[ he had no well-meaning defense that could justify these eight long years. his excuse is the same excuse used by all the unremarkable men that came before him, and the unremarkable men before them. it's an excuse as old as courage, and as old as cowardice. he was afraid. he took a base, self-defeating enjoyment on some level, keeping it from her. she wouldn't say it back. she would be disgusted with him. it didn't belong to him. he didn't deserve it. she didn't deserve it. the relief that seizes him now isn't contingent on her response, be it acceptance or revulsion. the relief he feels now exists independent of her, and is as much physiological response as it is a psychological one, not unlike the respite that follows a bout of nauseated vomiting. turns out, suppressing everything for as long as he did poisons you just as well as any toxin, and will kill you just as well as any toxin, provided you don't beat it to the punch.
that was his plan. strains of shame threaten to dirty his relief like spores on a petri dish. like the shame that follows the relief that follows the forceful vomiting. ]
What are you saying? [ kaji shuts his eyes, his words a low murmur against the thick fabric of her knee. did she catch that? ] Listen to yourself, Katsuragi...
[ that's okay. flowering was beneath her, anyhow. he lifts his head as much as allowed given their cumbrous positioning, feeling for her face with his face, bunching up the extra fabric of his sleeve, and wiping away the streaks of tears inelegantly. he wants to hug her, and kiss her, but that would require him rising to her level, or her stooping to his. he stays put. ]
no subject
that was his plan. strains of shame threaten to dirty his relief like spores on a petri dish. like the shame that follows the relief that follows the forceful vomiting. ]
What are you saying? [ kaji shuts his eyes, his words a low murmur against the thick fabric of her knee. did she catch that? ] Listen to yourself, Katsuragi...
[ that's okay. flowering was beneath her, anyhow. he lifts his head as much as allowed given their cumbrous positioning, feeling for her face with his face, bunching up the extra fabric of his sleeve, and wiping away the streaks of tears inelegantly. he wants to hug her, and kiss her, but that would require him rising to her level, or her stooping to his. he stays put. ]