[ She doesn't say anything to his assessment of the Negotiator's honesty; he's not asking her to agree with him, at least, so she can keep her suspicion and doubt to herself. I want to give him a second chance — she can't really stop him from trying. But Ruka doesn't believe what people say so easily, and between the two... maybe it's guilt that makes her want to believe the other Khaji was right, and maybe it's guilt that makes Jaime want to believe the Negotiator now, and as it is, neither of them would have much luck swaying the other. That's alright, she thinks; his Khaji Da will look after him, and she can... probably not accomplish much, in all honesty, but intentions remain. If she can prevent some damage, some repetition... then she has to. That's all there is to it.
Caught in thoughts like these, Ruka doesn't notice how long the silence hangs between them, but she feels the shift of feeling like a current in the air. It pulls her easily back into the present moment. He can speak as steady as he wants, as sure and (other-)self-effacing as he can get away with, but it's only the three of them here, and it's Jaime's heart that speaks the loudest; it doesn't hide how he feels. In a strange way, it makes the words themselves more unexpected — a confession she wouldn't have expected from Jaime, a confession she wouldn't have expected him to give to her, and, more than any of that, a confession she didn't have to wring out of him by force.
The fact they killed someone in the first place should be more of a shock than its confession. It should be. But even good people are full of darkness, and it's been a long time since Ruka has expected anything less than the worst.
Still. It's an honesty. And it's instinct to reply with something dismissive, something to make the confession seem smaller and easier to handle, but she can't bring herself to be that cruel. She waits, and she weighs, and considers what to say first. ]
... You don't want to go through it again. [ She speaks quieter, too; she shifts, turning to make it easier to look at Jaime now. She probably still looks a wreck, hitting the threshold of crying so many times but never quite starting, but there's nothing she can do about that now.
What's more important, in this moment? In the future? What matters more? ]
... But, if he doesn't know about it now... there's a chance he'll find out. If he jumps forward in time, in your original universe, or he encounters your memory of it, or... a hundred other ways you can't anticipate. If it happens... would he keep to a truce like this?
no subject
Caught in thoughts like these, Ruka doesn't notice how long the silence hangs between them, but she feels the shift of feeling like a current in the air. It pulls her easily back into the present moment. He can speak as steady as he wants, as sure and (other-)self-effacing as he can get away with, but it's only the three of them here, and it's Jaime's heart that speaks the loudest; it doesn't hide how he feels. In a strange way, it makes the words themselves more unexpected — a confession she wouldn't have expected from Jaime, a confession she wouldn't have expected him to give to her, and, more than any of that, a confession she didn't have to wring out of him by force.
The fact they killed someone in the first place should be more of a shock than its confession. It should be. But even good people are full of darkness, and it's been a long time since Ruka has expected anything less than the worst.
Still. It's an honesty. And it's instinct to reply with something dismissive, something to make the confession seem smaller and easier to handle, but she can't bring herself to be that cruel. She waits, and she weighs, and considers what to say first. ]
... You don't want to go through it again. [ She speaks quieter, too; she shifts, turning to make it easier to look at Jaime now. She probably still looks a wreck, hitting the threshold of crying so many times but never quite starting, but there's nothing she can do about that now.
What's more important, in this moment? In the future? What matters more? ]
... But, if he doesn't know about it now... there's a chance he'll find out. If he jumps forward in time, in your original universe, or he encounters your memory of it, or... a hundred other ways you can't anticipate. If it happens... would he keep to a truce like this?
Will you be okay?