[ Only the fact that he doesn't outright boss her around into talking with him gets her to consider humoring him. Consider being the key word. She's still not thoroughly convinced this won't turn into another spat, knowing herself, which makes her want to avoid him entirely, at least for the time being. Her gaze turns suspicious, heavier, as he asks that, and she doesn't move an inch. ]
I was going back to my room.
[ She says, honestly, a stubborn frown settling on her made-up features. Meticulously, she pores over every part of him— the disheveled, outgrown hair, the white streak marring it, the exhausted and not-really-there look in his eyes. There's the casual, deadpan drawl to his voice too, along with the surprisingly neutral way he'd handled things a few nights previous - all signs to her that he's at least not looking to start trouble.
Misa won't let herself think for a second that he actually feels bad for anything he said, but, she can at least see he's not doing this for no reason. And, well, she has things to say, questions to ask, too - she was only going to wait longer to say them. So she eventually relents, childishly blowing a puff of air out of her lips to move her bangs, in attempt to release some of the tension that she feels. There's nothing she can think of that'd be more dreadful than keeping the mood so grave and awkward. ]
You can come over, [ It's a tentative offer. Then, she rudely points to his cigarette. ] But you have to put that out. You'll make my furniture smell bad.
[ Is it the time to make such a whiny request? Probably not, but she has to smooth over agreeing to talk with him somehow. And if they're going to talk, she wants it to be in private, away from anyone else that might hear - so it's really her only option. No way she's going to his room. So she gives him a quick, expectant glance, before turning back to the direction she was going originally, letting him decide if he'll follow her or not after hearing her condition. ]
[ The look-over she gives him and the insistence on her room doesn't go amiss, but save narrowing his eyes, Gen doesn't bother protesting it. Yeah, he's definitely not looking for a fight right now -- and what would fighting with Misa even accomplish -- but it's not like saying that out loud would provide any actual comfort to her, and on a rational level he gets why she'd be so wary, so ... ]
Fine. [ Gen gives a brief sigh before calling out to her already-retreating back. ] Gimme a sec.
[ The 'sec' he needs is just go get to the nearest window so he can shove it open, toss out the cigarette stub and dust the smudge of ash off the front of his shirt before walking quickly to catch up to Misa. Though she might note that, unlike when they'd been searching Amos, this time Gen trails three, four paces behind, bootheels scuffing off the flooring as he follows listlessly with hands shoved in pockets.
He follows behind Misa quietly enough, shutting the door behind him once he enters. But he doesn't venture deep into the room. Gen barely gives Misa a second or two to settle in after the door's close before simply leaning against the wall near the doorway and saying, ]
I wanna hear about what happened to you. With your stalker.
[ The way he says it isn't flippant per se -- there's a quiet gravity to his voice that isn't usually present in his default, arrogant drawl. But there's no lead-in, no tact, no build-up, either. Gen simply lays that point out before watching Misa to see how she responds to that demand. ]
[ She just can't help herself— the words come out with an edge, an indication of her offense at being demanded that. It's not really that she keeps any of it a secret— it's just that she can't believe he has the audacity to want to know, let alone ask her. Maybe it's the fact that he sounds so serious, too, that has her feeling even more defensive. ]
I thought you said it was my fault for being stupid enough to get caught by him? But now you want the full story?
[ Her arms cross loosely over her chest, and she leans back against her vanity, unwilling to sit down or relax anywhere despite being in her own space. She's still feeling like she has no idea what he's trying to get at, aside from the fact that he clearly is giving the conversation weighted consideration— a warning sign that she should absolutely not throw the metaphorical grenade at the ground and blow up this one attempt at being serious with her. But without a concrete understanding for his motive, she just assumes he's trying to learn about it to absolve himself of some of his own guilt, his own hang-ups about what Makina must have felt in those horrifying moments in that apartment. She looks him right in the eye as she speaks, a quiet, equally heavy challenge in her tone: ]
How about you give me one good reason why I should tell you.
Yeah, cause you were talking to me so nicely before I said that, weren't you.
[ As if she can criticize him for being mean to her when, in his mind, she'd pulled the trigger first. 'If you wanted to die, you should've just died by yourself.' Her words from back then still echo clear in his head, making an acrid sensation churn in the pit of his stomach, and Gen restlessly crosses his arms, fingers twisting into the fabric of his sleeves. It's not that she's wrong per se, but the fact that she'd dare to say that to his face, like she knows anything at all about his situation ...
Still, his tone of voice is more bitter than it is angry -- cold, and above all else, tired. He has neither the desire nor energy to start an actual fight with her right now, and he only lets his words linger for a moment before sighing. Though his brow furrows deeper, his tone of voice is reeled back to that weary deadpan when he speaks again. ]
... there's no reason. I'm not planning on doing anything with that information, or to you. S'just that I wanna know what happened. [ He slouches slightly further against the wall as he looks at her. ] Figured you wouldn't want me to keep thinking you were just that much of an idiot, either.
