[ besides. he's learned not to idolize anyone - he's learned exactly what happens to you when you do. but, spending time in viola's care and presence over the past few weeks has shown him a lot of things about her - and a lot of things that he recognizes about her, too. things he likes. things he knows. he doesn't push it beyond that though, because ichiro does say he's not smart, but emotions, he understands. no self deprecation, just reality. but in a way, it's the same stubbornness he looks at the world with, if on the flipside, too; ichiro's reality is always a few levels off of the ground floor.
ichiro takes another drink. it's familiar, ice cold and sweet, and the rum hits with a little bit of warmth at the back of his throat in contrast. unfamiliar, but good, then smiles at her. ] You're the one who told me - the only scope's the way you see it, you know? Your creativity, that's the limit. Not a big limits guy.
But if you like how I see it, then, hey, you gotta stick around, and I'll show it to you a lot.
[ . . . she's hesitant. it's not about what she can dream up - viola loves creating, whether it be new systems or new routes in order to help people. it's what she's good at. what she's less skilled with is opening herself up to the same possibility. the idea of opening her heart to others the same way that ichiro is, so unafraid of getting battered and bruised . . .
she lets her eyes slide shut again and shifts closer, just so that she can rest her head against his shoulder. it's been a long day, and the alcohol already makes it hard for her to keep her head up. one glass wonder...]
[ oh... cute. this is fine. ichiro shifts down a little bit and leans back where he can against the chaise, to make sure she's comfortable. chosen....
home is a nice concept. it's one that resonates with him. his beloved division, after all - there's not a place like it in the world. ]
...Y'know, I think, for the circumstances, you've made Winter a pretty good home. It's not just the stuff - it's the people in it, too. [ like their little housé, with its wall full of sentimental pictures and silly decorations. something that's all theirs. home. a little oasis, sometimes fraught with danger, but a place to belong, too. it's crazy; he can't even imagine moving dorms. can't even begin to think about it. ]
[he really has been chosen, somewhere between the wine and the conversation, she's decided that this is fine. she shuts her eyes again and honestly there's a solid chance she'll end up falling asleep at some point but for now the conversation is enough to keep her awake.]
... no one goes hungry, and no one is cold. Small things we take for granted - but it's given to everyone. A strong roof, good food, and people who are dear. Everyone has the freedom to pursue what they like - knowledge, skills, or just staying with people they're comfortable with. Knowing that they're safe.
A place where people are happy, and no one is scared.
[ i'm gonna really need her to stop saying stuff like this
there's a moment of quiet after viola finishes describing, and when ichiro speaks up again, his voice is soft, affectionate. overwhelmingly fond, as he glances down at viola propped against his shoulder. ]
... yeah? Mine too. [ what he's always wanted for his division and the people in it. to break down the walls of chuuoku and reunite the separated people of his homeland, to savor the territory of ikebukuro and keep it healthy and strong. ] Somewhere not limited by towering walls. Literally or not. Places where people can find family.
[ . . . she repeats the word thoughtfully, opening her eyes a little bit and glancing back up at ichiro, amused and fond. it feels like a warm moment.]
... mm. I think that sounds nice. I'd like to find something like that one day.
[ "someone like you", she says. ichiro shakes his head a bit, though not enough to jostle her. this is something he feels pretty strongly about; his voice is warm with it, for a moment, that passion contained into something localized, but there. ]
Vi, family - real family, blood or not - is something everyone deserves. I don't think there's anything selfish about it. And... even if you did feel like it was "someone like you"... family makes you better, too.
[ the best parts of ichiro exist because his brothers have been there. it's why losing the memory of them, even for just a day and a half, felt like being knifed in the gut. it matters to him more than anything in the world. ]
You love your brother - he is flesh and blood, he is next in line to the dukedom, and he is changing for the better. You tell yourself that over the past few years, he’s grown up well, and has even taken moments to express care and concern for you. You tell him that he’s allowed to make mistakes, just as any good elder sister would, and that enjoying his youth is also one of his duties.
You’re startled when he brings up the fact that he contributed to the most scarring day in your life.
It’s one that you remember clearly - the day that your fiance, who you had loved since you were but a little girl, publicly cast you aside in front of a crowd he’d personally gathered. Your crimes? Harassing the girl that was now at his side, his new love, who he clearly adored far more than you. And at their side? None other than your brother, sneering when you call yourself weak, helping to smear your name and your reputation.
Two who you love so dearly, more than than this world can even begin to recognize, casting you aside.
You feel your heart breaking again, the injury so raw that it never healed over.
You want to move past the conversation, you don’t want to talk about it, you think it’d be easier to continue this amiable sibling relationship where you don’t acknowledge the incident. You think that it’s easier, if you assume blame and consequence for your own jealous fit after your fiance, was stolen from you. You think that if you call it youth, it will be dismissed.
You don’t know what to do when you receive an apology for something that haunts you even now.
You don’t believe in love. You don’t believe in loyalty. Not to you, pathetic Lady Iris. You don’t trust anyone, for if even your own flesh and blood can decide that infatuation matters more than your dignity or well-being, how can anyone make promises that mean anything at all?
. . .
You watch him leave the room after his apology is accepted, even if it is not forgiven, and you cannot help the knot of guilt that sits in your stomach.
