melodiouspacifist | Genessia IC Inbox

I wanna break stuff when I'm upset, too. Lashin out, hittin things, lettin it out that way - it's pretty much all I did, when I was younger.

[ Shinjiro admitted this, figured the only thing he could do was be honest, it was the only thing he could think of to do.

Lies might feel better, but they were never helpful in the long run.

Which is why he said - ]

... There's somethin there, ain't it?

[ Because Demyx didn't seem startled, but confused, he guessed: ]

Maybe not a heart, but ...

Something.

[He doesn't remember. He doesn't know what he used to do when he was upset, because it has been nearly ten years. He can't remember. He doesn't know what to do and that uncertainty isn't helping.]

I don't have a training room here. [He grits his teeth, Arelen is already not speaking to him so breaking her belongings wouldn't go over well, at all.]

No. I don't know. A hurt. It shouldn't hurt. I don't get it.

[ Well. This was at least something Shinjiro knew how to help with. ]

... Wanna go with me to Nova City?

They've got the Holodeck'd there, which is real good for trainin, beatin shit up without real property damage.

[ Hell, he'd let Demyx use him as a punching bag, even, if it'd help him. ]

Maybe it shouldn't, but it is.

And, we've gotta work with what we got.

If that means somethin's there now, growin, that ain't been there before ...

[ Shinjiro is the worst person for this job. But who else is offering? ]

... I'll try to help you figure it out.

[There's barely any hesitation because he thinks that if he works off whatever this stupid feeling situation is, he will feel better. It will stop. Everything will be normal.]

Yes.

[He goes down on one knee and starts lacing up his boots.]

I don't know. I don't know what's wrong. It feels like something is wrong. [Lacing his boots was giving his hands something to do. It's funny, he has the serious urge to move and work out his frustrations, but not play his sitar.]

[ Shinjiro patiently waits for him to get ready, puts his hands back in his pockets. Beating things up is something he could do.

The rest of it, he felt rather at sea.

Still - ]

If it helps.

I don't think there's anythin 'wrong'.

You'd ... hoped it could happen, right?

I...this isn't what I meant. I don't know what I meant!

[He practically flails. He finishes with his other boot and goes into his room.]

I don't like it. I thought it was supposed to be a good thing.

[He's pulling on his coat.]

It is.

[ Shinjiro sighed. Emotions weren't all happiness and sunshine and kittens. Emotions frequently sucked.

He almost wished that Demyx didn't have to find that out. ]

It's a good thing, but there are gonna be some shitty parts that go with it.

Which, really, is why I punch things sometimes still.

[Demyx gives him a pained look and zips up his coat. Next are the gloves and he's finally ready to leave the house.]

I just think if I can...do something...I don't know it sounds stupid.

Do you really think I'm feeling?

You don't sound stupid, Demyx.

This kinda shit's confusing.

[ Or at least, it confused him.

He looks over at him, trying to catch his eye. Shinjiro wants his friend to know that this is 100% truth, unvarnished bullshit, no dishonesty, no sugar-coating. ]

Yeah.

I really do.

... Sorry it sucks, but. There's good stuff which goes 'long with this too.

[He takes Shinjiro's words as truth and he exhales.]

Shit. [Shinjiro is kind of a bad influence on his language.]

I don't really want to think. Let's go.

[He needs to think, but he also appreciates Shinjiro for everything he's just done. He doesn't really know how express that.

He pauses and raises his fist, punching Shinjiro's shoulder very lightly.]

[ It didn't seem like Shinjiro was just influencing his vocabulary. That friendly punch? That was pure Shinji-language. Message received, and Demyx got a small, but noticeable and quite genuine, smile in return. ]

Common, then.

Maybe I'll program the Holodeck'd to make you some Shadows.

They're real satisfyin to take down after a shitty day.

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