Jealous immediately prickles at the back of his throat. But it's not just that. Gen watching Amos quietly as he speaks, and maybe Amos can feel the gentle lap of emotions through their shared Legacy. That ugly pinprick of envy, certainly, but alongside it are other emotions. A faint glow of relief at knowing that Amos had at least had that going for him, had people who appreciated his sacrifices -- and the colder, wispier tug of something pensive and contemplative.
Gen can't help the way his gaze goes distant for a moment as he wonders how things might have been different if Reiji had had any idea what he'd done for him. If he could have at least been granted Reiji's understanding, if not his gratitude. If he'd somehow managed to find the same sort of acceptance that Amos had.
(Not that it really matters, the pervasive crawl of the Kenoma's influence through his soul reminds him. Reiji wanted to be dead. And now Reiji is gone, along with the rest of his hometown. All that remains is making sure everything else is also fairly obliterated.)
He looks away as he takes a deep pull at his cigarette, hand lingering at his chin for a moment as he nurses the smoke in his lungs, willing that familiar, bitter bite to soothe his nerves. It's not really in his nature to talk about these things, and even this oblique discussion has his nerves fluttering uneasily. Still, just knowing that Amos is capable of speaking to him fairly like this, knowing that someone is willing to try and understand him -- it does ease some of that tight feeling that's been crushing his lungs for the past few days.
Ash drips off the end of his cigarette when he taps it to the side -- then Gen gives Amos a light jostle to the arm, almost a playful punch. As if to say 'c'mon, lighten up.' ]
That's good enough, isn't it? Being good to the people who you know deserve it?
[ It's about as close as Gen can ever get to being encouraging.
A few thin wisps of smoke wreathe from his lips as he continues, endeavoring to keep his tone of voice casual in his usual, careless, delinquent fashion. ]
Dunno about you, but I have a harder time trusting people who say they're good to everyone. Nobody can spend their energy like that forever -- something's always gotta give, and they'll have to drop something eventually. [ Lies, in other words. People who claim to be equally kind to everyone are lying, intentionally or not. And he won't let himself be hurt by that kind of thing again. ] So it's the people who know their loyalties that I trust more, y'know?
[ People like Amos. Because by this point, he really does trust Amos. It's just that this indirect admission is all he can manage. Gen gives Amos a faint, lopsided smile before looking off into the darkness of the gardens once more; he's just about reaching the limits of the sincerity he can muster for once evening. ]
As long as you know who's important to you and you do right by them, isn't that good enough for now? Nobody's perfect.
no subject
Jealous immediately prickles at the back of his throat. But it's not just that. Gen watching Amos quietly as he speaks, and maybe Amos can feel the gentle lap of emotions through their shared Legacy. That ugly pinprick of envy, certainly, but alongside it are other emotions. A faint glow of relief at knowing that Amos had at least had that going for him, had people who appreciated his sacrifices -- and the colder, wispier tug of something pensive and contemplative.
Gen can't help the way his gaze goes distant for a moment as he wonders how things might have been different if Reiji had had any idea what he'd done for him. If he could have at least been granted Reiji's understanding, if not his gratitude. If he'd somehow managed to find the same sort of acceptance that Amos had.
(Not that it really matters, the pervasive crawl of the Kenoma's influence through his soul reminds him. Reiji wanted to be dead. And now Reiji is gone, along with the rest of his hometown. All that remains is making sure everything else is also fairly obliterated.)
He looks away as he takes a deep pull at his cigarette, hand lingering at his chin for a moment as he nurses the smoke in his lungs, willing that familiar, bitter bite to soothe his nerves. It's not really in his nature to talk about these things, and even this oblique discussion has his nerves fluttering uneasily. Still, just knowing that Amos is capable of speaking to him fairly like this, knowing that someone is willing to try and understand him -- it does ease some of that tight feeling that's been crushing his lungs for the past few days.
Ash drips off the end of his cigarette when he taps it to the side -- then Gen gives Amos a light jostle to the arm, almost a playful punch. As if to say 'c'mon, lighten up.' ]
That's good enough, isn't it? Being good to the people who you know deserve it?
[ It's about as close as Gen can ever get to being encouraging.
A few thin wisps of smoke wreathe from his lips as he continues, endeavoring to keep his tone of voice casual in his usual, careless, delinquent fashion. ]
Dunno about you, but I have a harder time trusting people who say they're good to everyone. Nobody can spend their energy like that forever -- something's always gotta give, and they'll have to drop something eventually. [ Lies, in other words. People who claim to be equally kind to everyone are lying, intentionally or not. And he won't let himself be hurt by that kind of thing again. ] So it's the people who know their loyalties that I trust more, y'know?
[ People like Amos. Because by this point, he really does trust Amos. It's just that this indirect admission is all he can manage. Gen gives Amos a faint, lopsided smile before looking off into the darkness of the gardens once more; he's just about reaching the limits of the sincerity he can muster for once evening. ]
As long as you know who's important to you and you do right by them, isn't that good enough for now? Nobody's perfect.