[ yeah beau is strong as SHIT sometimes you are a monk and ichiro is only a teenage boy, even if he's strong for one! he struggles a little, pissed, but is now held in place. ]
Every fucking time I've tried to do something here, it's gone wrong. Couldn't win that fucking auction, can't figure out a fucking thing about this place no matter how hard I try to think about it because I'm not smart enough to keep up with anybody, couldn't keep Hope from jumping out of a fucking window, can't keep Iris from - anything, couldn't help Lucretia-san on Thursday -- I haven't been able to do shit! It's always like this, the only fucking thing I've ever been any good at is breaking shit and I can't even do that!
[ finally, at the end, his voice cracks -- the anger breaks, for a second, and he jerks his head away, taking a loud, unhappy breath, and this time, he's quieter -- still laced with fury, but that pain is even more obvious, now as he finishes - ] How the fuck am I supposed to help people here, Beau? Do shitty jokes on the marquee? Make food? That's it?
[ the way he got pushed away on saturday and sunday was a fissure in a long series of pressures that seem to have finally cracked open today, but it reminded him so much of kuko that it terrified him. more than he was ever willing to admit or show - having someone suddenly turn their back like that with nothing he could do about it was so fucking viscerally familiar that it was like being punched in the gut. and then not being able to help solve the problem - as someone else was able to, as here, someone else has always been able to - was like a second one. this time, the reason and grief for it was obvious, palpable, but it still...
...every time he's ever reached out to someone else to rely on - an older figure, especially, but a friend, too - it's slapped him in the face. every time. ]
second of all, she just fucking punches him in the arm, like really hard.]
Do you understand that you're setting goals for yourself that are impossible? [she asks, a little more calmly. she's angry, but - it's more controlled.] You think any one of us is going to be able to figure this out on our own? You think anybody could've helped Lucretia better than you? You think it's only your responsibility to look after Iris?
You help by being you. You do what you can, where you can, and if you can't manage it, you fucking talk to your friends when you're feeling hopeless.
I can't read your mind, Ichiro, you have to tell me why you're angry or whatever the fuck it is at me.
the punch gets him to shut the fuck up, at least, reaching up and grabbing his arm afterwards and - he listens, too. almost shaking, white knuckling his sleeve. he's never known how to deal with any of his bad emotions, because they always turn into this, a vortex of nearly uncontrollable fury that threatens to grab him by the throat and drag him back into being mozuku's dog every time. at home, his brothers keep him level - even when he loses his temper at them, he's able to bring it back for them, but it's been six weeks and he misses them so badly it hurts. the last he saw of jiro or saburo was that stupid illusion in that stupid field trip and then he forgot them.
his eyes feel hot, and there's what feels like a lump gathering in his throat behind his adam's apple - what is he, a little kid? and he manages to shut the fuck up and try and stop.
he takes a deep, unsteady breath, pinches his eyes shut. ] Sorry. [ it's a little clipped. he's trying.
you help by being you. what the fuck has he done? what has he been gone for? all of ikebukuro was counting on him at home. his brothers were counting on him. and now, here, he has to be strong. i am strong.
is he?
the second one comes out a little more broken. ] Sorry.
I'm not - I'm not mad at you - [ god, fuck, he can't lose another one (wouldn't it be easier, just to push her away? to not fall into this again?)
whatever else he has to say doesn't quite make it out, beyond the lump in his throat. he loosens his grip on his own arm to just reach up and wipe his forearm across his face. ]
Don't be sorry. Don't fucking say sorry to me, I don't need it.
[he wipes his forearm across his face, and she reaches up and wraps her arms around his shoulders - fucking tall dumb teenagers she's so sick of it - before tugging him down to hug him. she slides her fingers into his hair and holds him.]
S'okay. [she - doesn't know what to do, but this feels like what maybe caduceus would do, and she's always trying to emulate him, even if she's not as wise as he is. she thinks maybe this is what molly would do, too. her moral backbones, funny as it is.] Lean on me. I'm here.
for a minute he's just really, really tense. like he's not sure what's happening, really? he's frozen in place, hands hovering a little.
and then he just bursts into tears like a child. big, huge, baby sobs that wrack his entire body, enough to send his shoulders trembling as he just bows over.
thank you this is like the third time i've used this icon now and i think its been on you every time! terrible. ]
beau's expecting it, though - he breaks, and she just holds him harder. she tugs him down with her to the floor so they can sit, so she can tuck his head under her chin, so she can run her fingers through his hair and rub his back. she's quiet - doesn't shhh or murmur, but doesn't urge him to stop or quiet down, either.