[ Or, what, is she so petty that she'd rather cling to her anger and let herself be seen as that much of a moron? It's not even like he actually really believes whatever happened to her is her fault. ]
[ Her arms wind tighter the more he goes on, growing restless herself. Admittedly, she does feel like she misinterpreted what had happened between him and Makina, and had reacted more volatilely than she really should have. All things considered, it's like he said. She really doesn't really know anything about the situation he was in, aside from a few striking similarities. Not that she regrets what she said, exactly... but now she's left wondering if he'll react poorly to how dissimilar the two events really are. ]
...Fine.
[ She huffs, staring hard at some trinket on one of her shelves - refusing to look at him. ]
If you want to know so bad, it happened a few months after my parents died. My career really needed to take off back then— obviously I couldn't afford to live in our house anymore.... I had a lot of late shoots that I'd walk home alone from.
[ The first thing she feels like she needs to do is give an excuse as to why a then-eighteen year old like her was just strolling around past midnight by herself. And even then, the flippant way she'd talked about her parents' death on the boat to Achamoth seems lost, now, the words sounding much sorer than they had before. Before Venera, it was easy for her to talk about these things. Now she isn't so sure anymore, with the image of their deaths fresh in her mind. As she talks, she fidgets with one of the rings adorning her fingers, her heart beginning to beat unsteadily, wildly, in the confines of her chest. Sure, her voice stays even, calm, but she goes a bit paler recounting that night, unwilling to acknowledge it as she is. ]
He just kinda... popped out one night after following me for a while? I'd never seen him before. He was super old... and obsessed with me. I tried to let him down gently, but, well, he just went crazy the more I tried to get out of it. Next thing I know, there's this huge knife pointed at me...
[ For a moment, she closes her eyes, picturing the moment for herself in her head. The cold sweat that had been all over the man's face, his greasy hair, his unwashed clothes. She thinks about Gelus, who had saved her life that night, about Rem, who changed her life forever as a result, and her beating heart, too. What luck to still be breathing. Her voice is smaller when she talks again, scuffing her shoe on the immaculate floor. ]
[ To his meager credit Gen listens quietly, his gaze fixed on some indistinct point on the floor and flickering up only briefly to study Misa's demeanor before drifting away once more. And while, yeah, the clear differences between what Misa had been through and what he'd attempted to do with Makina does have a prickle of annoyance bubbling at the back of his throat ... When Misa finishes and silence fills the air between them, Gen waits for a moment before unfolding his arms just so he can make a vague gesture towards her. ]
Sit down. [ It's not said harshly enough to be an order, more of a brusque suggestion. ] You look like you're gonna faint.
[ Then he crosses his arms and leans back against the wall. Somehow, he gets the feeling this indication that he has no intention of stepping any further into the room will do more to put her at ease than any attempt to just shove her into the closest chair. That said, he thinks, head thumping lightly against the wall when he lets it roll back; he's aching for another smoke already and instead chews on his lip to keep himself distracted.
... to be honest, he can't help thinking it's still her fault in part. A celebrity walking around alone that late at night? Stupid of her not to have gotten someone to tag along with her. Don't celebrities have managers and shit? But he's not so tactless that he'll say any of that out loud. Especially not given what she'd said about her circumstances -- the death of her parents, something she sounds much more hurt by now. ... what, was she just playing at being strong the last time she brought it up? For what purpose? ... idiot.
Ultimately, regardless of whatever mitigating factors he wants to nitpick at, the conclusion he's forced to reach is the same -- what she went through was fucked up, on top of an already fucked-up life. No wonder he's constantly gotten the sense that there's something fundamentally wrong with her. ]
... must've been hard.
[ It's said quietly, but his words are spoken clearly, with no further hesitation.
He won't apologize for what he said; what else could Misa have expected, after saying something like that to him? But -- he'll at least walk back how much he'd downplayed what she'd been through. It's difficult for him to fully visualize how Misa must have felt, but on some abstract level, he gets it. Her plight isn't one he should have trivialized. ]
[ She lets out a breath at that, not quite a laugh, as she pushes herself off the vanity. ]
He died suddenly. Of a heart attack.
[ The words come quickly, and blunt - so short that it must nearly sound like a joke to his ears. Only her follow up makes it crystal clear that she's being dead serious: ]
It's probably the only reason I'm still alive, actually... ahaha.
[ It's an odd feeling, knowing her time had come so close to running out - one she tries not to think about often. It'd made cutting off such large chunks of her remaining life easy, after all. As much as she can, she tries to erase the thought of how long she has to live from her mind, the perfect fodder for her typical erratic, reckless behavior.
Still, she's not feeling quite so reckless right now, temper placated temporarily by his muted reaction. So, she agreeably makes her way to some nearby chair, plush and velvety, hands on either side of her. Misa finds the more she sees this side of him, the more she's certain her image of him has thoroughly changed, the pensive, melancholy facets of his personality coming through more prominently now that that initial light had been shone on them. Why else would he go through all this trouble to find out about this night? Unless he really wants to understand why things had turned out in Venera the way they did between them, the way she feels she understands. ]
That's pretty much it. I know now that it's not really the same thing... but, that's what happened.
