[ neither of them are incredibly good at communicating, or wrangling their emotions. it leads to more conflict than not. even last time, it was so fraught with arguments and crossed wires. so the answer to this might seem simple—that's right, they can't understand one another—but to him, that's not true.
[ He doesn't like it at first. He doesn't like how quiet Haru gets, and how hard it can be to elicit a reaction from him. Why don't you show him what's going on in that water-logged head? How can you be so unaffected by this?
But he tamps down on his temper. It's rare that logic has any weight left in his behaviour once emotions run high, and he can see what Haru's trying to do:
Have a conversation instead of a screaming match. ]
Because I wasn't there when you went through all that, and I can never know what it was like.
[ in these rare moments that they do fall into sync, it feels important to... talk. as simple as it is, that feels like that step they've struggled with most. he's surprised, visibly, and there is another little flash of a memory—colliding, rolling in the dirt, landing in front of a cherry tree which looks unremarkable in the summertime—and he lets out a long exhale. ]
I don't resent you for that, Rin. I don't want you to know what it's like.
[ he won't argue that they push each other's feelings aside to make room for their own sometimes, but that's both their faults. ]
I... [ he trails off a little, just as uncertain of what to say. it takes a while. ] I didn't need someone to understand. I had that. [ makoto at home, his more murderous friends in the reaper's game. ] You were... someone who accepted me, even if you didn't get it.
[ It doesn't feel like enough, but that's not Haru's fault.
He doesn't feel like enough. He'd gotten better about it, through the power of friendship, time and relay, but being in this place has only resurfaced all those old dialogues. Of watching helplessly at everything his team had to go through without him. ]
I just... don't want you to think of me as someone who'll run away when things get hard. Who you can't rely on.
but it's very strange getting this memory—which he doesn't have—from rin's perspective. he wants to yell at himself, because that's not how he feels? ...or maybe it is, and the fear of losing rin again means he never allows himself to think it.
but no, it's not. it doesn't make it right to say regardless? he also doesn't know who albert even is so this is stupid. the memory ends and he looks frazzled, rushing to respond. ]
[ The response isn't entirely surprising. Their memories had been mismatched last time, so he'd suspected they might be again this time too.
He's not angry like he had been in that moment—the details aren't important in the face of everything they're dealing with here. What's important is the sentiment. Does Haru think he would abandon him? ]
... But you did. [ Rubbing his neck. ] And I did prove your point a bit by just leaving after you said it.
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for a moment, he is still and quiet as a pond. ]
...That's not how I feel. Why do you ask?
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But he tamps down on his temper. It's rare that logic has any weight left in his behaviour once emotions run high, and he can see what Haru's trying to do:
Have a conversation instead of a screaming match. ]
Because I wasn't there when you went through all that, and I can never know what it was like.
Because... I always put my feelings before yours.
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I don't resent you for that, Rin. I don't want you to know what it's like.
[ he won't argue that they push each other's feelings aside to make room for their own sometimes, but that's both their faults. ]
I... [ he trails off a little, just as uncertain of what to say. it takes a while. ] I didn't need someone to understand. I had that. [ makoto at home, his more murderous friends in the reaper's game. ] You were... someone who accepted me, even if you didn't get it.
[ of course that still brought him comfort. ]
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He doesn't feel like enough. He'd gotten better about it, through the power of friendship, time and relay, but being in this place has only resurfaced all those old dialogues. Of watching helplessly at everything his team had to go through without him. ]
I just... don't want you to think of me as someone who'll run away when things get hard. Who you can't rely on.
[ Kind of like this. ]
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but it's very strange getting this memory—which he doesn't have—from rin's perspective. he wants to yell at himself, because that's not how he feels? ...or maybe it is, and the fear of losing rin again means he never allows himself to think it.
but no, it's not. it doesn't make it right to say regardless? he also doesn't know who albert even is so this is stupid. the memory ends and he looks frazzled, rushing to respond. ]
—No. I wouldn't say that. [ WHO WAS THAT!!!!! ]
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He's not angry like he had been in that moment—the details aren't important in the face of everything they're dealing with here. What's important is the sentiment. Does Haru think he would abandon him? ]
... But you did. [ Rubbing his neck. ] And I did prove your point a bit by just leaving after you said it.