this has been a long time coming. there's always been a lot of pressure on ichiro's shoulders, one way or another, but this place has done an especially good job of making it worse. it felt like no matter what method he turned to, there was just nothing he could do to help, in any form, and for someone who basically lives to defend justice, to help other people, it's been killing him. wrong answers. wrong theories. loss, hurt, pain. lost memories, regained memories - suffering on every corner and no way to stop it. trying to put his mind to it when he couldn't put his body to it failed him, too.
mozuku said once that ichiro was quick to respond to things with violence, and that was the best thing about him, and for a while, that was who he was. even now, he struggles against being that person, but it's so hard not to be. all he's ever been able to do is hurt to help, and here, he's not been able to find a way out of that vicious cycle in ways that have been satisfying. nothing tethering him to home, nothing holding him back - it's just been a constant state of suffering, pretty much since they came back from their little field trip, and all of its coming out now.
at least, maybe with this, some of the tension will finally break. maybe it'll be over.
he takes a heaving, deep breath as the sobs stop, finally, petering out into nothing, and for a moment, he just stays still, head down, trembling just a little as he takes a couple more gulps in of air and tries to calm himself down properly.
sometimes, it's easy to forget - for himself, and for others - that ichiro's only nineteen. ]
[this is why she called herself a babysitter, buddy.
but she doesn't move, and she doesn't waver. he loses it, breaks entirely, and she eventually just rocks him a little, instinctively. beau's not good at comforting words, never has been, but she can do this much. she's learned to stand and offer her hand to the nein, and so it's easy to do here, to take on the brunt of whatever pain he's feeling and try to soothe it.
and when he finally starts to calm, she loosens her grip just enough to let him be comfortable.]
You haven't failed anybody. [she says, low and rough.] Especially not me. You were a big part of the reason that I didn't go off the deep end after Molly died.
[she presses a kiss to the side of his head.] Stop trying to take on so much so much responsibility. You're one person, and beating the shit out of yourself for things you can't control is just going to make you miserable. I don't wanna see you miserable, babe. I really don't.
when beau loosens her grip, he pulls back fully, feeling - a little embarrassed, but mostly just empty. this was a break he probably needed more than he was ever going to really let on, and ichiro rubs his eyes, turning his head away a little, though he's listening to what she's saying.
he's not usually a big emotional breakdown guy, because, like always, he can handle it. he's always been able to handle it - well. at home, he could. here, powerless and falling behind, every new stone falling into his arms has finally knocked him down. it makes him feel like a child, acting like this. ]
... I can't just sit by. [ is what he says, finally. it's quieter, now, voice husky with shed tears. and it's clear he's not trying to discount what beau said, either, because that is important, and he doesn't want to call it nothing, but... did he really help? a week later, it all fell apart again, and he almost lost something in a way that struck too close to home.
he knows he's been able to comfort others when they were suffering, and give vouchers to help here and there, but it's just not enough. it never feels like enough. not for ikebukuro's defender of justice, who's not that smart, who's too young to be considered grown by the older crowd, too old to be young. he's just been stuck in the middle, and slipping slowly downwards ever since. it's been such a struggle, trying to fight off his own expectations - and the ones that have always been placed on him to be strong. on the flip side of his own motto comes mozuku's words - your first reaction was violence - words that've stuck with him every day of his life.
he's not a healer. he's not a support. ichiro's always been a bleeder, and right now, he feels like he's just stuck behind plexiglass, watching the world around him fight hard for what matters to them. ]
I'm not trying to take on too much, I just...
[ he's just used to being strong. when he looks up at beau again, he just looks sort of desperately upset. brows knit together, eyes a little wide, heart rending. aching. ] I just want to do something. I can't keep up.
[he pulls back, but she reaches up to card her fingers through his hair, pushing it out of his face.]
Why do you think you haven't been doing something? What do you think the rest of us are doing that you aren't? You're part of the big voices during trial, you're helping us buy information, you're around every time Winter talks about what's going on, you make sure all the kids have someone during execution, that they're not fighting or doing stupid shit - what, exactly, do you think you're not doing?
I don't understand why you think you're sitting by when you haven't stopped fucking moving since the start.
[ because people are dying. because he can't protect his own. because it's just not enough. ]
Being loud doesn't count when you're wrong.
