[ Komaeda's really out here ruining people's lives and making them cry.
He's not crying, though, even if he feels his eyes burning. The hand on his is cold, but the weight is still a comfort, and that fist slowly loosens and opens under Komaeda's palm.
What does he want? He doesn't know. He thinks of a time when he would have said "you," like an inside joke that's to be laughed off and so he can say what he feels, so he can push that attention away, and so he can wait for a swift rejection and a change in conversation and things to go back to normal. Instead, his thoughts are muddied. He doesn't want anything. He wants too many things. He wants to scream, to cry, to not feel anything at all. He wants to be that Rokuro that Komaeda sees, somebody to be admired. Or the child in the forest who'd gone the other way.
...
He lets out a breath and lifts his head, and then his eyes, and looks at Komaeda. ]
I want what I always have: to graduate, so I can go home to my family.
no subject
He's not crying, though, even if he feels his eyes burning. The hand on his is cold, but the weight is still a comfort, and that fist slowly loosens and opens under Komaeda's palm.
What does he want? He doesn't know. He thinks of a time when he would have said "you," like an inside joke that's to be laughed off and so he can say what he feels, so he can push that attention away, and so he can wait for a swift rejection and a change in conversation and things to go back to normal. Instead, his thoughts are muddied. He doesn't want anything. He wants too many things. He wants to scream, to cry, to not feel anything at all. He wants to be that Rokuro that Komaeda sees, somebody to be admired. Or the child in the forest who'd gone the other way.
...
He lets out a breath and lifts his head, and then his eyes, and looks at Komaeda. ]
I want what I always have: to graduate, so I can go home to my family.