers their taste - the sweet scent of blood - and he remembers, worst of all, Yamato's smiling face. Remembers it in the courtyard, remembers it in the common room after he'd been brought back up, drained, but acting fine.
And from these same lips that had smiled at him and and about him and had worried for him he hears that they worry for him, that he has a place here, and he can't help but wonder if that has to be false, too. How could he have worried more for Mika then, in a moment on the cusp of death? How can he welcome him now, and try to comfort him, when it would be within his rights to strike him, berate him, cast him away?
(But he recalls - that even Solomon had asked if that would be enough; could his guilt be sated, was its appetite for harm as depthless as his need for blood— more?)
(And Mika hesitates, because he knows, he thinks, that it is.)
And all this is to say is that his eyes are wet, and he rubs at the corner of them, but not at them, because tears don't fall or even really form, and he seems a lot like an animal that's been struck and doesn't know what to do with the hand extended palm-up toward him.
He struggles to find an argument that doesn't die in the slight parting of his lips. )
... It's really hard.
( Being alive. All of this. Living and hurting people; wanting to protect, and failing - by your own hand, over and over. But - no. Maybe that's not what he means - any of it. Those are all a pall he's learned how to carry, that he could trudge with his weight sinking into the earth until he's let rest, again.
The hardest thing, maybe, is accepting forgiveness.
He swallows with his gaze cast down, a lump in his throat, seeming a lot more like a kid than he's seemed this whole time. )
... I'm... sorry. I'm really sorry. I'm sorry for... everything - from then, until now... even this. Sorry.
[ Insatiable guilt is understandable, perhaps not acceptable but Yamato would be sympathetic all the same, if he knew. The guilt he's carried with him for a while has festered into something ugly. It's rooted in his heart, made from seeds of hatred and misery, and he doesn't know what he can do to dig it out and throw it in a place he doesn't have to see anymore. He thought that if he kept running, maybe he wouldn't remember it – or maybe he thought that he'd be able to make it a well-kept secret, instead.
That is not the case. Not even for people here like Mika, who have called him out on his willingness to get hurt for other people's sakes.
Forgiveness, he thinks, is something he doesn't deserve, either, and perhaps something he won't get from the people who matter most to him. That's okay, though. It just means he can see Mika through his tears a little more than usual.
Yamato gently ruffles Mika's hair, and gives him a quiet, thoughtful smile. ]
It's okay. I know it's hard.
[ He's being gentle. It's hard to scold someone who's clearly remorseful and wrestling with themself as much as Mika is. ]
I'm glad, you know, that you showed up here. You were brave for doing that. Braver than I am.
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[ His voice lowers a little, sounds more firm. This is no longer Yamato speaking to him as an acquaintance. This is Yamato speaking as if he were some sort of leader here -- he's not, but it's a trait he carries with him from home. He'll be the "bigger brother" figure if he has to. ]
I won't force you to stop avoiding me, but you aren't going to be able to stay away from everyone, all the time, as long as you're here. We're living in a mansion and we're being expected to work together.
[ He shakes his head. There's still traces of something gentle in how he talks. Stern lectures to people who are clearly suffering (much like he is) isn't really his style, but Mika seems very stubborn about this. He feels like this is what he needs to do. ]
You can call yourself a danger all you want, but what are you going to do about it, knowing that? Stay away? That won't be enough if you get that hungry again, with all of us in this proximity. Isolating yourself will only bring pain to the people who care for you.
[ ... ]
If you truly care about not posing a threat to us, then take the steps you need to in order to at least minimize what might happen in the future. Confide in the people who are willing to help and support you. There's at least a few people who are willing to do that for you.
The greatest pain you could ever inflict on them...is shutting them out.
[ ...Mitsu...is this how you feel? ]
no subject
And though his nature disagrees with some of these things - the part of himself that hates himself, and hates himself - and wants to be punished - (and, quietly, desperately, wants to be loved) - it's because Yamato's suggestions are largely actionable facts that Mika stops to at least consider what he says. )
... Maybe... They might not want to feel "shut out," but...