[ She admits, genuine, brow knitted, and shoulders weighed down by the burden of her brush with death, their brush with death. What had happened between him and Makina was a cruel twist of miscommunication and tragedy, not the predatory advance that had been made on her. But she'd reacted abrasively to those words, I'll kill myself right after all the same. A reaction she still feels is a given, after what she went through. It still leaves a sour taste in her mouth, knowing that he could be driven to such an act. But if she owes him anything, it's an affirmation that she understood his motive didn't come from the same sick place, but from somewhere deeply lonely and sad, instead. It's the closest thing to an apology that she can really offer— admitting on some level that she had been wrong to overlay the two so closely. ]
[ His words are edged with the start of a breathy laugh, almost disbelieving, but could he be blamed for it? A crazy stalker finally tracking down his target, some cutesy celebrity, and threatening to kill her then himself, only to keel over of a heart attack. It sounds like something from a shitty B-tier drama, or maybe one of those daytime talkshows about unbelievable internet legends.
But no, she's serious, isn't she. Her tone of voice and demeanor are far too blunt and subdued for this to be some sort of shitty joke. Gen stares at her with brow furrowed dubiously for a moment before speaking flatly. ]
... yeah it was different.
[ It's a good thing she acknowledged that. Now knowing the details of what exactly had happened to her, he would've been really pissed had she maintained the impression that his motivations had been at all similar to those of her stalker. That's not really his main focus at the moment, though.
At the time, he'd been too distraught to think much about how the situation might have seemed from Makina's point of view, and after ending up here, he'd simply avoided thinking about the subject at all. Had willed himself not to dwell on it. Even more than what Misa says, the change in her demeanor as she discusses the subject and the lingering, pallid color of her face speak volumes about what being on that end of the knife must have felt like. His and Makina's relationship had ultimately been one of mutual benefit and opportunity, rather than any genuine sense of lifelong attachment, but still ... it's not like he'd ever wanted to scar her, especially not with this sort of quiet, subdued pain that Misa is showing hints of now.
He'd been thinking quietly for a moment, staring past Misa out her window, but Gen gives a slow exhale. Looks to her once more as he shifts his weight on his feet; for better or for worse, at least he's managed to clear up his thoughts a bit, and it helps him keep his words calm when he speaks again. ]
It worked out for you though, didn't it. If the guy dropped dead. S'good. [ 'It's good that you lived.' ] And s'not like you gotta worry about anything exactly like that ever happening again here, with how the folks treat us like gods, so ... at least there's that.
[ Only when he starts speaking at length do her eyes return to him, and she watches him carefully, noting down each word. When she thinks about it, this is probably the longest string of non-inflammatory words he's said to her at all - she can see what he's trying to do, much as there's a veneer of indifference over his speech itself. A tiny smile tugs at the corner of her lips, and she leans back into her seat more comfortably. ]
"At least there's that."
[ She repeats, wry, faintly amused, though she doesn't push the envelope further than that. Misa can be petty, and she can hold grudges. But she's also quite simple to distract or win over, given the right nudge, and after thinking about the big picture as much as she's had time to, between after everyone left Venera to this very moment.... she settles on the fact that he's not really a bad guy after all. Just a sad one, with an impressively short fuse. That, she could forgive, could learn to look past. It'd been a shock of course, seeing what she had, but some part of her is relieved that she'd misjudged things— and she's relieved Makina didn't die for real, too, or they'd really have a moral conundrum. ]
Trying to make me feel better or something? Things worked out. I'm glad he died.
[ She shrugs, leaning an elbow on the armrest of her seat. Misa could say that with confidence, a detached kind of apathy towards that man's life. There's still a seriousness in the air, after all, despite her lighter words. ]
Guess I never thought about it much more than that. There wasn't really a reason for me to— until, you know.
[ In the end, it's true— she really wasn't, and isn't worried about it, at least not the way someone probably should be after such a traumatic event. She wasn't scared of doing the same thing she'd done before, walking around late at night. But the vividness of his memory had given her that reminder; what it was like to think of your life being forfeited because of someone else's feelings, the unadulterated alarm and panic she'd felt on that random street on the way to her apartment. She's sure Makina felt it too, even if things were different. Maybe in knowing that, he could begin to actually face that night, the one he'd hidden from her all this time. ]
[ What is with people here feeling the need to loudly point out things that are obviously meant to go by without being commented on? The coy echo of his own words earns a small roll of the eyes (somewhat restrained only because he really doesn't want to waste the energy getting into a full-fledged fight with her right now), and Gen grunts as he further slouches where he leans against the wall. ]
Like any of that's gonna do anything to make you feel better.
[ As if. As if the sorts of hollow platitudes he'd forced himself to offer would do anything to properly ease the trauma of having been on that end of a knife. Though he's endeavored to offer Misa a small olive branch with this conversation, Gen harbors no delusions of being able to truly comfort her with any of what he's saying.
All he was looking for with this exchange was to reach some level of understanding. Mostly for himself, because it bothers him to not have some understanding of the circumstances around him. But also partly for her, if only so he doesn't have to deal with having to live alongside someone treating him with open disdain and fear -- something he'd thought he'd left behind in his hometown.
There's a pause before he gives a small sigh. ]
... what you saw. [ Gen's voice is a lower mutter. it's clearly easier for him to talk about Misa's situation than his own, and there's a clear reluctance to the way he forces himself to speak. ] It's from right before I ended up here. The last thing I remember. So -- there's been a lot else on my mind.
