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Entry tags:
( CLOSED ) shoujo confessions or nothing
Who: Makoto Tachibana (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
cordated), Vietnam (hoasen), Rei Ryugazaki (theoreitical), Zack Fair (reenacted), Oona (mermaiding), Miles Edgeworth (prosecutory)
When: POST EVENT 20.
Where: Various locations around the colony.
What: Makoto's solicitations are met with varying degrees of success and failure. Life goes on.
Rating/Warning: None.
(Individual starters in the comments below!)
cordated), Vietnam (hoasen), Rei Ryugazaki (theoreitical), Zack Fair (reenacted), Oona (mermaiding), Miles Edgeworth (prosecutory)When: POST EVENT 20.
Where: Various locations around the colony.
What: Makoto's solicitations are met with varying degrees of success and failure. Life goes on.
Rating/Warning: None.
(Individual starters in the comments below!)
no subject
She tilts her head. Trouble?] No.
[Because she's honest, and it's not a trouble to her. But clearly it's troubling him.]
You are quiet. Something is wrong? Not with the date, but something else. [Because despite what anyone else might thing, Oona isn't stupid. She observes carefully, reads body language quickly, and most of the time people just don't bother to ask her about anything and assume she knows nothing because of it.
Even then it doesn't take a genius to figure out his thoughts aren't on the food or the girl in front of him.] What is it?
no subject
[ as luck would have it, makoto has a track record for ruining dates before they even reach the appetizers. with his inability to fill in the silence, it's like he's miming derision — a quiet disconsolation that speaks volumes about his offhanded capacity for ruining something good. glancing sidelong, makoto stares morosely at their silhouettes as pinned to the wall, dark and blotching, spiderwebbing the plaster. it's like this, the blackening dialectic of a friendly reunion-slash-pity party, that all the tinny issues of the heart jumble up in his throat. accepting things as they came used to be infinitely easier.
makoto brushes one hand heavy across his knee, chin ducked, gaze skimming along the curving line of the plate. ]
I made that promise that we'd all be able to swim together someday. I did mean to keep it. The offer's still open even if it's just at the pool instead of the outside like you wanted. The place you came from before all of this must've had a really wide ocean too, right?
[ thoughts abating, coalescing in the deluge. the slow comprehension. he smiles in a very slight way at the slipshod light gleaming in oona's hair, the petaled blue of her irises. ]
Haru and Rin are gone.
no subject
Haru and Rin are gone.
Her first thought is, 'gone where?' The pool? An arcade? Her second thought is, 'he means gone' and the grief hits her in a dull blow. She had been dealing with the losses--for there were always some, people just disappearing and sometimes later reappearing--with just not acknowledging it. If someone was gone from the city, she pretended they didn't exist, tried not to think about them again or talk about them or anything like that. It was easier to pretend she didn't care, easier to act like it didn't hurt or that a small hole had opened in her life.
She puts her utensils down and her hands on her lap, fingers curling and uncurling in her clothes. Her expression has gone carefully blank, eyes darting about as she processes the information.
Oona can't ignore or pretend when it's brought to her face just like that.]
But I...did not give Haru new earrings yet... Or race Rin again... [it's all she can think to say, a weak protest as if somehow the gods (or CERES) would hear her, realize their mistake, and bring them back.]
i'm so sorry for the lateness! please don't feel compelled to tag back if it's been too long
[ Well, it's out, now. No taking it off, or playing it off as a joke of cynicism or the permanence of leaving while the leaving is still good.
His admission wrung on something less than invincibility, callousness he doesn't want to come in terms with, just like the impermeable silence left after ruination when it isn't apparent just yet that he might not recover. Not entirely. The lights are slung lower than an invocation, and her eyes keep conveying that softness, bright and eclipsing, and Makoto bites so hard on the inside of his cheek that it bleeds.
The quivering unsteadiness crushes somewhere in his windpipe, and he can't seem to speak, voice jumbled, his fingers a bundle of useless nerves. His head won't stop pounding, incessant and hurtful, and the invariability of the quiet when robbed of comprehension. He sucks in a shaky breath, unable to focus on Oona's words for what they instigate — nostalgia and other tricks of memory, how everything is too loud even when they're the only two people in the world.
Apologies split and treacherously open, Makoto blinks past the sudden blur of tears swimming in his vision, the sickening lurch of his chest, like he can't breathe properly even when he's speaking, blathering on and on with no weight to his words at all. ]
A-Anyways, I ... I didn't want to see you like this, w-when I wouldn't be able t-to ... to say ...
[ A fracture warps his voice, distorting it.
His smile cracking down the center, Makoto swipes at his eyes, the fissure-break of tears steadily dripping down his cheeks. Scrubbing furiously at his face with the underside of his hands, he angles his face away, continually astonished that his fingertips keep coming away damp. ]
Ah? That's weird. There's — there's something stuck in my eye, h-haha! ... Sorry. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean ... to make it so awkward, so ... s-so don't mind me.
[ It might be karmic retribution, after all. Not in this world, or the next, or the next — ... just a question the second time around they disappear, anger and confusion throwing his inflection out of sorts.
So many small, tiny mistakes over the long run. ]
np! sorry my own delay laughs... christmas...!!
She puts her utensils down and reaches across the table for his hands.]
I, ah... Makoto... ['Come stay the night with me,' she wants to offer. The comfort of one body with another, one of the few ways she knows to offer comfort, but she's not sure if that would quite work here.]
Crying... it is fine. They are gone. Mourning and being sad is fine. Cry and let no one tell you not to. I can wait for however long it takes for you.
I am afraid I do not know how to comfort you in a way you would like, but I will do my best.