| [Sep. 20th, 2009|06:26 pm] |
Haruichi was too far gone to wonder how Genma knew any of that, too dizzied by the heaviness of his broken blood-ties and aching heart. A heart that wasn't his, but still felt things for him all the same.
He managed not to voice any of the painful thoughts he'd had on the topic and to not say anything too cruel or cutting about any of them in reply. Just watched Genma's clear brown eyes and the flickers of memory and thought darting in them like little fish. Bright little fish. Everything seemed to be getting bright, even as he felt as though he was sinking.
"I wish she hadn't," he murmured so quietly, and so sadly. It was the most he'd ever sounded like the boy he'd once been for over a decade. "She was a better person than me." Same was true of Yumiko, and of Rin, and of Taisei and the others who'd been lost saving the people who were supposed to save Konoha.
"They were all better people," he said. He finally closed his eyes and dropped his head. "I'll never understand why it's the good ones who die first, no matter how hard I try."
And if that sounded like two things out loud it sounded like many more in Haruichi's head. He tried to save people and he tried to understand, but he failed often enough for it to feel as though anybody else wouldn't be so lost.
Which made him wonder if anybody else could have made a difference to the others like Hiro, could have known what to say or what to do. Could have made being an exile worth it. Could have made feeling like this be an exchange for a benefit to the Clan, instead of the hollow punishment it was.
Haruichi's eyes stayed closed, blocking out the drunken lights blurring his vision and whatever legitimate look Genma might be mustering. |
|