Shinjiro decides, then and there, that his old theory about this being some kind of purgatory or afterlife can go fuck itself. He'd already had his doubts at this point, considering the presence of immortals and demons from hell and such, but much more importantly, he doesn't want it to be true anymore. Not if Amada's here.
The trouble is, even with that decided in the privacy of his own mind, he truly has no idea what to say to him. When he'd been bleeding out in that alley, he'd gotten out everything he wanted the kid to hear from him, and he was supposed to be out of the kid's life, giving him some god damn closure. That was about the only thing in his life he'd felt he'd done right, and yet here he is now, face to face with the kid whose life he ruined, now apparently older. There's a part of Shinjiro that wants to know how he's been, if the group succeeded in stopping the Dark Hour, what he's doing with his life now, but it's not as though he has the right to any of that information. He's nothing more than a phantom, a dead man walking beyond his expiration date, and he should be firmly in Amada's rearview by now.
He still wants to run, and maybe the kid would think he just imagined it, a trick of the light, manifestation of anxiety in this strange abandoned city that is a little too reminiscent of the emptiness of the Dark Hour.]
Guess it'd be bad taste to say you look like you've seen a ghost, huh.
[...]
[Well, he hadn't anticipated the first thing to come out of his mouth to this kid to be that stupid, but at least now that he's gone and embarrassed himself they can get on with this and hopefully Shinjiro can steer him toward someone responsible enough to watch his back and then yeet himself back OUT of his life, like he belongs. It's fine. He's so fine.]
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Shinjiro decides, then and there, that his old theory about this being some kind of purgatory or afterlife can go fuck itself. He'd already had his doubts at this point, considering the presence of immortals and demons from hell and such, but much more importantly, he doesn't want it to be true anymore. Not if Amada's here.
The trouble is, even with that decided in the privacy of his own mind, he truly has no idea what to say to him. When he'd been bleeding out in that alley, he'd gotten out everything he wanted the kid to hear from him, and he was supposed to be out of the kid's life, giving him some god damn closure. That was about the only thing in his life he'd felt he'd done right, and yet here he is now, face to face with the kid whose life he ruined, now apparently older. There's a part of Shinjiro that wants to know how he's been, if the group succeeded in stopping the Dark Hour, what he's doing with his life now, but it's not as though he has the right to any of that information. He's nothing more than a phantom, a dead man walking beyond his expiration date, and he should be firmly in Amada's rearview by now.
He still wants to run, and maybe the kid would think he just imagined it, a trick of the light, manifestation of anxiety in this strange abandoned city that is a little too reminiscent of the emptiness of the Dark Hour.]
Guess it'd be bad taste to say you look like you've seen a ghost, huh.
[...]
[Well, he hadn't anticipated the first thing to come out of his mouth to this kid to be that stupid, but at least now that he's gone and embarrassed himself they can get on with this and hopefully Shinjiro can steer him toward someone responsible enough to watch his back and then yeet himself back OUT of his life, like he belongs. It's fine. He's so fine.]