[That's it...? Again, despite trying to trick himself into thinking he's not, he can't help but feel disappointed. Though he should know better to expect anything more than basic responses, basic regard, basic relations... No, in the first place, Ritsu's not trying to form meaningful relationships, so he really doesn't have the right to complain when he lacks them.
He looks away once more, mostly to hide the expression that's likely evident on his face, the one that tends to give it all away. Instead, he needs to focus on Inaho. Despite his intentions, Ritsu can't quite agree that he's "okay." Of course, he doesn't exactly have any evidence to support this claim. Maybe he only wants him to stick around for his own personal comfort. That thought... He hates himself for it. If he's so in need of comfort, Saga's offering plenty of that. But— that thought makes him hate himself even more.
It just seems like everything is falling apart. In this sort of situation, it's like they started with nothing. Handed nothing, told nothing, expected nothing, but amidst that, Inaho created something. That room. Maybe it's really not anything that meaningful. Maybe, once again, Ritsu's forcing a connection out of something relatively ordinary. Maybe he's projecting all of his emotions onto Inaho. Maybe, ultimately, the one who's really lonely is Ritsu.
Maybe it's both of them. Ritsu can't really tell anymore. He can't know without Inaho expressing it directly, and what he does know is that that's something that won't ever happen. Why did he come here...? All that's happening is that he's being shown once again how powerless he is.
He bites his lower lip, his gaze once again straying towards the water. Maybe the silence between them is better. Whenever he tries to speak, he complicates things. He ruins things. Earlier, he accused Inaho of running away. But even now, it's him. He's still averting his eyes from all of this reality. Being like this... It's a burden. The one who doesn't have the right to stay in that room, it's him. Even now, as he's letting all these negative emotions seep in, he's becoming more and more of a burden. He hates it.]
I see.
[The words are faint, barely escaping. Standard words of acceptance that he uses when there's nothing left for him to say.]
no subject
He looks away once more, mostly to hide the expression that's likely evident on his face, the one that tends to give it all away. Instead, he needs to focus on Inaho. Despite his intentions, Ritsu can't quite agree that he's "okay." Of course, he doesn't exactly have any evidence to support this claim. Maybe he only wants him to stick around for his own personal comfort. That thought... He hates himself for it. If he's so in need of comfort, Saga's offering plenty of that. But— that thought makes him hate himself even more.
It just seems like everything is falling apart. In this sort of situation, it's like they started with nothing. Handed nothing, told nothing, expected nothing, but amidst that, Inaho created something. That room. Maybe it's really not anything that meaningful. Maybe, once again, Ritsu's forcing a connection out of something relatively ordinary. Maybe he's projecting all of his emotions onto Inaho. Maybe, ultimately, the one who's really lonely is Ritsu.
Maybe it's both of them. Ritsu can't really tell anymore. He can't know without Inaho expressing it directly, and what he does know is that that's something that won't ever happen. Why did he come here...? All that's happening is that he's being shown once again how powerless he is.
He bites his lower lip, his gaze once again straying towards the water. Maybe the silence between them is better. Whenever he tries to speak, he complicates things. He ruins things. Earlier, he accused Inaho of running away. But even now, it's him. He's still averting his eyes from all of this reality. Being like this... It's a burden. The one who doesn't have the right to stay in that room, it's him. Even now, as he's letting all these negative emotions seep in, he's becoming more and more of a burden. He hates it.]
I see.
[The words are faint, barely escaping. Standard words of acceptance that he uses when there's nothing left for him to say.]