(no subject)

[1stguardian]

All right. What's the plan now?

Or don't you have a plan? You don't, do you? Can't say I'm surprised. You never know what you're doing.

Whatever. Just don't take forever figuring it out. I've still got a lot left to do and I don't have time to wait on you.

Comments

[1stguardian]

[ And somehow it’s become his fault. Again.

He doesn’t have the right attitude. A guy’s yelling about personal, embarrassing things that he doesn’t do, and he’s the jerk for getting mad. His sense of humor’s shitty too. Because now he’s the asshole who apparently thinks people might actually want him to get naked. But hey, maybe it’s just because he isn’t normal. Never was, never will be. His beliefs are wrong, his values are wrong, hell, he’s wrong too.

It pisses him off. It hurts his feelings, although that isn’t something he’ll readily admit. No matter what he does, who he becomes, he’ll always be the punk everyone looks down on. Always be that brat with the stupid hair.

His voice is low, very quiet, and his eyes lift from the table. ]

You know, Naruto, for someone who claims that I’m such a great guy, you sure are quick to make sure I know I’m not good enough for you. And you know what, that’s fine. I’m not asking anything of you. I’m not expecting anything of you.

[ Shrugging, he sits up a little further in the seat. He can’t feel the eyes on him anymore. Now that the show’s over, the other patrons have problem gone back to their meals. ]

You wanna blame me for the shit that other guy did to you? Okay. That’s fine. I can take it. You wanna take your anger and hurt and whatever else out on me? Go ahead. I won’t break. [ His eyes narrow in a sudden spark of temper. ]

But don’t sit there and play the victim. Don’t act like I’m judging you. I’m not telling you to shut up. I’m not thinking you’re some kind of freak out to take advantage of me. I’m trying to talk to you. Trying to get to know you. Be your friend. And that’s not going to change. So go ahead. Do your worst. Because I’m not leaving, and I’m not such a coward that I’m going to be scared off.

[ The rest of it hardly seems to matter now. So he watches Naruto build his little chopstick sculptures and he listens to something he doesn’t really need to know. He’s not going to be kissing anybody. And it wasn’t even him that could do it anyway. Just a guy with his face. Some kind of twin he never even knew he had. ]

It’s all right. You don’t have to. Just because he could do it doesn’t mean I can. And there’s no point trying to learn something I’m never gonna use.

[ He casts a glance at the menu, spies something he hasn’t ever ordered here. ]

Currynanban. That’s what I’m having. [ He arches an eyebrow at Naruto. ] You seen the server around or have we scared her off?

[ Like nothing happened. Like hadn’t just been snapping at each other. ]

[willoffire]

I think ...we might've scared her off. [ This is where he starts, strangely enough, slowly, carefully, rendered silent up to this point by Ichigo's all too accurate assessment. Naruto has stopped playing around with those chopsticks. No, he stopped a little while and has been staring at the table ever since.

When did he start turning into a person he couldn't stand being around? He genuinely cannot remember. But he does not like it. Has never liked sullen and borderline bitter criticisms falling from his mouth. He's thought--

No. He'd known. Wasn't it why he'd councils himself against coming here? All those of ghosts, better left in their graves. All those wounds too slow to heal. All that he's lost right here, staring him in the face, telling him, you still make me feel like shit. Ichigo is right. That's not the part that cuts the most. It's the notion that he could make Ichigo feel just as Ichigo had once made him feel.

Like dirt. Like something less than. Like he wasn't good enough. He remembers that poison. He still has it inside him. Maybe that's why there's a bitter taste in the back of his mouth. Maybe that's the cause.

He sets his hands onto the table, palms flat. Takes a breath. What is he doing here. Really? What did he hope to achieve? Regain a friendship lost? Rekindle something else? The part of him that is utterly honest whispers of that hope but upon it, he realizes how laughable it is. How wrong it is.

Moving forward means no looking back, doesn't it? Here, now, he'll end up dragging this young man back to that place. It's inevitable. He did it before, he remembers all too well the pain in Ichigo's eyes then. Here, now, he's already managed a cut or two. He's already managed to wound someone who was only aiming to help.

I never got to say goodbye last time, he thinks. I never got to say thank you. It's a swift and it's desperate and as soon as he thinks it, he knows he's already made a decision.

So he takes another breath. Manages a smile, quiet, but honest. ] Yeah. You're right. M'being a dick. Would ya' look at that. Nothing's changed. [ Delivers it somewhat sheepishly and without rancor. Pauses upon it and raises one hand to watch the attention of a passing waitress. She nods, but her hands are full and he watches her head for the kitchens first.

No looking back.

But he does look up, over, to Ichigo. ] You were always the better person. [ And maybe he can lay at least one ghost to rest with that, solid in the assurance that this is right. ] You were always good enough. You always could'a done better than me. I always wondered, why you settled.

[ Another ghost laid to rest with that one. There's just one more, as Naruto stands, that one hand still on the table as he uses it to brace himself so that he can lean and--

This isn't fair. He knows it. You don't thieve a young man's first kiss like this. You don't take what isn't freely offered, but, he thinks it's a perfect example of why Ichigo is the better man. Thinks, you're wrong, you'll learn it. You'll use it. Sometime. You'll get there.

As he presses his mouth to Ichigo's briefly, fiercely. Pauses long enough to murmur out an apology. ] Sorry. Had to. One last time.

[ The goodbye he never claimed in Ukiyo, he steals here. Then moves his hands through the seals of the kawarimi technique. When he disappears, the only thing he leaves as evidence of his existence is a small, deceptively innocent shuriken, lodged rather firmly in the seat of his chair. ]