( Ginger has explicitly offered and insisted, for one - and while Mika won't argue, it still baffles him, a little, that anyone would want to, or even enjoy... carrying the burden that he is. He grew up learning that to love others meant making yourself small.
This is all a challenge to him. And he isn't sure how he got here. He thinks - he envisioned just managing an apology, and disappearing, but this is...
(Ah, he hadn't even managed the apology yet.)
He seems to soften some, under the layers of stubbornness and self-flagellating guilt. )
... I'm just— ... tired... of hurting people.
( And he feels guilty phrasing it like that, like it's about his feelings. But maybe it is about his feelings. Maybe he is selfish, at his core. )
no subject
that, he understands deeply. He visibly lets it sink in and his demeanor softens at that, considerably. ]
...I know.
[ His words are much quieter. He was a little riled up earlier, but now, it's almost like he's looking at the mirror image of himself, and it's scary. It's scary that Mika hates himself, because Yamato loathes -- loathed? -- who he is just as much, too. He empathizes with the general position of being tired of hurting people, especially those you care about. ]
I know you are, but people don't want to see you in pain, either.
[ ... ]
I saw it that night, when people rushed to help you, and when Ginger fought for you because he cared that much. Malice is worried about you, too.
[ Man. He wishes he could give poor Mika a hug, but he's not sure if he'd like that very much. ]
You have a place here. Right here, in this manor, with the rest of us.
no subject
And when he puts faces to their laughter, he sees blood spill from their little bodies, their lips; he sees blood on his hands, tastes blood in his mouth - even though he didn't kill them like that (or— did he?), even though he didn't do it directly (no, but didn't he? he remembers—), he might as well have (he must have), he thinks (and he can be sure). Because when he thinks back on Yamato, and Ginger, and Shinjiro, and Tatara - he remembers their taste - the sweet scent of blood - and he remembers, worst of all, Yamato's smiling face. Remembers it in the courtyard, remembers it in the common room after he'd been brought back up, drained, but acting fine.
And from these same lips that had smiled at him and and about him and had worried for him he hears that they worry for him, that he has a place here, and he can't help but wonder if that has to be false, too. How could he have worried more for Mika then, in a moment on the cusp of death? How can he welcome him now, and try to comfort him, when it would be within his rights to strike him, berate him, cast him away?
(But he recalls - that even Solomon had asked if that would be enough; could his guilt be sated, was its appetite for harm as depthless as his need for blood— more?)
(And Mika hesitates, because he knows, he thinks, that it is.)
And all this is to say is that his eyes are wet, and he rubs at the corner of them, but not at them, because tears don't fall or even really form, and he seems a lot like an animal that's been struck and doesn't know what to do with the hand extended palm-up toward him.
He struggles to find an argument that doesn't die in the slight parting of his lips. )
... It's really hard.
( Being alive. All of this. Living and hurting people; wanting to protect, and failing - by your own hand, over and over. But - no. Maybe that's not what he means - any of it. Those are all a pall he's learned how to carry, that he could trudge with his weight sinking into the earth until he's let rest, again.
The hardest thing, maybe, is accepting forgiveness.
He swallows with his gaze cast down, a lump in his throat, seeming a lot more like a kid than he's seemed this whole time. )
... I'm... sorry. I'm really sorry. I'm sorry for... everything - from then, until now... even this. Sorry.
no subject
That is not the case. Not even for people here like Mika, who have called him out on his willingness to get hurt for other people's sakes.
Forgiveness, he thinks, is something he doesn't deserve, either, and perhaps something he won't get from the people who matter most to him. That's okay, though. It just means he can see Mika through his tears a little more than usual.
Yamato gently ruffles Mika's hair, and gives him a quiet, thoughtful smile. ]
It's okay. I know it's hard.
[ He's being gentle. It's hard to scold someone who's clearly remorseful and wrestling with themself as much as Mika is. ]
I'm glad, you know, that you showed up here. You were brave for doing that. Braver than I am.