fujimaru | Reverie Inbox

I don't think that's weird at all.

[ her amusement matches his--they can be gently amused together, just casually vibing on the bed.

And then, a little teasingly: ]

It means you've reached enlightenment. Buddha levels of zen.

Haha, if only.

[ She sighs, deep and exaggerated, though she feels nowhere near as aggravated as she's acting. ]

If I were, it'd probably be a lot easier for me. I've just learned that there's some people where, even if I yell at them, they're not gonna change.

I think that's kind of a sort of zen all in its own...

[ that's just mumbled though, before he shrugs a bit, squeezing her hand. ]

Are there people like that here, too? Everyone seems pretty easy-going from what I've seen, but I haven't met everyone.

Mmmm... yes and no? It's not something I could just say one way or another and really mean it.

[ It's a thoughtful response, more contemplative than waffling. ]

Even people who act easy-going can be pretty stubborn. There's a metaphor somewhere about bending so you don't break.

[ there's faint, gentle amusement in response to that. He should know, since that probably describes him to a T. ]

I guess I just mean that I can't imagine you having to yell too much at people here. You're also pretty easy-going, you know?

Am I?

[ There's a beat of genuine surprise and curiosity, and she tilts her head to look at him. ]

I mean, I usually feel like I am, but also lately I feel like I've just been mostly... uh. You know.

Stressed out?

[ the amusement lingers, and just becomes more and more fond. ]

That doesn't change the kind of person you are. Besides...

[ he yawns, which turns into a sneeze mid-way. ]

... You've got some pretty good reasons to be stressed out lately.

Do I, though? I feel like it's all been selfish.

[ She's a little rueful, a little self-deprecating at the suggestion. ]

Everyone's been nice to me, and I've just been a mess.

[ his bemusement feels entirely sincere from their connection, as he tilts his head to look at her quizzically. ]

What's wrong with that?

I don't want people worrying about me.

[ She says it quietly, because there is something heavier there--the sort of weight that she can never really shed, and possibly never will. ]

Where I'm going... I'm the one who's chosen it. I know what's probably going to happen, and I've still decided to go through with all of what might happen. But I don't want people to worry, either? I'm not being coerced, and I'm not being tricked. And no one here is going to follow me, so...

[ She shrugs. This is the kind of thing bumping up against a whole huge tangle of emotions that she can't really properly articulate: serenity and resignation and wistfulness and resentment and anger and hope, all of it at once. ]

I should just be glad to have my chances here at all. It feels ungrateful that I don't. And then I just get mad when people try to be nice about it.

[ He's quiet for a long moment, processing that--though he doesn't feel surprised. If anything, there's a faint mix of emotions that he doesn't really bother to try to hold back: concern and sadness and a little bit of nostalgia, especially at the serene resignation she feels. ]

... Mm. That's fair. All of that... those are your feelings about your own situation, and nobody can really understand it like you can.

But what I meant is... I don't think there's anything wrong with being a mess. I don't think there's anything wrong with feeling the ways you do, even when they contradict or you don't feel like you should. After all... isn't that the most normal, regular old human part of you?

[ The part of Ritsuka that she's so proud of being, that she won't let people forget about in favor of trying to treat her like she's special--it's that she's a regular human, right? ]

Maybe, but... I don't feel like I'm really handling any of it that well.

[ She sighs; there's a large part of her that wants to argue, but he's not wrong. He's not wrong to point it out, or to push back, no matter how much she instinctively wants to argue. ]

And a lot of my life is pretty reliant on my ability to handle things. It feels a little like letting myself get distracted is going to end up badly back home.

[ He's quiet for a moment, eyes sliding shut as he takes a moment to try to think through his minor flu-induced fog.

But there's no hiding the way that he feels a little sad at that, sad and wistful and nostalgic. ]

... I wish you'd let yourself feel those things, without trying to push them away. Even if it's just for now, just here. Being able to do that... is something precious, I think. Especially since you have to keep yourself together back home.

Some of it is fine.

[ Some of it, but not any more. Nothing here is going to be permanent for her, and she is resigned to that. ]

It's been nice to... catch up, I guess? To get to do things I would have, if things had been normal. But I have to be ready to keep going even when it ends.

[ he squeezes her hand gently at that, understanding--and confidence in her--washing over him. ]

... You will be. Because you're Ritsuka... and that's the sort of person you are.

I don't doubt that at all.

[ She's quiet about that for a moment, grateful for his confidence, and also gently regretful. There's just so much she wishes she could say, or ask for, and none of that is something she's allowed. ]

...Thanks. I'll be doing my best.

[ He's quiet for a moment, her gentle regret sinking in for him. It... is definitely a little painful to feel that from her, because he understands. He understands what it's like to want something so simple, so understated as a normal life, and to know that with what's in your future, you just can't have it.

... He squeezes her hand gently in his own, before he brings their joined hands to rest over his chest, where his heart is. He knows she can feel his mingled fondness and sadness for her... but he can't help but demonstrate it in that way too. ]

... I know you will. That's... what makes you so precious to so many people. Because no matter what... you're always very, very Ritsuka.

Precious...

[ She's a little more bemused by the comment, though she doesn't resist when he pulls her hand in like that; all she does is roll to face him better, her head tilted. It's a strange feeling, o know he believes that, and not really feel it herself. Ritsuka is an ordinary person, with ordinary goals; being precious feels like it's for a rank above her.

There's also something wistful at hearing him, specifically, say that, but that's really neither here nor there. ]

I don't know about that. But as long as people like me enough to work with me, I'll be glad.

[ She rolls to face him, and he does the same thing, flashing her a small smile. He lets her feelings wash over him, takes a moment to process them, and then responds with peaceful contentedness to be in this position, to be able to be here. ]

... Yeah. I know.

[ Ritsuka never asks for much. Really, she never even asks for enough. ]

But I hope you can at least believe that that's how I feel. While we're like this, anyway.

[ he waggles their joined hands with a fond little smile. ]

[ Ahhhhhhh this feels like dangerous territory, and this is where Ritsuka should back off. But she can't back off either, so instead it's this: gratitude with her confusion, along with everything else. ]

...I'm glad you do. I hope you know that part.

[ this is very dangerous territory and Minato is pretty oblivious, but he's not that oblivious--so after a moment, he slowly shifts their hands so they're at least between them on the bed, cheeks a little flushed. ]

... I do. No matter what you're going through...

[ he clears his throat, and tries to push away his light fluster and embarrassment to focus on what really matters. ]

... I've never doubted that you care just as much for the rest of us.

[ danger aborted surely, this is fine ]

...Good. I don't want to make it seem like I don't--I do care about everyone here. It'd be nice if I could see you again after we leave, but...

[ But :( ]

[ he's going to very generously interpret that as her talking about everyone so that he doesn't have to dwell too hard on the implications.

(He can't hide the wistfulness on his end either--wistful and a little sad, but never regretful.) ]

Never say never. Something could happen that could bring you back here--or back to where the others are for a little bit, or something like that. For a nice reunion.

I feel like anything's possible after all that we've seen.

Anything's possible.

[ But there's so much that she has to do before she can think about that. The only thing that really gives her any comfort about being here is knowing that things are still progressing the way they should(?) at home. She's still facing down those Lostbelts, no matter how long she lingers here. ]

It'd be nice if a reunion was one of them.

This is a place shaped by our hearts and hopes and dreams... and I doubt you're the only person who will be wishing for that.

Soooo...

[ he squeezes her hand with a smile. ]

... I'm gonna go ahead and assume that one day, it'll happen.

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