[ A brief pause before he gives an upwards nod, indicating at Misa with a tilt of the chin. ]
You don't have that excuse. You should probably think more about what happened to you. [ It's what Makina would have done, he supposes. (If his world hadn't been obliterated.) ] S'probably what normal people would do after something like that.
[ Maybe it's a good idea. Maybe not. But it just feels ridiculous not to at least point out that Misa's strange for not even considering that option. ]
[ She doesn't push back to dismiss the suggestion - but rather, to communicate that it simply didn't occur to her to think about it more deeply. It was over. The killer had died, and Gen is really the only other person that knows about this, aside from Rem and Light, now that she thinks about it. What purpose would thinking about it to herself serve, other than to remind her of something terrible that had happened? ]
It was a year ago already. I didn't really have time to dwell on it much back then, either... with my parents and everything. And like I said, he's dead. So what would I think about? Almost dying, over and over again? No thanks.
[ What would be left to ponder over? It'd be different if she could think over getting her revenge, or seeing to it that justice was served to the perpetrator. But it's already solved, in her opinion... She props her cheek up on her hand, leaning her weight heavily into the armrest of the chair, seeming much more at ease than she had minutes previous. It seems most of the tension has, at least for now, ebbed away, so she feels fine letting her guard down a little more.
Besides, when she's not talking or thinking about the actual, literal moments of the attack— she's fine. As long as she doesn't think about it. Which has been her method of coping for everything that's happened in the past two years, a method that clearly has zero flaws in it. Furthermore, her own ignorance of how that experience had permanently changed her into the reckless person she is today keeps her from seeing the merit in what he's talking about. Misa holds out a splayed hand to him. ]
You, on the other hand... it's not settled like that. So it makes sense to think about it.
[ Did he regret what he'd done? Could he move on from it, without the possibility of a true closure? If what he says is true, and he hasn't thought about it the whole time they've been in Horos— she has to imagine many of the same types of questions could start swirling around in his head. ]
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. ]
[ A part of her wants to say that he still has to live with what he'd done, which separates the two of them just on principle. He's a perpetrator, and she's a victim. Though, she supposes in some way, he's a victim of his own thinking, too. The way he says all that about it not mattering between him and Makina doesn't really convince her that he believes in what she's saying, anyway, so she figures it's a moot point. She's not about to try to tell him how to sort out his own attempts to end someone and his own life. Likewise to him, she doubts he'd ever take her opinion seriously. ]
Whatever you say, tough guy.
[ There's a breeziness to the way she says that, not condescending nor making fun of him - just a slightly worn-out sigh. It's the closest return to the way she'd spoken to him before Venera, perhaps falling just in line with his perception of how easily she can shelve things away, how easily she can fall back to "normalcy." It's not like she wants things to be strained between the two of them, after all. To her, the matter here feels settled; she understands his side better, and he understands hers. So maybe they could move on now, right? The search for Amos had certainly dampened a considerable amount of her aggression, too...
Once he starts leaning off the wall, she stands up too, feeling awkward letting someone leave while just lounging about. ]
But now you know. [ Another sigh. ] And since you do, I'll admit that I misjudged things back then, but it's not totally my fault, okay? Just saying.
[ And while she maintains that it isn't completely her fault for assuming the worst of him... the implication is that in some part, it was. It was easy to associate the scene with what she'd gone through herself, especially in such an emotionally empathetic and charged environment like Venera was. While she'd vastly prefer it if they could just go back to being normal allies and that they could go back to their regular banter, she feels it'll be even more awkward if she tries to act normal with him the next time she sees him without at the very least acknowledging the argument they'd had. There's an expectant look in her eye, as she makes eye contact with him again— plainly expecting him to accept what she said and agree. ]
[ To be honest, he'd fully expected Misa to stay lounging about while he exited her room, and he raises an eyebrow when she gets up. It makes more sense though, when he hears what she has to say. ]
Yeah, yeah. I get it.
[ That flippant answer is accompanied by an equally dismissive wave of the hand. Misa could not be blamed for finding that display of typical teenage behaviour annoying, given what they'd been talking about. But at least Gen follows it up with a low huff -- hand rising to rub at the back of his neck, tugging restlessly at the (growing-too-long) tangle of hair at the nape of his neck as he continues at a mumble: ]
... I said more than I should have, back then.
[ They're burying the hatchet like this, right? He gets it. He's not fully placated by Misa's half-assed admission of fault, and he imagines Misa won't be super pleased with his own not-quite-apology, but ... whatever. This much should be enough that they should be able to go back to pretending things are normal, at least. He's spent his whole life in a small town, he knows how things are when it's the same people stuck in the same place, having to see each other all the time -- sometimes it's best to make concessions so that day-to-day life is a little more bearable. And while Gen is hardly so forgiving that he'd make such compromises with most people ... fine. He'll go for it this time. Misa's still one of the few reminders he has of his life back home, and she's not completely wrong this time.
