Ginger’s spent too long making things overly complicated for himself, for others. Being around Day makes him feel like he’s the more immature one of the two of them - but strangely, also more settled, more… like the adult he should be once he’d passed his mark of maturity. Calm? Whatever Day is, it’s rubbing off on him.
He doesn’t mind it at all. ]
Tell me something about you that you want me to remember. Tell me something each time we meet.
[ It feels strangely light now that he's spilled some (a lot, maybe) feelings onto someone, and Ginger has accepted them in his own way. He won't say that he doesn't get along with his colleagues, but the contrast between himself and them, with decades, centuries of work and life experience, is sometimes very stark.
But...maybe (it is too late to say maybe now, Day), it is fine to be honest with Ginger, if no one else at this time.
Like how Ginger had gently tapped the back of his hand earlier, Day's hand reaches to touch Ginger's, lightly, tentatively. ]
We can start with today. [ It is, after all, full of things he's told no one else. ] And...
[ (He isn't sure if it's his place to offer or ask this, but it doesn't...seem fair, to not do it.) ]
It doesn't have to be now, or even soon. But if you'll let me, I want to know that real part of you too. [ And he'll try to love it, as much and for as long as he can. ]
[ Ginger glances down, but doesn’t say anything about the touch. It feels like a little back and forth, perhaps. Saying without words: hey, I’m here with you. Something he does with Rum sometimes. ]
Me…?
[ He’s not opposed, exactly, just confused why Day would even want to know. Those parts aren’t worth knowing, but… fair’s fair. ]
[ It's true, but that's not that related to this statement! (It is, Day.) ]
Then...tell me something you like? So I can make up for this ride of an afternoon a little. [ When you come for drinks and instead it becomes full of feelings. ]
[ "There's nothing to make up" makes Day feel a little chagrinned. He had wanted to keep this light and fun, and while all that feelings talk was...good? In the long run, he can't help feeling a little bad, like he somehow didn't read the room right. ]
...I like them well enough. There were some back where I grew up, to help catch rats and things. [ Realities of a small, rural farming town. ] There was a little shorthair that hung around the shrine. Ain't sure how she got up there since eighty-nine steps is no joke. ...Probably gone by now, though. [ He isn't sure, but if that cat's still around, she'd be a grandma. ]
And we've got a little missy back home who likes cats, 'cept they're all, uh. Afraid of her. So she asks us to pet them for her and tell her what's it like sometimes. [ Day is forced to like cats regardless, ]
If you could see her, you'd get what I mean. [ "Cute" is adjacent to "quaint", which is how the way he talks has been described before—sometimes with affection, sometimes as a subtle, sideways cheap shot at his upbringing. He seems just a tiny bit flustered hearing Ginger say it, though.]
...I grew up in the countryside, yeah. [ So yes, he's always spoken like this. ]
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[ Simple as that.
Ginger’s spent too long making things overly complicated for himself, for others. Being around Day makes him feel like he’s the more immature one of the two of them - but strangely, also more settled, more… like the adult he should be once he’d passed his mark of maturity. Calm? Whatever Day is, it’s rubbing off on him.
He doesn’t mind it at all. ]
Tell me something about you that you want me to remember. Tell me something each time we meet.
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But...maybe (it is too late to say maybe now, Day), it is fine to be honest with Ginger, if no one else at this time.
Like how Ginger had gently tapped the back of his hand earlier, Day's hand reaches to touch Ginger's, lightly, tentatively. ]
We can start with today. [ It is, after all, full of things he's told no one else. ] And...
[ (He isn't sure if it's his place to offer or ask this, but it doesn't...seem fair, to not do it.) ]
It doesn't have to be now, or even soon. But if you'll let me, I want to know that real part of you too. [ And he'll try to love it, as much and for as long as he can. ]
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Me…?
[ He’s not opposed, exactly, just confused why Day would even want to know. Those parts aren’t worth knowing, but… fair’s fair. ]
If that’s what you want. Don’t hold back.
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I try not to ask for things I don't want, don't worry. [ Is what he says to how surprised Ginger seems. ]
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[ Their whole conversation just now. He was surprised, but it’s fine. He doesn’t think Day will judge the dirty parts of him. ]
Like I said, don’t hold back with me. At least… not with me.
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Then...tell me something you like? So I can make up for this ride of an afternoon a little. [ When you come for drinks and instead it becomes full of feelings. ]
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Day - there’s nothing to make up.
[ This isn’t a test, where he has to scramble if he’s missed anything when it comes to friendship. Ginger is a pretty easy pass, honestly.
When it comes to likes, Ginger’s first thought is of Rum. Then Mika. What he likes are just components of the people he likes. So. ]
… I like cats. Their eyes are really pretty, and their attitudes are cute. Do you like them?
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...I like them well enough. There were some back where I grew up, to help catch rats and things. [ Realities of a small, rural farming town. ] There was a little shorthair that hung around the shrine. Ain't sure how she got up there since eighty-nine steps is no joke. ...Probably gone by now, though. [ He isn't sure, but if that cat's still around, she'd be a grandma. ]
And we've got a little missy back home who likes cats, 'cept they're all, uh. Afraid of her. So she asks us to pet them for her and tell her what's it like sometimes. [ Day is forced to like cats regardless, ]
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[ That earns a laugh. ]
That’s a cute way to put it. The way you talk - is that from before you started your… job?
[ Is that something he carried over from childhood? ]
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...I grew up in the countryside, yeah. [ So yes, he's always spoken like this. ]