( it’s the somewhat uncharacteristic frankness (‘uncharacteristic’ at least from makoto’s perspective, given his interactions with esi in the past) that cuts him to the quick, stifling any further circuitous worries and causing them to wilt and die on his tongue before they can find voice. makoto has an ear for pointless assuagement. he’s heard it enough to know the emptiness that rings in it, those sort of casual, polite platitudes that others produce to meet the social need but don’t really feel them in depth. things like, “it can’t be as bad as you think,” or “everything will be alright”—they always infuriated him to hear, because they not only showed how little others understood of what he dealt with but also underlined the privilege of their own safe, average, normal position. he doesn’t get any of that from esi, though. he speaks with the weary certainty of someone drawing from a well of personal experience. their interactions have always been a bit of a game of give-and-take, so that and that aforementioned frankness startle him into a state of acute attention.
it’s funny that esi himself arrived to a similar conclusion that M had, though makoto himself is still struggling to add up to it. though who they are at their baseline, encoded into their thought patterns and the very essence of who they were, certainly influenced things, it was both the path they were on and the steady forge of time that made them into who they would one day become. as questionable of a place as it could be, the Golden Peacock wasn’t as inhospitable to him as his version of earth had been. it’s not as cruel and callous as hell. there’s no inevitability, not when they themselves—both their own selves but especially all the people they surround themselves with—could surround them with kinder climes and circumstances.
esikko’s hypothetical causes makoto’s mouth to press into a thin line, his brow furrowing. of course he wouldn’t. he understands that it’s hypocritical to assert as he had, but—it always seems different when it’s you, doesn’t it? you always have the perspective on the worst parts of yourself, those that you are sure not to voice let alone act upon. it’s somewhat paradoxical, that others can view you better than you view yourself because of your own self-restraint—and yet you don’t give yourself credit for that restraint.
in everything that esi says, of course, makoto does catch onto it. his expression crumples into something quizzical. )
“Lifetimes?”
( there are certainly plenty of people in the resort less equipped to understand it. makoto kind of does. being taken into hell had felt like his second, and, honestly, his time here feels like his third. is that what esi means? has he been to all sorts of different realms like this, or is it something else?
either way, it’s not entirely relevant. he thinks about it, really thinks about what esi asks him. it takes him a moment to really identify what it is he’s avoiding and how it would even be possible to try to address it. naturally, his mind shies from it. of course it does. he’s been running and hiding from this deep, dark, monstrous truth of himself his whole life. in the eventuality that he ever truly came to accept it without complaint… isn’t that when he would become who it was he hated?
funnily enough… isn’t this what their doppelgangers had really wanted? to be looked at, seen, understood, and accepted? who knows how M might have reacted if he’d been able to do that. perhaps he had been emboldened, knowing that he wasn’t yet in a state where he could do that yet. )
Wouldn’t that just end up doing the same thing, though? I’ve… ( esi has been so honest with him, he owes him the same, doesn’t he? ) I’ve always wanted to do some really terrible things to people. More than anything, I’ve wanted it. But—it’s wrong to want that, isn’t it? And, facing something like that head on… well, it just doesn’t seem right to just accept it.
I don’t want to become someone who can just thoughtlessly hurt another person. Not—not like how he did.
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it’s funny that esi himself arrived to a similar conclusion that M had, though makoto himself is still struggling to add up to it. though who they are at their baseline, encoded into their thought patterns and the very essence of who they were, certainly influenced things, it was both the path they were on and the steady forge of time that made them into who they would one day become. as questionable of a place as it could be, the Golden Peacock wasn’t as inhospitable to him as his version of earth had been. it’s not as cruel and callous as hell. there’s no inevitability, not when they themselves—both their own selves but especially all the people they surround themselves with—could surround them with kinder climes and circumstances.
esikko’s hypothetical causes makoto’s mouth to press into a thin line, his brow furrowing. of course he wouldn’t. he understands that it’s hypocritical to assert as he had, but—it always seems different when it’s you, doesn’t it? you always have the perspective on the worst parts of yourself, those that you are sure not to voice let alone act upon. it’s somewhat paradoxical, that others can view you better than you view yourself because of your own self-restraint—and yet you don’t give yourself credit for that restraint.
in everything that esi says, of course, makoto does catch onto it. his expression crumples into something quizzical. )
“Lifetimes?”
( there are certainly plenty of people in the resort less equipped to understand it. makoto kind of does. being taken into hell had felt like his second, and, honestly, his time here feels like his third. is that what esi means? has he been to all sorts of different realms like this, or is it something else?
either way, it’s not entirely relevant. he thinks about it, really thinks about what esi asks him. it takes him a moment to really identify what it is he’s avoiding and how it would even be possible to try to address it. naturally, his mind shies from it. of course it does. he’s been running and hiding from this deep, dark, monstrous truth of himself his whole life. in the eventuality that he ever truly came to accept it without complaint… isn’t that when he would become who it was he hated?
funnily enough… isn’t this what their doppelgangers had really wanted? to be looked at, seen, understood, and accepted? who knows how M might have reacted if he’d been able to do that. perhaps he had been emboldened, knowing that he wasn’t yet in a state where he could do that yet. )
Wouldn’t that just end up doing the same thing, though? I’ve… ( esi has been so honest with him, he owes him the same, doesn’t he? ) I’ve always wanted to do some really terrible things to people. More than anything, I’ve wanted it. But—it’s wrong to want that, isn’t it? And, facing something like that head on… well, it just doesn’t seem right to just accept it.
I don’t want to become someone who can just thoughtlessly hurt another person. Not—not like how he did.