Still, even this bargain-bin imitation of an apology doesn't come easy to him, and there's barely enough room to let his words sink in before Gen hastily adds, ]
-- and don't go telling anyone about what you saw. Okay. [ Not quite brusque enough to be a demand, but too rude to be a request. Gen finally meets Misa's gaze, brow knitted -- looking for a moment like he's considering threatening her before he settles for muttering, ] ... really not planning on ever doing it again. So. It doesn't have anything to do with anyone here.
[ You know what, this is more than she expected from him, so she's gonna take it gratefully. At least he even admitted he did anything wrong. Though that small appreciation she felt for that is immediately dashed into the ground by his follow up comment - her expression flattens considerably. ]
Duh? Who would I even tattle on you to? And just when I was gonna say, 'I'm not gonna say anything, so no need to threaten me...'
[ There's a little hmph after she finishes rambling, an immature irritation rising to the surface. But, there's really nothing serious about it, she's just annoyed in the way someone is when they get told to do wash the dishes when they were already planning on doing it.
For a while there, she'd been having doubts on whether or not he still felt the same way he had back then— she witnessed for herself the weight of that ache he's chained to, after all. Though, the subdued way with which he admits to not having plans to ever try it again keep her from remaining too skeptical, as he really has no reason to try to convince her of it, unless he's being honest. It's a relief, however small, not that she shows an inch of it. For today, she's had enough showing any vulnerability in front of him. ]
If that's it, go on, shoo. [ She makes little shooing motions at him, apparently comfortable enough to go back to acting this way with him. ] I've got stuff to work on!
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no subject
I was going back to my room.
[ She says, honestly, a stubborn frown settling on her made-up features. Meticulously, she pores over every part of him— the disheveled, outgrown hair, the white streak marring it, the exhausted and not-really-there look in his eyes. There's the casual, deadpan drawl to his voice too, along with the surprisingly neutral way he'd handled things a few nights previous - all signs to her that he's at least not looking to start trouble.
Misa won't let herself think for a second that he actually feels bad for anything he said, but, she can at least see he's not doing this for no reason. And, well, she has things to say, questions to ask, too - she was only going to wait longer to say them. So she eventually relents, childishly blowing a puff of air out of her lips to move her bangs, in attempt to release some of the tension that she feels. There's nothing she can think of that'd be more dreadful than keeping the mood so grave and awkward. ]
You can come over, [ It's a tentative offer. Then, she rudely points to his cigarette. ] But you have to put that out. You'll make my furniture smell bad.
[ Is it the time to make such a whiny request? Probably not, but she has to smooth over agreeing to talk with him somehow. And if they're going to talk, she wants it to be in private, away from anyone else that might hear - so it's really her only option. No way she's going to his room. So she gives him a quick, expectant glance, before turning back to the direction she was going originally, letting him decide if he'll follow her or not after hearing her condition. ]
no subject
Fine. [ Gen gives a brief sigh before calling out to her already-retreating back. ] Gimme a sec.
[ The 'sec' he needs is just go get to the nearest window so he can shove it open, toss out the cigarette stub and dust the smudge of ash off the front of his shirt before walking quickly to catch up to Misa. Though she might note that, unlike when they'd been searching Amos, this time Gen trails three, four paces behind, bootheels scuffing off the flooring as he follows listlessly with hands shoved in pockets.
He follows behind Misa quietly enough, shutting the door behind him once he enters. But he doesn't venture deep into the room. Gen barely gives Misa a second or two to settle in after the door's close before simply leaning against the wall near the doorway and saying, ]
I wanna hear about what happened to you. With your stalker.
[ The way he says it isn't flippant per se -- there's a quiet gravity to his voice that isn't usually present in his default, arrogant drawl. But there's no lead-in, no tact, no build-up, either. Gen simply lays that point out before watching Misa to see how she responds to that demand. ]
no subject
[ She just can't help herself— the words come out with an edge, an indication of her offense at being demanded that. It's not really that she keeps any of it a secret— it's just that she can't believe he has the audacity to want to know, let alone ask her. Maybe it's the fact that he sounds so serious, too, that has her feeling even more defensive. ]
I thought you said it was my fault for being stupid enough to get caught by him? But now you want the full story?
[ Her arms cross loosely over her chest, and she leans back against her vanity, unwilling to sit down or relax anywhere despite being in her own space. She's still feeling like she has no idea what he's trying to get at, aside from the fact that he clearly is giving the conversation weighted consideration— a warning sign that she should absolutely not throw the metaphorical grenade at the ground and blow up this one attempt at being serious with her. But without a concrete understanding for his motive, she just assumes he's trying to learn about it to absolve himself of some of his own guilt, his own hang-ups about what Makina must have felt in those horrifying moments in that apartment. She looks him right in the eye as she speaks, a quiet, equally heavy challenge in her tone: ]
How about you give me one good reason why I should tell you.
no subject
Yeah, cause you were talking to me so nicely before I said that, weren't you.
[ As if she can criticize him for being mean to her when, in his mind, she'd pulled the trigger first. 'If you wanted to die, you should've just died by yourself.' Her words from back then still echo clear in his head, making an acrid sensation churn in the pit of his stomach, and Gen restlessly crosses his arms, fingers twisting into the fabric of his sleeves. It's not that she's wrong per se, but the fact that she'd dare to say that to his face, like she knows anything at all about his situation ...
