The thought that a matter isn't worth thinking about just because the parties involved are dead. That doesn't feel right. And while that discomforting thought immediately manifests in the way Gen frowns, fingers tugging tight into the sleeves of his shirt where he has his arms crossed, the thin press of his lips makes it obvious he doesn't immediately know how to respond. On some logical level he knows that Misa's approach to her situation is messed up, but ... it's not like he'd been eager to spend a lot of time thinking about what he'd done several years back, either. How is he supposed to point out just how fucked in the head Misa is when he'd also done everything he possibly could to avoid thinking about the blood on his hands?
Gen opens his mouth to say something, pauses, changes his mind, and looks off towards the wall as he deadpans, ]
By that logic -- Makina's also gone. Our worlds are gone. What different does it make if I think about it? Not like there's anyone else here I'd try it again with.
[ So he says, but the way his last words come lingering and halting suggest that's not really the point he wants to make, and he's not happy about it. After all, he'd always avoided thinking about his demons, but that process had never come easy for him. His thoughts had always wandered back to those subjects, and a part of him almost envies how easily Misa seems to shelve subjects she simply doesn't want to think about.
... ugh, whatever. Thinking about this too hard is going to give him a headache. Gen sighs before pushing himself off the wall to stand straight once more, reaching up to brush his hand back through his hair; it's long enough that it keeps slipping out of place, and the pale strands bother him every time they slide into his field of vision. ]
Well ... do whatever you wanna do. I only wanted to ask what happened -- whatever else you do isn't really my problem. [ And somehow, he doubts she'd listen to anything he has to say, anyway. Which would be fair enough. ]
no subject
The thought that a matter isn't worth thinking about just because the parties involved are dead. That doesn't feel right. And while that discomforting thought immediately manifests in the way Gen frowns, fingers tugging tight into the sleeves of his shirt where he has his arms crossed, the thin press of his lips makes it obvious he doesn't immediately know how to respond. On some logical level he knows that Misa's approach to her situation is messed up, but ... it's not like he'd been eager to spend a lot of time thinking about what he'd done several years back, either. How is he supposed to point out just how fucked in the head Misa is when he'd also done everything he possibly could to avoid thinking about the blood on his hands?
Gen opens his mouth to say something, pauses, changes his mind, and looks off towards the wall as he deadpans, ]
By that logic -- Makina's also gone. Our worlds are gone. What different does it make if I think about it? Not like there's anyone else here I'd try it again with.
[ So he says, but the way his last words come lingering and halting suggest that's not really the point he wants to make, and he's not happy about it. After all, he'd always avoided thinking about his demons, but that process had never come easy for him. His thoughts had always wandered back to those subjects, and a part of him almost envies how easily Misa seems to shelve subjects she simply doesn't want to think about.
... ugh, whatever. Thinking about this too hard is going to give him a headache. Gen sighs before pushing himself off the wall to stand straight once more, reaching up to brush his hand back through his hair; it's long enough that it keeps slipping out of place, and the pale strands bother him every time they slide into his field of vision. ]
Well ... do whatever you wanna do. I only wanted to ask what happened -- whatever else you do isn't really my problem. [ And somehow, he doubts she'd listen to anything he has to say, anyway. Which would be fair enough. ]