[ Tatara doesn't understand Ginger's anger, but he isn't about to brush it off when he feels the sincerity coming from it. Instead, he only stares quietly for a moment before responding: ]
Like that? So you let him almost kill you. If you'd died - do you think that would help him?!
[ You would've made it worse, he doesn't say. You would've hurt yourself for nothing, hurt him for nothing. Broken the both of them and then all Ginger would have - all that would be left would be those damn candles and an empty white couch in a dark room.
He grits his teeth, trying not to just grab Tatara and shake him viciously and violently. He wants to scream at him to fucking listen. A hissed breath, and then he says, slowly: ]
We could have lost you both.
[ Sometimes, anger feels just like sadness - and it leaks into every word. ]
[ Ah. The more Ginger talks, the more he recognizes the anger. That's Kusanagi-san after the boys went and picked pointless fights. That's him when Tatara would wander the streets alone and stumbled across things he shouldn't have.
And when it settles in his chest, he leans forward, calming his own confusion in an attempt to calm Ginger in turn. He knows he can be reckless, he knows he doesn't often think these things through.
So he says, with sincerity: ] I'm sorry.
[ He lifts his arm out from under his blanket and reaches to gently place his hand on Ginger's cheek, an attempt to calm him. His hand is warm, and proof he's alive. ]
But we're okay. Sometimes, these things happen. But it won't again, not anymore.
[ He tilts his head, peering into Ginger's eyes. ]
[ Ginger hears the sincerity in his apology, but he doesn’t believe the rest. Even if Tatara thinks he means it. ]
It won’t happen like this again because next time - [ The hand can stay. Ginger won’t duck away. He’ll feel Ginger’s jaw clench from the tension, the tightness of anger. The kind of swallow you do when you don’t want to cry - not yet. ] - next time, you call for help.
[ Something sparks in Tatara's eyes at the word, and he slowly drops his hand. ]
You know...
[ He ignores being called a liar, because he's heard that before. He's heard fake, he's heard cold-hearted, he's heard empty...
But even after all the years of hearing that, and hearing it multiple times from Ginger himself no less, it doesn't get to him. Because he still cares, and that last word strikes a cold note of fear in his gut. ]
...I can make promises. But you shouldn't. You're a wizard.
[ He drops his voice—if he's dead serious about anything, it's this. ]
Don't think about promises at all.
[ He knows Ginger was asking him to make one. But in his mind, it's just better the option is gone from his vocabulary entirely. That's not a risk he wants any of them taking.
[ Oh, now he’s concerned about Ginger? Real great.
He grits out: ]
Too late. Way… too late.
[ Too late to mention this promise thing, too late to care when that night - all those limp, bloodied bodies and Mika waiting for… punishment, his own death, his own damnation -
… And Ginger who could only watch over them, worry eating him up inside even more viciously than Mika had fed on any one of them.
Tatara would have been okay with watching them shatter in small, cruel ways under the weight of his death. But he’s not okay with promises of all things?
[ There's obvious relief when he sees the star-like sugar fall into his palm. His shoulders drop, and he lowers his arm slightly; he shakes the sugar around in his hand, just to feel it, and then looks up at Ginger again.
[ If Tatara notices the signs that Ginger's losing his patience, he doesn't show it. It could be that he's totally oblivious he's moments away from being punched. For how observant he is...he doesn't notice warning signs like this very often.
Promises, though. Tatara's frown deepens. ]
I don't know. Promises, vows, pacts—I think it's all the same in the end.
[ He stares at Ginger, hoping he understands what he's trying to get at here. ]
I wish I knew how this worked in detail. But...please be careful, Ginger.
[ Ginger came here to worry about Tatara? About that— ]
His fingers flex where they rest on his knees. He suddenly understands why Rum tends to punch him so often. Honestly, he should’ve gotten punched more. ]
[ Maybe the slow blink isn't the reaction Ginger expects after telling Tatara to shut up, but it's the one he gets.
After enough pushback, he gets the hint. He can only do so much to convince a person one way or another, but he can't control them. If Ginger refuses, if Ginger fights back, then he knows that pushing him will (probably) only make it worse. He's said his piece. Whatever Ginger does next is on him. ]
...Okay.
[ Whether it's an admission of defeat or confirmation that he will be there isn't exactly clear.
Either way, he smiles, tilts his head, and thinks about why Ginger must've come to visit. ]
[ That placid smile on his face—it's hard to tell if it means anything. ]
I'm touched, though. I appreciate you checking in on me. [ After a pause, he looks at the few pieces of sugar in his palm, then tosses them into his mouth. He lets them dissolve on his tongue as he finishes his thought: ] Your sugar will help me put me back on my feet in no time!
He really, really - reallyreallyreallyreally - wants to punch him or shake him. He won’t - for now. Instead he stands and tugs Tatara’s blanket up and over his head, hands rough as he shoves the other man down after. ]
[ Tatara isn't expecting this! It happens so fast—before he knows it, he's being manhandled back into his blankets, forcibly tucked in and made to rest.
After a moment of staring at him, he chuckles softly, and melts into his couch. ]
[ Yeah, yeah, he’s literally just going to plug his ears with his fingers. He doesn’t even find himself a seat, leaning back against the nearest wall. He won’t stay that long anyway.
Until he sees Tatara resting with his own mismatched eyes. That’s it. That’s all. ]
[ For a few moments afterwards, Tatara just peeks out from the top of his blankets at Ginger. Even though he gets no acknowledgement in return, he smiles up at him with his eyes.
Buuut, he'll do as he's told. Soon his eyes slip shut, and it's not long before he's breathing quietly, slowly, in his sleep. ]
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Mika's my charge. It's my job to help him.