Still, his tone of voice is more bitter than it is angry -- cold, and above all else, tired. He has neither the desire nor energy to start an actual fight with her right now, and he only lets his words linger for a moment before sighing. Though his brow furrows deeper, his tone of voice is reeled back to that weary deadpan when he speaks again. ]
... there's no reason. I'm not planning on doing anything with that information, or to you. S'just that I wanna know what happened. [ He slouches slightly further against the wall as he looks at her. ] Figured you wouldn't want me to keep thinking you were just that much of an idiot, either.
[ Or, what, is she so petty that she'd rather cling to her anger and let herself be seen as that much of a moron? It's not even like he actually really believes whatever happened to her is her fault. ]
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...Fine.
[ She huffs, staring hard at some trinket on one of her shelves - refusing to look at him. ]
If you want to know so bad, it happened a few months after my parents died. My career really needed to take off back then— obviously I couldn't afford to live in our house anymore.... I had a lot of late shoots that I'd walk home alone from.
[ The first thing she feels like she needs to do is give an excuse as to why a then-eighteen year old like her was just strolling around past midnight by herself. And even then, the flippant way she'd talked about her parents' death on the boat to Achamoth seems lost, now, the words sounding much sorer than they had before. Before Venera, it was easy for her to talk about these things. Now she isn't so sure anymore, with the image of their deaths fresh in her mind. As she talks, she fidgets with one of the rings adorning her fingers, her heart beginning to beat unsteadily, wildly, in the confines of her chest. Sure, her voice stays even, calm, but she goes a bit paler recounting that night, unwilling to acknowledge it as she is. ]
He just kinda... popped out one night after following me for a while? I'd never seen him before. He was super old... and obsessed with me. I tried to let him down gently, but, well, he just went crazy the more I tried to get out of it. Next thing I know, there's this huge knife pointed at me...
[ For a moment, she closes her eyes, picturing the moment for herself in her head. The cold sweat that had been all over the man's face, his greasy hair, his unwashed clothes. She thinks about Gelus, who had saved her life that night, about Rem, who changed her life forever as a result, and her beating heart, too. What luck to still be breathing. Her voice is smaller when she talks again, scuffing her shoe on the immaculate floor. ]
You already know what he said next.
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Sit down. [ It's not said harshly enough to be an order, more of a brusque suggestion. ] You look like you're gonna faint.
[ Then he crosses his arms and leans back against the wall. Somehow, he gets the feeling this indication that he has no intention of stepping any further into the room will do more to put her at ease than any attempt to just shove her into the closest chair. That said, he thinks, head thumping lightly against the wall when he lets it roll back; he's aching for another smoke already and instead chews on his lip to keep himself distracted.
... to be honest, he can't help thinking it's still her fault in part. A celebrity walking around alone that late at night? Stupid of her not to have gotten someone to tag along with her. Don't celebrities have managers and shit? But he's not so tactless that he'll say any of that out loud. Especially not given what she'd said about her circumstances -- the death of her parents, something she sounds much more hurt by now. ... what, was she just playing at being strong the last time she brought it up? For what purpose? ... idiot.
Ultimately, regardless of whatever mitigating factors he wants to nitpick at, the conclusion he's forced to reach is the same -- what she went through was fucked up, on top of an already fucked-up life. No wonder he's constantly gotten the sense that there's something fundamentally wrong with her. ]
... must've been hard.
[ It's said quietly, but his words are spoken clearly, with no further hesitation.
He won't apologize for what he said; what else could Misa have expected, after saying something like that to him? But -- he'll at least walk back how much he'd downplayed what she'd been through. It's difficult for him to fully visualize how Misa must have felt, but on some abstract level, he gets it. Her plight isn't one he should have trivialized. ]
How'd you get out of it. Cops?
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He died suddenly. Of a heart attack.
[ The words come quickly, and blunt - so short that it must nearly sound like a joke to his ears. Only her follow up makes it crystal clear that she's being dead serious: ]
It's probably the only reason I'm still alive, actually... ahaha.
[ It's an odd feeling, knowing her time had come so close to running out - one she tries not to think about often. It'd made cutting off such large chunks of her remaining life easy, after all. As much as she can, she tries to erase the thought of how long she has to live from her mind, the perfect fodder for her typical erratic, reckless behavior.
Still, she's not feeling quite so reckless right now, temper placated temporarily by his muted reaction. So, she agreeably makes her way to some nearby chair, plush and velvety, hands on either side of her. Misa finds the more she sees this side of him, the more she's certain her image of him has thoroughly changed, the pensive, melancholy facets of his personality coming through more prominently now that that initial light had been shone on them. Why else would he go through all this trouble to find out about this night? Unless he really wants to understand why things had turned out in Venera the way they did between them, the way she feels she understands. ]
That's pretty much it. I know now that it's not really the same thing... but, that's what happened.
