A dozen things rush through my head, a dozen things I could say right now, to the man that was once my dearest friend and most trusted ally, to the man that tried to have me killed, to the man that, as I learned later through tearful conversations with Mitsuzane, killed an innocent girl just so he could take the golden fruit for his own.
I stare at him when he speaks. I do not look at Kazuraba, but I can sense that his posture is mostly relaxed, that he doesn't feel Ryouma is here as a threat. In fact he is probably the reason that we have met in such a way today.
After a very long pause I take the case from Ryouma's hand. I don't have to look at it to know what it is, and to guess at what it contains. I carried a case of exactly the same shape and weight for so long because of him, because I refused to allow anyone else to be the first test subject for the Sengoku Drivers.
I don't look at the case, I just hand it off to Kazuraba, and then step forward to grab Ryouma by the collar of his consultation coat, yanking him forward until our faces are mere centimeters apart.
There is something different about him, something different in his eyes. Or rather, something deeply familiar, something I have't seen since long before his betrayal, since long before we began distributing the Sengoku Drivers.
"Ryouma." I let out a shaky breath, and drop my grip on his collar. My arms move to embrace him, and I wrap him up in a fierce hug, my cheek against his temple. I speak softly near his ear, my voice pained. "I thought you were dead."
I can't imagine he understands the weight of meaning behind my words, the layers to my statement, but I can't find the will to elaborate further just now.
no subject
I stare at him when he speaks. I do not look at Kazuraba, but I can sense that his posture is mostly relaxed, that he doesn't feel Ryouma is here as a threat. In fact he is probably the reason that we have met in such a way today.
After a very long pause I take the case from Ryouma's hand. I don't have to look at it to know what it is, and to guess at what it contains. I carried a case of exactly the same shape and weight for so long because of him, because I refused to allow anyone else to be the first test subject for the Sengoku Drivers.
I don't look at the case, I just hand it off to Kazuraba, and then step forward to grab Ryouma by the collar of his consultation coat, yanking him forward until our faces are mere centimeters apart.
There is something different about him, something different in his eyes. Or rather, something deeply familiar, something I have't seen since long before his betrayal, since long before we began distributing the Sengoku Drivers.
"Ryouma." I let out a shaky breath, and drop my grip on his collar. My arms move to embrace him, and I wrap him up in a fierce hug, my cheek against his temple. I speak softly near his ear, my voice pained. "I thought you were dead."
I can't imagine he understands the weight of meaning behind my words, the layers to my statement, but I can't find the will to elaborate further just now.