[ the words don't come out petulant, really, but... it's definitely something he's feeling like is true. i'm not as smart as you guys - a theory that has proven itself reasonably true every week.
there's a pause, here, and he curls his hands into loose fists, again, staring down at his scarred over knuckles. ]
...I said something to Kon the other day, that I shouldn't have. And Iris - that too. I don't...I don't want to hurt people and I keep fucking that up, too.
[ at least it's only emotional hurt and not like MURDER HURT but you know. hurting other people on accident is something he's actively tried so hard not to do, but here, it feels like he's regressing back to when he couldn't afford to care. cause the least possible damage, maybe, but always, always cause some. ]
You - haven't been? You haven't been wrong. You can't say you're wrong if none of us fucking know what's right, dude.
[she reaches over to rest her hands on top of his.]
Look. Take it from me, someone who can't go a day without fucking something up. [beau says, firmly.] It doesn't matter what you said to them. They're not gonna hold it against you, so why are you beating yourself up with it?
[ he's not like, actively fighting this lecture or the hand rests or anything, now, having cooled down at least a little bit. ]
We're not figuring anything out, that's part of the problem. Normally... I'm not - like, I don't know shit about what's going on at home, either, half of the time, but that doesn't mean that I'm not trying to fix it, or that there aren't other things that I'm doing to help defend people, or keep people from dying somehow. And here, it's - like what good am I? What am I doing? I've got, what, a hug and a shitty joke? Throwing vouchers? I'm about to be out of those, too. I don't have any abilities that can do anything to help anyone on my own.
[ not the brains. not the magical abilities, not even the mic skills. so... it'd be nice, just once, to figure something out. every time it feels like he's onto something, it's gone. every time they get close to some kind of answer, this place slaps back and punishes them for it, too. and part of that hope of being right is what caused the issue with kon, too.
he shakes his head, though and says, quietly, voice soft, pained. ] It matters to me.
... Thought you were gonna shove me off too. I thought maybe - maybe if Kon and I won the auction, I'd be able to do something right, and keep...
[ and keep from losing someone he cared about in the blink of an eye, again.
if he'd done something better to help adora. if he'd stopped beau from throwing a truth punch. if he'd -- if he'd just done something -
it didn't matter, though. he knows it didn't, and logically, doesn't care that it didn't - what he said to beau on monday was true, that he was genuinely thrilled for them, but the terror of the idea of losing beau (and then losing kon, and then losing iris, too) had been too much, and the nasty poison of bad thoughts broke in.
it's always been a lot easier to go it alone. just him and his brothers, even if his brothers hated him. he was starting to fall back into that mindset again - that he needed to just sit back and shut up and keep his head down and do what he was supposed to do instead of fight back.
he shuts his mouth again after that, and looks away, ashamed, almost. quietly angry at himself. ] ... sorry.
You're the one who got the goggles enchanted, not me. [she points out, and then:] Stop apologizing. I already said I don't want to hear it. You have fuck-all to apologize for.
[she's not - good at this. she can never find the right words. she's not caduceus, she's not fjord, she's not caleb - the people who know what to say. but - it's a sticking point. she always fucks up, even when she's trying to protect other people from herself. thought you were gonna shove me off too - and the thing is, she probably was. not because of what he did or didn't do, but because she didn't want to inflict herself on anybody. she knows how she is. she was going to grab caleb, and hide, because that was easier. because it would've been easier for everybody if they'd distanced themselves.]
I'm sorry.
[she says, finally, because she doesn't know what else to do. she can't convince him if he won't believe her.]
You didn't do anything wrong. It's not a failing on your part that I was upset and not thinking straight.
... yeah, but, I should've known that it was nothing to be that freaked about, I could've just given you some space, but I couldn't back off, so I'm - [ ... am sorry he starts to say, again, and then stops himself. no more apologies.
he shakes his head, running his fingers through his bangs, and exhales, loudly, shoulders dropping, then, mutters: ]
...this is stupid.
[ because it is stupid. all of it is stupid. he's not good at this, either. but maybe it's the first sign of a normal ichiro, too, because at least he can admit that it's really fucking stupid and he's really fucking tired of it. ]
[ IT'S NOT FINE wow the caretaker urge takes over instantly, and he ends up relaxing his hands a little where hers were on top of his, covering the one that stays down with his own. can't help it. take care of others, born in his blood. this seems to help his general mood, a little bit, too, though he glances away from her.
and there's a pause before he shakes his head. ]
...nah. She's just... she's been through some really bad shit, 's all. I was more worried I was hurting her than anything.