If you were better, could you have given a kinder answer? If you were like her - like the very person that everyone left you for - could you give and receive love?
And why bother thinking of those things, when you will never be anyone but this scarred, jealous you? ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
[ besides. he's learned not to idolize anyone - he's learned exactly what happens to you when you do. but, spending time in viola's care and presence over the past few weeks has shown him a lot of things about her - and a lot of things that he recognizes about her, too. things he likes. things he knows. he doesn't push it beyond that though, because ichiro does say he's not smart, but emotions, he understands. no self deprecation, just reality. but in a way, it's the same stubbornness he looks at the world with, if on the flipside, too; ichiro's reality is always a few levels off of the ground floor.
ichiro takes another drink. it's familiar, ice cold and sweet, and the rum hits with a little bit of warmth at the back of his throat in contrast. unfamiliar, but good, then smiles at her. ] You're the one who told me - the only scope's the way you see it, you know? Your creativity, that's the limit. Not a big limits guy.
But if you like how I see it, then, hey, you gotta stick around, and I'll show it to you a lot.
Sound good?
no subject
she lets her eyes slide shut again and shifts closer, just so that she can rest her head against his shoulder. it's been a long day, and the alcohol already makes it hard for her to keep her head up. one glass wonder...]
... where do you think I'd go?
I want to find a home too - or make one.
no subject
home is a nice concept. it's one that resonates with him. his beloved division, after all - there's not a place like it in the world. ]
...Y'know, I think, for the circumstances, you've made Winter a pretty good home. It's not just the stuff - it's the people in it, too. [ like their little housé, with its wall full of sentimental pictures and silly decorations. something that's all theirs. home. a little oasis, sometimes fraught with danger, but a place to belong, too. it's crazy; he can't even imagine moving dorms. can't even begin to think about it. ]
What'd your perfect home be like, Vi?
no subject
... no one goes hungry, and no one is cold. Small things we take for granted - but it's given to everyone. A strong roof, good food, and people who are dear. Everyone has the freedom to pursue what they like - knowledge, skills, or just staying with people they're comfortable with. Knowing that they're safe.
A place where people are happy, and no one is scared.
no subject
there's a moment of quiet after viola finishes describing, and when ichiro speaks up again, his voice is soft, affectionate. overwhelmingly fond, as he glances down at viola propped against his shoulder. ]
... yeah? Mine too. [ what he's always wanted for his division and the people in it. to break down the walls of chuuoku and reunite the separated people of his homeland, to savor the territory of ikebukuro and keep it healthy and strong. ] Somewhere not limited by towering walls. Literally or not. Places where people can find family.
no subject
[ . . . she repeats the word thoughtfully, opening her eyes a little bit and glancing back up at ichiro, amused and fond. it feels like a warm moment.]
... mm. I think that sounds nice. I'd like to find something like that one day.
no subject
Or find a way to make it. [ repeating what she said earlier, smiling just enough to show a dimple, a little amused too. ] Right?
no subject
... I don't know if someone like me gets to be that selfish...
[it feels presumptuous that she could get to create her own family? after all she's been tossed around...]
no subject
Vi, family - real family, blood or not - is something everyone deserves. I don't think there's anything selfish about it. And... even if you did feel like it was "someone like you"... family makes you better, too.
[ the best parts of ichiro exist because his brothers have been there. it's why losing the memory of them, even for just a day and a half, felt like being knifed in the gut. it matters to him more than anything in the world. ]
no subject
[she pauses like she wants to respond but - really, this was an opportunity for a memshare I couldn't pass up
“There are some things you can only experience as a student.”
You love your brother - he is flesh and blood, he is next in line to the dukedom, and he is changing for the better. You tell yourself that over the past few years, he’s grown up well, and has even taken moments to express care and concern for you. You tell him that he’s allowed to make mistakes, just as any good elder sister would, and that enjoying his youth is also one of his duties.
You’re startled when he brings up the fact that he contributed to the most scarring day in your life.
It’s one that you remember clearly - the day that your fiance, who you had loved since you were but a little girl, publicly cast you aside in front of a crowd he’d personally gathered. Your crimes? Harassing the girl that was now at his side, his new love, who he clearly adored far more than you. And at their side? None other than your brother, sneering when you call yourself weak, helping to smear your name and your reputation.
Two who you love so dearly, more than than this world can even begin to recognize, casting you aside.
You feel your heart breaking again, the injury so raw that it never healed over.
You want to move past the conversation, you don’t want to talk about it, you think it’d be easier to continue this amiable sibling relationship where you don’t acknowledge the incident. You think that it’s easier, if you assume blame and consequence for your own jealous fit after your fiance, was stolen from you. You think that if you call it youth, it will be dismissed.
You don’t know what to do when you receive an apology for something that haunts you even now.
You don’t believe in love. You don’t believe in loyalty. Not to you, pathetic Lady Iris. You don’t trust anyone, for if even your own flesh and blood can decide that infatuation matters more than your dignity or well-being, how can anyone make promises that mean anything at all?
. . .
You watch him leave the room after his apology is accepted, even if it is not forgiven, and you cannot help the knot of guilt that sits in your stomach.
If you were better, could you have given a kinder answer? If you were like her - like the very person that everyone left you for - could you give and receive love?
And why bother thinking of those things, when you will never be anyone but this scarred, jealous you? ]