[ She admits, genuine, brow knitted, and shoulders weighed down by the burden of her brush with death, their brush with death. What had happened between him and Makina was a cruel twist of miscommunication and tragedy, not the predatory advance that had been made on her. But she'd reacted abrasively to those words, I'll kill myself right after all the same. A reaction she still feels is a given, after what she went through. It still leaves a sour taste in her mouth, knowing that he could be driven to such an act. But if she owes him anything, it's an affirmation that she understood his motive didn't come from the same sick place, but from somewhere deeply lonely and sad, instead. It's the closest thing to an apology that she can really offer— admitting on some level that she had been wrong to overlay the two so closely. ]
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[ His words are edged with the start of a breathy laugh, almost disbelieving, but could he be blamed for it? A crazy stalker finally tracking down his target, some cutesy celebrity, and threatening to kill her then himself, only to keel over of a heart attack. It sounds like something from a shitty B-tier drama, or maybe one of those daytime talkshows about unbelievable internet legends.
But no, she's serious, isn't she. Her tone of voice and demeanor are far too blunt and subdued for this to be some sort of shitty joke. Gen stares at her with brow furrowed dubiously for a moment before speaking flatly. ]
... yeah it was different.
[ It's a good thing she acknowledged that. Now knowing the details of what exactly had happened to her, he would've been really pissed had she maintained the impression that his motivations had been at all similar to those of her stalker. That's not really his main focus at the moment, though.
At the time, he'd been too distraught to think much about how the situation might have seemed from Makina's point of view, and after ending up here, he'd simply avoided thinking about the subject at all. Had willed himself not to dwell on it. Even more than what Misa says, the change in her demeanor as she discusses the subject and the lingering, pallid color of her face speak volumes about what being on that end of the knife must have felt like. His and Makina's relationship had ultimately been one of mutual benefit and opportunity, rather than any genuine sense of lifelong attachment, but still ... it's not like he'd ever wanted to scar her, especially not with this sort of quiet, subdued pain that Misa is showing hints of now.
He'd been thinking quietly for a moment, staring past Misa out her window, but Gen gives a slow exhale. Looks to her once more as he shifts his weight on his feet; for better or for worse, at least he's managed to clear up his thoughts a bit, and it helps him keep his words calm when he speaks again. ]
It worked out for you though, didn't it. If the guy dropped dead. S'good. [ 'It's good that you lived.' ] And s'not like you gotta worry about anything exactly like that ever happening again here, with how the folks treat us like gods, so ... at least there's that.
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"At least there's that."
[ She repeats, wry, faintly amused, though she doesn't push the envelope further than that. Misa can be petty, and she can hold grudges. But she's also quite simple to distract or win over, given the right nudge, and after thinking about the big picture as much as she's had time to, between after everyone left Venera to this very moment.... she settles on the fact that he's not really a bad guy after all. Just a sad one, with an impressively short fuse. That, she could forgive, could learn to look past. It'd been a shock of course, seeing what she had, but some part of her is relieved that she'd misjudged things— and she's relieved Makina didn't die for real, too, or they'd really have a moral conundrum. ]
Trying to make me feel better or something? Things worked out. I'm glad he died.
[ She shrugs, leaning an elbow on the armrest of her seat. Misa could say that with confidence, a detached kind of apathy towards that man's life. There's still a seriousness in the air, after all, despite her lighter words. ]
Guess I never thought about it much more than that. There wasn't really a reason for me to— until, you know.
[ In the end, it's true— she really wasn't, and isn't worried about it, at least not the way someone probably should be after such a traumatic event. She wasn't scared of doing the same thing she'd done before, walking around late at night. But the vividness of his memory had given her that reminder; what it was like to think of your life being forfeited because of someone else's feelings, the unadulterated alarm and panic she'd felt on that random street on the way to her apartment. She's sure Makina felt it too, even if things were different. Maybe in knowing that, he could begin to actually face that night, the one he'd hidden from her all this time. ]
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Like any of that's gonna do anything to make you feel better.
[ As if. As if the sorts of hollow platitudes he'd forced himself to offer would do anything to properly ease the trauma of having been on that end of a knife. Though he's endeavored to offer Misa a small olive branch with this conversation, Gen harbors no delusions of being able to truly comfort her with any of what he's saying.
All he was looking for with this exchange was to reach some level of understanding. Mostly for himself, because it bothers him to not have some understanding of the circumstances around him. But also partly for her, if only so he doesn't have to deal with having to live alongside someone treating him with open disdain and fear -- something he'd thought he'd left behind in his hometown.
There's a pause before he gives a small sigh. ]
... what you saw. [ Gen's voice is a lower mutter. it's clearly easier for him to talk about Misa's situation than his own, and there's a clear reluctance to the way he forces himself to speak. ] It's from right before I ended up here. The last thing I remember. So -- there's been a lot else on my mind.
[ A brief pause before he gives an upwards nod, indicating at Misa with a tilt of the chin. ]
You don't have that excuse. You should probably think more about what happened to you. [ It's what Makina would have done, he supposes. (If his world hadn't been obliterated.) ] S'probably what normal people would do after something like that.