[ ok now he really looks like a scolded puppy, ducking his head, shoulders hunching up. ]
I know... the thing she went through was related, though, and - like, someone fucked her up in the worst kind of way. [ ichiro doesn't want to get into it too much - it's not his story to tell - but he will stress that Shit Was Really Fucked Up. ]
...So, when she said something, I thought maybe I'd been - I dunno. Reminding her of that, or something. I don't wanna do that. [ i don't want to hurt people. ] She just said... she didn't want to hurt me.
[ like she would?? do that somehow?? crazy. hurting is worth it, sometimes, though. even if he's been having a shitty time - he'd rather be hurt by someone he cares about on the path to fixing it instead of just left behind. there's a lesson he needs to learn here about talking about his problems? he's starting to learn it. ] ... We talked about it, and I think we're fine, but I dunno.
I think you should trust her if she seems fine about it. Iris doesn't seem like the sort of person that's gonna let you or anybody get away with treating her in a way she doesn't want to be treated.
[her fingers sort of twitch.]
I get that you're worried, though. It's not bad to be. Just don't beat yourself up over it.
puts his face in his hand for a second and groans. ] That's the problem, too, I don't know how she wants to be treated, cause she told me that she liked me, too?
[ this week has really been
so much? it really takes a lot of pressure to crack ichiro. he, in a term used by xie lian, is not sure whether to laugh or to cry. at least it probably can't get much worse?? we're down to teenage levels of problems instead of murdergame related problems so there's that. he's feeling a little better with that off of his chest.... beau was the right person to come talk to about this, even if it was involuntary (probably because it was involuntary?) ]
[why are teenagers like this!!!! iris is not a teenager, but listen. also don't look at her or her own romantic issues.]
Okay, like - like like? Or. Is she stringing you along? What the fuck is going on here. I don't see how you can have a conversation like "wow I like you!" and then not, like. Be dating.
[ HE DOESN'T KNOW EITHER STOP THIS IS NOT HIS FAULT also dont think we're not getting to otome young lady
anyway, with his face still in his hands: ]
She said - Beau, she had to like, pour a shot even to talk about it. I didn't even know she knew. [ it was like visible from the moon but okay go off i guess ] I think she "it's-not-you-it's-me"'d me? I'm pretty sure that's what happened, which is fine, I'm way more about her being comfortable and I'm not an ass, and so that was totally fine. I'm glad I wasn't, like, traumatizing her or anything like that, so I figured it'd be cool, we were fine, I'd try to... be more subtle, I guess - she like, backed off where she was touching my hand, too, so, boundary set, totally got the message, crystal clear.
...but then like five minutes later, she told me "it's not like I don't want to be with you" and I have no idea what to do at all.
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Every fucking time I've tried to do something here, it's gone wrong. Couldn't win that fucking auction, can't figure out a fucking thing about this place no matter how hard I try to think about it because I'm not smart enough to keep up with anybody, couldn't keep Hope from jumping out of a fucking window, can't keep Iris from - anything, couldn't help Lucretia-san on Thursday -- I haven't been able to do shit! It's always like this, the only fucking thing I've ever been any good at is breaking shit and I can't even do that!
[ finally, at the end, his voice cracks -- the anger breaks, for a second, and he jerks his head away, taking a loud, unhappy breath, and this time, he's quieter -- still laced with fury, but that pain is even more obvious, now as he finishes - ] How the fuck am I supposed to help people here, Beau? Do shitty jokes on the marquee? Make food? That's it?
[ the way he got pushed away on saturday and sunday was a fissure in a long series of pressures that seem to have finally cracked open today, but it reminded him so much of kuko that it terrified him. more than he was ever willing to admit or show - having someone suddenly turn their back like that with nothing he could do about it was so fucking viscerally familiar that it was like being punched in the gut. and then not being able to help solve the problem - as someone else was able to, as here, someone else has always been able to - was like a second one. this time, the reason and grief for it was obvious, palpable, but it still...
...every time he's ever reached out to someone else to rely on - an older figure, especially, but a friend, too - it's slapped him in the face. every time. ]
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second of all, she just fucking punches him in the arm, like really hard.]
Do you understand that you're setting goals for yourself that are impossible? [she asks, a little more calmly. she's angry, but - it's more controlled.] You think any one of us is going to be able to figure this out on our own? You think anybody could've helped Lucretia better than you? You think it's only your responsibility to look after Iris?
