[ There’s not a single part of what she says that doesn’t resonate. Up to and including her original idea of peace, ironic as his agreement would be. Still, none of it compares to how her final words hit. As kind as they are, it strikes like a physical blow and he goes still under their weight. His voice, when it finally comes out, is tight and contained. Controlled by necessity. ]
You have a lot of faith in me, Hibiki. [ One-ups her use of first names by dropping the honorifics altogether! Completely unintentionally, mind you. He’s just too caught up in the messy swirl of feelings inspired by that same faith to keep formality in mind. ] And I wouldn't have minded if you'd asked. You should know that… For a long time, what I was fighting for wasn’t right.
[ Putting words to something he’s known for ages and never said out loud is painful, almost physically so. He looks away, letting his eyes drift away from her face and focusing instead on where their hands meet. After a breath, he continues on in the same tone. ]
When I was a kid, I did— [ A wince ] —I did something terrible. And for years, all I wanted to do was make up for it. Find a way to atone. It's why I enlisted. To try and save people, to prevent more lives from being lost.
[ Mostly, he'd been trying to die. A detail he has no interest in burdening her with. That's not what this is about. ]
It was naïve and childish. Nothing I did changed anything. Not for the better, at least. I was just ignoring my own responsibility, following orders and acting like that made it justice. [ There's a world of self-disgust held in that single word. ] My goals have changed since then. There's a chance to fix things, for real this time. But...
[ None of that changes his culpability. Nor the idea that, throughout everything — the teasing, the phone calls, the date — Suzaku's never been able to shake the feeling that he's lying to her. By omission maybe, but a lie nonetheless. Because if she knew the truth, knew and understood it, then none of it would have happened in the first place.
He raises his head and meets her eyes once more. ]
That's the kind of person I really am. You have a right to know that.
no subject
You have a lot of faith in me, Hibiki. [ One-ups her use of first names by dropping the honorifics altogether! Completely unintentionally, mind you. He’s just too caught up in the messy swirl of feelings inspired by that same faith to keep formality in mind. ] And I wouldn't have minded if you'd asked. You should know that… For a long time, what I was fighting for wasn’t right.
[ Putting words to something he’s known for ages and never said out loud is painful, almost physically so. He looks away, letting his eyes drift away from her face and focusing instead on where their hands meet. After a breath, he continues on in the same tone. ]
When I was a kid, I did— [ A wince ] —I did something terrible. And for years, all I wanted to do was make up for it. Find a way to atone. It's why I enlisted. To try and save people, to prevent more lives from being lost.
[ Mostly, he'd been trying to die. A detail he has no interest in burdening her with. That's not what this is about. ]
It was naïve and childish. Nothing I did changed anything. Not for the better, at least. I was just ignoring my own responsibility, following orders and acting like that made it justice. [ There's a world of self-disgust held in that single word. ] My goals have changed since then. There's a chance to fix things, for real this time. But...
[ None of that changes his culpability. Nor the idea that, throughout everything — the teasing, the phone calls, the date — Suzaku's never been able to shake the feeling that he's lying to her. By omission maybe, but a lie nonetheless. Because if she knew the truth, knew and understood it, then none of it would have happened in the first place.
He raises his head and meets her eyes once more. ]
That's the kind of person I really am. You have a right to know that.