Satoru had said that once, years back, and thinks of it now, as he hears Suguru's amused exhalation — as he listens to his reply and notes the slight rustle of fabric as Suguru looks around. This prize is misleading in its simplicity, considering what a talk between them represents — what it means, to let down their guards long enough to exchange words in peace, to go beyond the framework of games and prizes, and to discuss, in a rare moment of truce, what the future will look like on the train. Satoru isn't asking for mere words; he's saying, Put aside the fact that I killed you, and listen. He's telling Suguru to stop, for a moment, on the path he undoubtedly seeks to resume, and consider sitting beside an old friend.
He's telling him there's been something more to this game from the beginning, and regardless of who let whom win, it was always going to end this way: Suguru presented with a choice, a fork in the path that was once linear and set.
This prize, which he pretends he only just invented in response to a back-and-forth unearthed from their past, has been in the back of his mind all along.
Because Satoru, for all his antics and seemingly careless way of meandering through jujutsu society and this train both, plots for the future while actively being dismissed as a nuisance.
But there are wrenches that can be thrown into his plans: prison realms, for one. And now, Suguru's willingness to work with him. It remains an uncertainty, though just as Satoru trusted him once before, he chooses to trust him again — believes that there is still enough of the old Suguru within him to consider an offer.]
You should've said!
[An exclamation that Satoru would make whether he thought the prize was a threat or not, though he chooses to take it at face value, and is curious about what Suguru had in mind. This is followed by a disappointed sigh, during which Satoru spreads himself out on the floor, taking up even more space within the hall. He leans back on his hands and kicks his feet out. He doesn't think he's at risk of kicking Suguru, given the proximity of his voice, but his foot does happen to nudge Suguru's shoe, Satoru will play it off with a grin as if it was entirely intentional.]
Too late now. But...
[There's that head tilt again, yet another invitation to join Satoru in this lax sprawl. Suguru's choice to come closer without actually getting near Satoru is smart, and the fact that he is giving even this much should be seen as an inkling of progress toward Satoru's goal. But Satoru doesn't like half-measures, and his actual prize will require full commitment, so he pushes too far. He asks for a bigger gesture, though he is offering nothing of himself in return.]
Maybe I'll pick yours instead, if you're gonna stand around all day.
[But Suguru isn't the only one who would be flirting with peril by sitting next to him. This is, in a sense, a risk for Satoru as well — dangerous, because Suguru could learn that his eyes are somewhere for the taking, and unideal, because he's fatigued, and if Suguru sees that, he'll know that there are new limitations to what Satoru can do.
There are things that Suguru can learn by sitting beside him — and he is, perhaps, the only person who could identify these hindrances quickly, easily, no matter how flippantly Satoru behaves.
But the alternative is to resist the desire to push too far, to refrain from asking for too much, to refuse to be excessive —
and that would be much more suspicious in the end.]
no subject
Satoru had said that once, years back, and thinks of it now, as he hears Suguru's amused exhalation — as he listens to his reply and notes the slight rustle of fabric as Suguru looks around. This prize is misleading in its simplicity, considering what a talk between them represents — what it means, to let down their guards long enough to exchange words in peace, to go beyond the framework of games and prizes, and to discuss, in a rare moment of truce, what the future will look like on the train. Satoru isn't asking for mere words; he's saying, Put aside the fact that I killed you, and listen. He's telling Suguru to stop, for a moment, on the path he undoubtedly seeks to resume, and consider sitting beside an old friend.
He's telling him there's been something more to this game from the beginning, and regardless of who let whom win, it was always going to end this way: Suguru presented with a choice, a fork in the path that was once linear and set.
This prize, which he pretends he only just invented in response to a back-and-forth unearthed from their past, has been in the back of his mind all along.
Because Satoru, for all his antics and seemingly careless way of meandering through jujutsu society and this train both, plots for the future while actively being dismissed as a nuisance.
But there are wrenches that can be thrown into his plans: prison realms, for one. And now, Suguru's willingness to work with him. It remains an uncertainty, though just as Satoru trusted him once before, he chooses to trust him again — believes that there is still enough of the old Suguru within him to consider an offer.]
You should've said!
[An exclamation that Satoru would make whether he thought the prize was a threat or not, though he chooses to take it at face value, and is curious about what Suguru had in mind. This is followed by a disappointed sigh, during which Satoru spreads himself out on the floor, taking up even more space within the hall. He leans back on his hands and kicks his feet out. He doesn't think he's at risk of kicking Suguru, given the proximity of his voice, but his foot does happen to nudge Suguru's shoe, Satoru will play it off with a grin as if it was entirely intentional.]
Too late now. But...
[There's that head tilt again, yet another invitation to join Satoru in this lax sprawl. Suguru's choice to come closer without actually getting near Satoru is smart, and the fact that he is giving even this much should be seen as an inkling of progress toward Satoru's goal. But Satoru doesn't like half-measures, and his actual prize will require full commitment, so he pushes too far. He asks for a bigger gesture, though he is offering nothing of himself in return.]
Maybe I'll pick yours instead, if you're gonna stand around all day.
[But Suguru isn't the only one who would be flirting with peril by sitting next to him. This is, in a sense, a risk for Satoru as well — dangerous, because Suguru could learn that his eyes are somewhere for the taking, and unideal, because he's fatigued, and if Suguru sees that, he'll know that there are new limitations to what Satoru can do.
There are things that Suguru can learn by sitting beside him — and he is, perhaps, the only person who could identify these hindrances quickly, easily, no matter how flippantly Satoru behaves.
But the alternative is to resist the desire to push too far, to refrain from asking for too much, to refuse to be excessive —
and that would be much more suspicious in the end.]