[Ever since he's said that, fear creeps deeper and deeper into his mind, his breathing growing heavier with each repetition. It's too much to say. He never should have admitted it...
But Minato understands; he includes himself alongside instantly. There's nothing implied wrong about what he's admitted. Despite not mentioning the kinds of things that he's seen, there's something a little familiar about Minato's confession.
He's equally soft when he replies, but his voice is strained and intense. His need for answers has stripped down his own sense of safety. This is what he doesn't dare to admit at all, pretty clearly; even the prospect of saying more scares him on a level too existential for him to even understand fully.
He pushes on anyway, but not because he wants to. By now, he couldn't stop if he tried. If he'd known this would be where this talk ended up before, he'd have never sat down. He might have never accepted Minato as anything at all. He'd have run as best as he could, not daring to say more out of fear it'd be more true.
There's a lot he can't admit. That he can feel himself dying, that he can't make it stop. That he doesn't know if it's ever going to be okay.
But somehow the worst question there is whether or not he's seeing all this dead on the street back in Neo Tokyo. None of it's real beyond one long dream he's never waking up from. Maybe dying in his dreams and visions means something worse than a short future.
And he can't know that either.]
I used something like that at first. A cat...
[Grim.]
But it's not just visions and stuff anymore.
[Tetsuo's stare feels like it could bore holes in the floor. He could just be daring Minato to call him insane here. And he's done his brain no favors past what those bastards did to it; the stuff he was on didn't help this. But he's been sober for months, and that feeling only grew worse for it.
no subject
But Minato understands; he includes himself alongside instantly. There's nothing implied wrong about what he's admitted. Despite not mentioning the kinds of things that he's seen, there's something a little familiar about Minato's confession.
He's equally soft when he replies, but his voice is strained and intense. His need for answers has stripped down his own sense of safety. This is what he doesn't dare to admit at all, pretty clearly; even the prospect of saying more scares him on a level too existential for him to even understand fully.
He pushes on anyway, but not because he wants to. By now, he couldn't stop if he tried. If he'd known this would be where this talk ended up before, he'd have never sat down. He might have never accepted Minato as anything at all. He'd have run as best as he could, not daring to say more out of fear it'd be more true.
There's a lot he can't admit. That he can feel himself dying, that he can't make it stop. That he doesn't know if it's ever going to be okay.
But somehow the worst question there is whether or not he's seeing all this dead on the street back in Neo Tokyo. None of it's real beyond one long dream he's never waking up from. Maybe dying in his dreams and visions means something worse than a short future.
And he can't know that either.]
I used something like that at first. A cat...
[Grim.]
But it's not just visions and stuff anymore.
[Tetsuo's stare feels like it could bore holes in the floor. He could just be daring Minato to call him insane here. And he's done his brain no favors past what those bastards did to it; the stuff he was on didn't help this. But he's been sober for months, and that feeling only grew worse for it.
Nothing makes sense anymore.]
If the one you have stops working, what then?