[Something frankly short-circuits in Shinjiro's brain when Amada starts crying. He's already the kind of person who feels desperately awkward when someone cries, unprepared and ill-equipped to offer anything like comfort, but this is on another level. His first instinct is a sort of panic, a hand sort of half-stretched out in an aborted attempt to set it on the kid's shoulder before vehemently thinking better of it.]
Ah--hey...don't--
[Fuck. Shit fuck. He doesn't know what to do, and somewhere in the midst of his mind racing it suddenly slams into him like a truck that the tears are about him, and that grinds all of his ability to think coherent thoughts to a screeching halt. It just -- he can't twist it into a shape that makes sense. Amada had looked horrified when he'd been dying back then, yes, but Shinjiro had assumed (had convinced himself) it was just the shock of the situation, the adrenaline of having almost been murdered. The kid had every right to hate him. The idea that he did made it easier for Shinjiro to stand himself, most days.
He doesn't deserve his tears, or his grief, and Shinjiro honestly can't help but feel a sense of frustration well up once he realizes what's happening. He can't stop messing up the kid's life, can he. He's clearly had years to put all this shit behind him, and here Shinjiro is to rip it all back up and make him relive it fresh. He's so tired of himself.]
...Shit.
[It's too late to run now, and part of him regrets it. He wonders if it would've been better to simply avoid him, but on some level he knows he couldn't have. That's why he came back to SEES, after all -- there was no escaping the sense of obligation he had to the kid, no matter how uncomfortable with himself he might feel.
At length:]
I don't have anything to say. I shouldn't be here still breathin', but I am. Doesn't stick here, for some reason. If you never wanna see my face again, say the word and I'm gone, I swear.
[He'll just. He'll ask Kitsuragi to look out for him. One favor, and he'll never ask anything of him ever again. Kitsuragi's a good man, a kinder man than Shinjiro's deserved. He'd do it. He's sure he would.]
no subject
Ah--hey...don't--
[Fuck. Shit fuck. He doesn't know what to do, and somewhere in the midst of his mind racing it suddenly slams into him like a truck that the tears are about him, and that grinds all of his ability to think coherent thoughts to a screeching halt. It just -- he can't twist it into a shape that makes sense. Amada had looked horrified when he'd been dying back then, yes, but Shinjiro had assumed (had convinced himself) it was just the shock of the situation, the adrenaline of having almost been murdered. The kid had every right to hate him. The idea that he did made it easier for Shinjiro to stand himself, most days.
He doesn't deserve his tears, or his grief, and Shinjiro honestly can't help but feel a sense of frustration well up once he realizes what's happening. He can't stop messing up the kid's life, can he. He's clearly had years to put all this shit behind him, and here Shinjiro is to rip it all back up and make him relive it fresh. He's so tired of himself.]
...Shit.
[It's too late to run now, and part of him regrets it. He wonders if it would've been better to simply avoid him, but on some level he knows he couldn't have. That's why he came back to SEES, after all -- there was no escaping the sense of obligation he had to the kid, no matter how uncomfortable with himself he might feel.
At length:]
I don't have anything to say. I shouldn't be here still breathin', but I am. Doesn't stick here, for some reason. If you never wanna see my face again, say the word and I'm gone, I swear.
[He'll just. He'll ask Kitsuragi to look out for him. One favor, and he'll never ask anything of him ever again. Kitsuragi's a good man, a kinder man than Shinjiro's deserved. He'd do it. He's sure he would.]