[ He listens without interruption, frowning as he looks ahead, the sound of the bucket sloshing distantly into the fresh well water answering before he finds his answer. ]
...It sounds like you've had your trust wounded quite a lot.
[ His voice turns softer than before, open in its sympathy. He hates these stories—ones where people are forced into something painful, changed fundamentally into a harder person to withstand the cold and cruelty. Toko is irritable and over the top, but doesn't that just indicate a heart that feels much and prickles easily?
He does not begrudge cynics. If only the world were kind and its circumstances generous, a place where one might place their expectations higher without fear of hurt. But as for him... he grab the handle once the bucket is full and heavy, intending to wheel it back up if she prefers leaving the lifting to him. ]
But however right you may be, I must believe otherwise. [ He must—he has to. ] If we are attacked, we will withstand the blow. If we are meant to be made enemies, then we will find a way to be companions.
[ He does not want to believe in the inherent cruelty of anything, even if he knows it as truth. If there exists a possibility for something better, he has to put his faith in it. Whatever the case, the bright, glowing digits on his palm—636—don't budge at all. ]
Even if the truth winds up between our two expectations, I will not falter in that belief.
no subject
...It sounds like you've had your trust wounded quite a lot.
[ His voice turns softer than before, open in its sympathy. He hates these stories—ones where people are forced into something painful, changed fundamentally into a harder person to withstand the cold and cruelty. Toko is irritable and over the top, but doesn't that just indicate a heart that feels much and prickles easily?
He does not begrudge cynics. If only the world were kind and its circumstances generous, a place where one might place their expectations higher without fear of hurt. But as for him... he grab the handle once the bucket is full and heavy, intending to wheel it back up if she prefers leaving the lifting to him. ]
But however right you may be, I must believe otherwise. [ He must—he has to. ] If we are attacked, we will withstand the blow. If we are meant to be made enemies, then we will find a way to be companions.
[ He does not want to believe in the inherent cruelty of anything, even if he knows it as truth. If there exists a possibility for something better, he has to put his faith in it. Whatever the case, the bright, glowing digits on his palm—636—don't budge at all. ]
Even if the truth winds up between our two expectations, I will not falter in that belief.