You help by being you. You do what you can, where you can, and if you can't manage it, you fucking talk to your friends when you're feeling hopeless.
I can't read your mind, Ichiro, you have to tell me why you're angry or whatever the fuck it is at me.
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the punch gets him to shut the fuck up, at least, reaching up and grabbing his arm afterwards and - he listens, too. almost shaking, white knuckling his sleeve. he's never known how to deal with any of his bad emotions, because they always turn into this, a vortex of nearly uncontrollable fury that threatens to grab him by the throat and drag him back into being mozuku's dog every time. at home, his brothers keep him level - even when he loses his temper at them, he's able to bring it back for them, but it's been six weeks and he misses them so badly it hurts. the last he saw of jiro or saburo was that stupid illusion in that stupid field trip and then he forgot them.
his eyes feel hot, and there's what feels like a lump gathering in his throat behind his adam's apple - what is he, a little kid? and he manages to shut the fuck up and try and stop.
he takes a deep, unsteady breath, pinches his eyes shut. ] Sorry. [ it's a little clipped. he's trying.
you help by being you. what the fuck has he done? what has he been gone for? all of ikebukuro was counting on him at home. his brothers were counting on him. and now, here, he has to be strong. i am strong.
is he?
the second one comes out a little more broken. ] Sorry.
I'm not - I'm not mad at you - [ god, fuck, he can't lose another one (wouldn't it be easier, just to push her away? to not fall into this again?)
whatever else he has to say doesn't quite make it out, beyond the lump in his throat. he loosens his grip on his own arm to just reach up and wipe his forearm across his face. ]
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[he wipes his forearm across his face, and she reaches up and wraps her arms around his shoulders - fucking tall dumb teenagers she's so sick of it - before tugging him down to hug him. she slides her fingers into his hair and holds him.]
S'okay. [she - doesn't know what to do, but this feels like what maybe caduceus would do, and she's always trying to emulate him, even if she's not as wise as he is. she thinks maybe this is what molly would do, too. her moral backbones, funny as it is.] Lean on me. I'm here.
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for a minute he's just really, really tense. like he's not sure what's happening, really? he's frozen in place, hands hovering a little.
and then he just bursts into tears like a child. big, huge, baby sobs that wrack his entire body, enough to send his shoulders trembling as he just bows over.
thank you this is like the third time i've used this icon now and i think its been on you every time! terrible. ]
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beau's expecting it, though - he breaks, and she just holds him harder. she tugs him down with her to the floor so they can sit, so she can tuck his head under her chin, so she can run her fingers through his hair and rub his back. she's quiet - doesn't shhh or murmur, but doesn't urge him to stop or quiet down, either.
she'll be here as long as he needs.]
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this has been a long time coming. there's always been a lot of pressure on ichiro's shoulders, one way or another, but this place has done an especially good job of making it worse. it felt like no matter what method he turned to, there was just nothing he could do to help, in any form, and for someone who basically lives to defend justice, to help other people, it's been killing him. wrong answers. wrong theories. loss, hurt, pain. lost memories, regained memories - suffering on every corner and no way to stop it. trying to put his mind to it when he couldn't put his body to it failed him, too.
mozuku said once that ichiro was quick to respond to things with violence, and that was the best thing about him, and for a while, that was who he was. even now, he struggles against being that person, but it's so hard not to be. all he's ever been able to do is hurt to help, and here, he's not been able to find a way out of that vicious cycle in ways that have been satisfying. nothing tethering him to home, nothing holding him back - it's just been a constant state of suffering, pretty much since they came back from their little field trip, and all of its coming out now.
at least, maybe with this, some of the tension will finally break. maybe it'll be over.
he takes a heaving, deep breath as the sobs stop, finally, petering out into nothing, and for a moment, he just stays still, head down, trembling just a little as he takes a couple more gulps in of air and tries to calm himself down properly.
sometimes, it's easy to forget - for himself, and for others - that ichiro's only nineteen. ]
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but she doesn't move, and she doesn't waver. he loses it, breaks entirely, and she eventually just rocks him a little, instinctively. beau's not good at comforting words, never has been, but she can do this much. she's learned to stand and offer her hand to the nein, and so it's easy to do here, to take on the brunt of whatever pain he's feeling and try to soothe it.
and when he finally starts to calm, she loosens her grip just enough to let him be comfortable.]
