If you almost killed him, you probably succeeded at that.
( scaring him, that is.
though, in makoto’s experience, nearly getting killed once (or actually getting killed once?) kind of takes the sting out of that particular fright.
he doesn’t mind that their conversation had gotten rather dense and heavy over dinner—not the adjectives one would want to have over a meal, but makoto hadn’t necessarily been very hungry to begin with. he’s made a decent effort even despite their subject, sampling as many of the dishes as he could while they were freshly-made and warm (when applicable). there’s something about food that always awakens the only shred of nostalgia he has in his body; he doesn’t miss home, not in the slightest, but he does sometimes miss the food. finding places to order it within the resort, or friends that could cook, is very much worth it to him.
the young demon sits back in his chair, slumping slightly; he listens, and it’s around the time that kazuya acknowledges his own understanding on the topic that he smiles in a fragile, sad sort of way. yes, makoto has lived two lifetimes full of constant self-conflict, intent on caging the parts of himself before they could do too much harm. he probably understands what kazuya means more than anyone else. he’s just… newer at it, he thinks. )
it’s… hard. ( obviously. he rubs at one forearm as he speaks. ) I can tell you what doesn’t work. Trying to force it down, ignore it, starve it into disappearing… if it’s anything like what I’ve dealt with, that will only make it worse. You can’t punish yourself into making it go away.
( it’s sad that he’s so young and yet speaks with such authority on this, but he had spent years hating himself so deeply and fervently that he’s an expert at this point. he doesn’t as much—anymore. but there’s still a bit of that in him still. he is at least better at acknowledging that it’s all him now, the good and the bad. it’s just about controlling the impact that the latter has to others. )
…Do you think of Abel as something separate from yourself?
no subject
( scaring him, that is.
though, in makoto’s experience, nearly getting killed once (or actually getting killed once?) kind of takes the sting out of that particular fright.
he doesn’t mind that their conversation had gotten rather dense and heavy over dinner—not the adjectives one would want to have over a meal, but makoto hadn’t necessarily been very hungry to begin with. he’s made a decent effort even despite their subject, sampling as many of the dishes as he could while they were freshly-made and warm (when applicable). there’s something about food that always awakens the only shred of nostalgia he has in his body; he doesn’t miss home, not in the slightest, but he does sometimes miss the food. finding places to order it within the resort, or friends that could cook, is very much worth it to him.
the young demon sits back in his chair, slumping slightly; he listens, and it’s around the time that kazuya acknowledges his own understanding on the topic that he smiles in a fragile, sad sort of way. yes, makoto has lived two lifetimes full of constant self-conflict, intent on caging the parts of himself before they could do too much harm. he probably understands what kazuya means more than anyone else. he’s just… newer at it, he thinks. )
it’s… hard. ( obviously. he rubs at one forearm as he speaks. ) I can tell you what doesn’t work. Trying to force it down, ignore it, starve it into disappearing… if it’s anything like what I’ve dealt with, that will only make it worse. You can’t punish yourself into making it go away.
( it’s sad that he’s so young and yet speaks with such authority on this, but he had spent years hating himself so deeply and fervently that he’s an expert at this point. he doesn’t as much—anymore. but there’s still a bit of that in him still. he is at least better at acknowledging that it’s all him now, the good and the bad. it’s just about controlling the impact that the latter has to others. )
…Do you think of Abel as something separate from yourself?