[ A beat. ]
I told Malice the same thing.
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[ You would've made it worse, he doesn't say. You would've hurt yourself for nothing, hurt him for nothing. Broken the both of them and then all Ginger would have - all that would be left would be those damn candles and an empty white couch in a dark room.
He grits his teeth, trying not to just grab Tatara and shake him viciously and violently. He wants to scream at him to fucking listen. A hissed breath, and then he says, slowly: ]
We could have lost you both.
[ Sometimes, anger feels just like sadness - and it leaks into every word. ]
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And when it settles in his chest, he leans forward, calming his own confusion in an attempt to calm Ginger in turn. He knows he can be reckless, he knows he doesn't often think these things through.
So he says, with sincerity: ] I'm sorry.
[ He lifts his arm out from under his blanket and reaches to gently place his hand on Ginger's cheek, an attempt to calm him. His hand is warm, and proof he's alive. ]
But we're okay. Sometimes, these things happen. But it won't again, not anymore.
[ He tilts his head, peering into Ginger's eyes. ]
Okay?
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[ Ginger hears the sincerity in his apology, but he doesn’t believe the rest. Even if Tatara thinks he means it. ]
It won’t happen like this again because next time - [ The hand can stay. Ginger won’t duck away. He’ll feel Ginger’s jaw clench from the tension, the tightness of anger. The kind of swallow you do when you don’t want to cry - not yet. ] - next time, you call for help.
You can’t just say okay. It has to be a promise.
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You know...
[ He ignores being called a liar, because he's heard that before. He's heard fake, he's heard cold-hearted, he's heard empty...
But even after all the years of hearing that, and hearing it multiple times from Ginger himself no less, it doesn't get to him. Because he still cares, and that last word strikes a cold note of fear in his gut. ]
...I can make promises. But you shouldn't. You're a wizard.
[ He drops his voice—if he's dead serious about anything, it's this. ]
Don't think about promises at all.
[ He knows Ginger was asking him to make one. But in his mind, it's just better the option is gone from his vocabulary entirely. That's not a risk he wants any of them taking.
His tone speaks for him: this is an order. ]
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He grits out: ]
Too late. Way… too late.
[ Too late to mention this promise thing, too late to care when that night - all those limp, bloodied bodies and Mika waiting for… punishment, his own death, his own damnation -
… And Ginger who could only watch over them, worry eating him up inside even more viciously than Mika had fed on any one of them.
Tatara would have been okay with watching them shatter in small, cruel ways under the weight of his death. But he’s not okay with promises of all things?
God. Hell. ]
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You didn't make a promise, did you?
[ oh no. maybe he should have included this in his opening speech...
He holds out his hand again, palm up. ]
Sugar.
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[ He puts his hand there, a little distrustful. Shake? ]
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[ He pulls his hand back, then puts it atop Ginger's, back to back, palm up again. ]
Make your sugar. Now.
[ Put it in his hand! ]
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An unsure glance, but he nods after a moment. ]
Tell All One’s Heart.
[ Hesitance brings about only a couple pieces of konpeito. They fall into Tatara’s palm. ]
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He hasn't lost his magic, which is a good sign. ]
What promise did you make?
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And he thinks - he knows -
… if Tatara keeps looking at him like he’s concerned, like he’s relieved, Ginger’s gonna punch him. He looks away, jaw tight. ]
Promises. [ More than one, definitely. ] … Depends. Does it only count if I used the word?
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Promises, though. Tatara's frown deepens. ]
I don't know. Promises, vows, pacts—I think it's all the same in the end.
[ He stares at Ginger, hoping he understands what he's trying to get at here. ]
I wish I knew how this worked in detail. But...please be careful, Ginger.
[ Ginger came here to worry about Tatara? About that— ]
/2
His fingers flex where they rest on his knees. He suddenly understands why Rum tends to punch him so often. Honestly, he should’ve gotten punched more. ]
Shut up.
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[ And he is not planning on breaking any of them. ]
And if you want me to stop making promises, you better be there stop me yourself.
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After enough pushback, he gets the hint. He can only do so much to convince a person one way or another, but he can't control them. If Ginger refuses, if Ginger fights back, then he knows that pushing him will (probably) only make it worse. He's said his piece. Whatever Ginger does next is on him. ]
...Okay.
[ Whether it's an admission of defeat or confirmation that he will be there isn't exactly clear.
Either way, he smiles, tilts his head, and thinks about why Ginger must've come to visit. ]
Were you worried about me?
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Are you seriously asking that.
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Yeah.
[ That placid smile on his face—it's hard to tell if it means anything. ]
I'm touched, though. I appreciate you checking in on me. [ After a pause, he looks at the few pieces of sugar in his palm, then tosses them into his mouth. He lets them dissolve on his tongue as he finishes his thought: ] Your sugar will help me put me back on my feet in no time!
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[ Ginger can’t with this man.
He really, really - reallyreallyreallyreally - wants to punch him or shake him. He won’t - for now. Instead he stands and tugs Tatara’s blanket up and over his head, hands rough as he shoves the other man down after. ]
So. Rest. I’m gonna stay here until you sleep.
[ He doesn’t trust Tatara. ]
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[ Tatara isn't expecting this! It happens so fast—before he knows it, he's being manhandled back into his blankets, forcibly tucked in and made to rest.
After a moment of staring at him, he chuckles softly, and melts into his couch. ]
You're so kind, Ginger.
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Until he sees Tatara resting with his own mismatched eyes. That’s it. That’s all. ]
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Buuut, he'll do as he's told. Soon his eyes slip shut, and it's not long before he's breathing quietly, slowly, in his sleep. ]