You haven't failed anybody. [she says, low and rough.] Especially not me. You were a big part of the reason that I didn't go off the deep end after Molly died.
[she presses a kiss to the side of his head.] Stop trying to take on so much so much responsibility. You're one person, and beating the shit out of yourself for things you can't control is just going to make you miserable. I don't wanna see you miserable, babe. I really don't.
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when beau loosens her grip, he pulls back fully, feeling - a little embarrassed, but mostly just empty. this was a break he probably needed more than he was ever going to really let on, and ichiro rubs his eyes, turning his head away a little, though he's listening to what she's saying.
he's not usually a big emotional breakdown guy, because, like always, he can handle it. he's always been able to handle it - well. at home, he could. here, powerless and falling behind, every new stone falling into his arms has finally knocked him down. it makes him feel like a child, acting like this. ]
... I can't just sit by. [ is what he says, finally. it's quieter, now, voice husky with shed tears. and it's clear he's not trying to discount what beau said, either, because that is important, and he doesn't want to call it nothing, but... did he really help? a week later, it all fell apart again, and he almost lost something in a way that struck too close to home.
he knows he's been able to comfort others when they were suffering, and give vouchers to help here and there, but it's just not enough. it never feels like enough. not for ikebukuro's defender of justice, who's not that smart, who's too young to be considered grown by the older crowd, too old to be young. he's just been stuck in the middle, and slipping slowly downwards ever since. it's been such a struggle, trying to fight off his own expectations - and the ones that have always been placed on him to be strong. on the flip side of his own motto comes mozuku's words - your first reaction was violence - words that've stuck with him every day of his life.
he's not a healer. he's not a support. ichiro's always been a bleeder, and right now, he feels like he's just stuck behind plexiglass, watching the world around him fight hard for what matters to them. ]
I'm not trying to take on too much, I just...
[ he's just used to being strong. when he looks up at beau again, he just looks sort of desperately upset. brows knit together, eyes a little wide, heart rending. aching. ] I just want to do something. I can't keep up.
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Why do you think you haven't been doing something? What do you think the rest of us are doing that you aren't? You're part of the big voices during trial, you're helping us buy information, you're around every time Winter talks about what's going on, you make sure all the kids have someone during execution, that they're not fighting or doing stupid shit - what, exactly, do you think you're not doing?
I don't understand why you think you're sitting by when you haven't stopped fucking moving since the start.
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Being loud doesn't count when you're wrong.
[ the words don't come out petulant, really, but... it's definitely something he's feeling like is true. i'm not as smart as you guys - a theory that has proven itself reasonably true every week.
there's a pause, here, and he curls his hands into loose fists, again, staring down at his scarred over knuckles. ]
...I said something to Kon the other day, that I shouldn't have. And Iris - that too. I don't...I don't want to hurt people and I keep fucking that up, too.
[ at least it's only emotional hurt and not like MURDER HURT but you know. hurting other people on accident is something he's actively tried so hard not to do, but here, it feels like he's regressing back to when he couldn't afford to care. cause the least possible damage, maybe, but always, always cause some. ]
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[she reaches over to rest her hands on top of his.]
Look. Take it from me, someone who can't go a day without fucking something up. [beau says, firmly.] It doesn't matter what you said to them. They're not gonna hold it against you, so why are you beating yourself up with it?
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We're not figuring anything out, that's part of the problem. Normally... I'm not - like, I don't know shit about what's going on at home, either, half of the time, but that doesn't mean that I'm not trying to fix it, or that there aren't other things that I'm doing to help defend people, or keep people from dying somehow. And here, it's - like what good am I? What am I doing? I've got, what, a hug and a shitty joke? Throwing vouchers? I'm about to be out of those, too. I don't have any abilities that can do anything to help anyone on my own.
[ not the brains. not the magical abilities, not even the mic skills. so... it'd be nice, just once, to figure something out. every time it feels like he's onto something, it's gone. every time they get close to some kind of answer, this place slaps back and punishes them for it, too. and part of that hope of being right is what caused the issue with kon, too.
he shakes his head, though and says, quietly, voice soft, pained. ] It matters to me.
... Thought you were gonna shove me off too. I thought maybe - maybe if Kon and I won the auction, I'd be able to do something right, and keep...