[ Maybe it's a good idea. Maybe not. But it just feels ridiculous not to at least point out that Misa's strange for not even considering that option. ]
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[ She doesn't push back to dismiss the suggestion - but rather, to communicate that it simply didn't occur to her to think about it more deeply. It was over. The killer had died, and Gen is really the only other person that knows about this, aside from Rem and Light, now that she thinks about it. What purpose would thinking about it to herself serve, other than to remind her of something terrible that had happened? ]
It was a year ago already. I didn't really have time to dwell on it much back then, either... with my parents and everything. And like I said, he's dead. So what would I think about? Almost dying, over and over again? No thanks.
[ What would be left to ponder over? It'd be different if she could think over getting her revenge, or seeing to it that justice was served to the perpetrator. But it's already solved, in her opinion... She props her cheek up on her hand, leaning her weight heavily into the armrest of the chair, seeming much more at ease than she had minutes previous. It seems most of the tension has, at least for now, ebbed away, so she feels fine letting her guard down a little more.
Besides, when she's not talking or thinking about the actual, literal moments of the attack— she's fine. As long as she doesn't think about it. Which has been her method of coping for everything that's happened in the past two years, a method that clearly has zero flaws in it. Furthermore, her own ignorance of how that experience had permanently changed her into the reckless person she is today keeps her from seeing the merit in what he's talking about. Misa holds out a splayed hand to him. ]
You, on the other hand... it's not settled like that. So it makes sense to think about it.
[ Did he regret what he'd done? Could he move on from it, without the possibility of a true closure? If what he says is true, and he hasn't thought about it the whole time they've been in Horos— she has to imagine many of the same types of questions could start swirling around in his head. ]
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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. ]
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Whatever you say, tough guy.
[ There's a breeziness to the way she says that, not condescending nor making fun of him - just a slightly worn-out sigh. It's the closest return to the way she'd spoken to him before Venera, perhaps falling just in line with his perception of how easily she can shelve things away, how easily she can fall back to "normalcy." It's not like she wants things to be strained between the two of them, after all. To her, the matter here feels settled; she understands his side better, and he understands hers. So maybe they could move on now, right? The search for Amos had certainly dampened a considerable amount of her aggression, too...
Once he starts leaning off the wall, she stands up too, feeling awkward letting someone leave while just lounging about. ]
But now you know. [ Another sigh. ] And since you do, I'll admit that I misjudged things back then, but it's not totally my fault, okay? Just saying.
[ And while she maintains that it isn't completely her fault for assuming the worst of him... the implication is that in some part, it was. It was easy to associate the scene with what she'd gone through herself, especially in such an emotionally empathetic and charged environment like Venera was. While she'd vastly prefer it if they could just go back to being normal allies and that they could go back to their regular banter, she feels it'll be even more awkward if she tries to act normal with him the next time she sees him without at the very least acknowledging the argument they'd had. There's an expectant look in her eye, as she makes eye contact with him again— plainly expecting him to accept what she said and agree. ]
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Yeah, yeah. I get it.
[ That flippant answer is accompanied by an equally dismissive wave of the hand. Misa could not be blamed for finding that display of typical teenage behaviour annoying, given what they'd been talking about. But at least Gen follows it up with a low huff -- hand rising to rub at the back of his neck, tugging restlessly at the (growing-too-long) tangle of hair at the nape of his neck as he continues at a mumble: ]
... I said more than I should have, back then.
[ They're burying the hatchet like this, right? He gets it. He's not fully placated by Misa's half-assed admission of fault, and he imagines Misa won't be super pleased with his own not-quite-apology, but ... whatever. This much should be enough that they should be able to go back to pretending things are normal, at least. He's spent his whole life in a small town, he knows how things are when it's the same people stuck in the same place, having to see each other all the time -- sometimes it's best to make concessions so that day-to-day life is a little more bearable. And while Gen is hardly so forgiving that he'd make such compromises with most people ... fine. He'll go for it this time. Misa's still one of the few reminders he has of his life back home, and she's not completely wrong this time.
Still, even this bargain-bin imitation of an apology doesn't come easy to him, and there's barely enough room to let his words sink in before Gen hastily adds, ]
-- and don't go telling anyone about what you saw. Okay. [ Not quite brusque enough to be a demand, but too rude to be a request. Gen finally meets Misa's gaze, brow knitted -- looking for a moment like he's considering threatening her before he settles for muttering, ] ... really not planning on ever doing it again. So. It doesn't have anything to do with anyone here.
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Duh? Who would I even tattle on you to? And just when I was gonna say, 'I'm not gonna say anything, so no need to threaten me...'
[ There's a little hmph after she finishes rambling, an immature irritation rising to the surface. But, there's really nothing serious about it, she's just annoyed in the way someone is when they get told to do wash the dishes when they were already planning on doing it.
For a while there, she'd been having doubts on whether or not he still felt the same way he had back then— she witnessed for herself the weight of that ache he's chained to, after all. Though, the subdued way with which he admits to not having plans to ever try it again keep her from remaining too skeptical, as he really has no reason to try to convince her of it, unless he's being honest. It's a relief, however small, not that she shows an inch of it. For today, she's had enough showing any vulnerability in front of him. ]
If that's it, go on, shoo. [ She makes little shooing motions at him, apparently comfortable enough to go back to acting this way with him. ] I've got stuff to work on!