[ and keep from losing someone he cared about in the blink of an eye, again.
if he'd done something better to help adora. if he'd stopped beau from throwing a truth punch. if he'd -- if he'd just done something -
it didn't matter, though. he knows it didn't, and logically, doesn't care that it didn't - what he said to beau on monday was true, that he was genuinely thrilled for them, but the terror of the idea of losing beau (and then losing kon, and then losing iris, too) had been too much, and the nasty poison of bad thoughts broke in.
it's always been a lot easier to go it alone. just him and his brothers, even if his brothers hated him. he was starting to fall back into that mindset again - that he needed to just sit back and shut up and keep his head down and do what he was supposed to do instead of fight back.
he shuts his mouth again after that, and looks away, ashamed, almost. quietly angry at himself. ] ... sorry.
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[she's not - good at this. she can never find the right words. she's not caduceus, she's not fjord, she's not caleb - the people who know what to say. but - it's a sticking point. she always fucks up, even when she's trying to protect other people from herself. thought you were gonna shove me off too - and the thing is, she probably was. not because of what he did or didn't do, but because she didn't want to inflict herself on anybody. she knows how she is. she was going to grab caleb, and hide, because that was easier. because it would've been easier for everybody if they'd distanced themselves.]
I'm sorry.
[she says, finally, because she doesn't know what else to do. she can't convince him if he won't believe her.]
You didn't do anything wrong. It's not a failing on your part that I was upset and not thinking straight.
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he shakes his head, running his fingers through his bangs, and exhales, loudly, shoulders dropping, then, mutters: ]
...this is stupid.
[ because it is stupid. all of it is stupid. he's not good at this, either. but maybe it's the first sign of a normal ichiro, too, because at least he can admit that it's really fucking stupid and he's really fucking tired of it. ]
Iris figured out I've got a thing for her.
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Was she mean about it? [like it's insane that she was the last one to notice, hello]
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and there's a pause before he shakes his head. ]
...nah. She's just... she's been through some really bad shit, 's all. I was more worried I was hurting her than anything.
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Having a fucking crush on someone isn't going to hurt them. You're not being an asshole about it.
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I know... the thing she went through was related, though, and - like, someone fucked her up in the worst kind of way. [ ichiro doesn't want to get into it too much - it's not his story to tell - but he will stress that Shit Was Really Fucked Up. ]
...So, when she said something, I thought maybe I'd been - I dunno. Reminding her of that, or something. I don't wanna do that. [ i don't want to hurt people. ] She just said... she didn't want to hurt me.
[ like she would?? do that somehow?? crazy. hurting is worth it, sometimes, though. even if he's been having a shitty time - he'd rather be hurt by someone he cares about on the path to fixing it instead of just left behind. there's a lesson he needs to learn here about talking about his problems? he's starting to learn it. ] ... We talked about it, and I think we're fine, but I dunno.
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[her fingers sort of twitch.]
I get that you're worried, though. It's not bad to be. Just don't beat yourself up over it.
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puts his face in his hand for a second and groans. ] That's the problem, too, I don't know how she wants to be treated, cause she told me that she liked me, too?
[ this week has really been
so much? it really takes a lot of pressure to crack ichiro. he, in a term used by xie lian, is not sure whether to laugh or to cry. at least it probably can't get much worse?? we're down to teenage levels of problems instead of murdergame related problems so there's that. he's feeling a little better with that off of his chest.... beau was the right person to come talk to about this, even if it was involuntary (probably because it was involuntary?) ]
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Oh my gods.
[why are teenagers like this!!!! iris is not a teenager, but listen. also don't look at her or her own romantic issues.]
Okay, like - like like? Or. Is she stringing you along? What the fuck is going on here. I don't see how you can have a conversation like "wow I like you!" and then not, like. Be dating.
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anyway, with his face still in his hands: ]
She said - Beau, she had to like, pour a shot even to talk about it. I didn't even know she knew. [ it was like visible from the moon but okay go off i guess ] I think she "it's-not-you-it's-me"'d me? I'm pretty sure that's what happened, which is fine, I'm way more about her being comfortable and I'm not an ass, and so that was totally fine. I'm glad I wasn't, like, traumatizing her or anything like that, so I figured it'd be cool, we were fine, I'd try to... be more subtle, I guess - she like, backed off where she was touching my hand, too, so, boundary set, totally got the message, crystal clear.
...but then like five minutes later, she told me "it's not like I don't want to be with you" and I have no idea what to do at all.
[ mixed signals!!!!!! MIXED SIGNALS!!!!! ]