[Something tight releases in his chest, something he didn't know was clenched around his heart. He breathes in, out again, and nods. Hears his own heartbeat in his ears, hears the breeze around them, feels the earth beneath his roots. These are all real things. Haruno was real once, but isn't anymore. It's not dangerous to talk about this. It's not.]
I'm not that . . . I mean. Not much changed. Not really. [With a rueful quirk of a smile, he frames his face with his fingers, voguing to cut off the only thing that really changed. Hair texture and color do a lot to change the lens through which people perceive. It was so simple to become a different person, with the opportunity dropped in his weak and waiting hands.] What did change was genetic. Complicated. I didn't decide to do that part. It was more . . .
[The reluctance with which he looks back at her is palpable, but he does it. Shrugs faintly.]
He was just tired. I think he'd always been tired. He didn't want to be anymore [not to be tired but to be, to exist, to feel, no more verbs, no more anything, he was so tired so broken so sad—] so I let him go.
cw depression, suicidal ideation
I'm not that . . . I mean. Not much changed. Not really. [With a rueful quirk of a smile, he frames his face with his fingers, voguing to cut off the only thing that really changed. Hair texture and color do a lot to change the lens through which people perceive. It was so simple to become a different person, with the opportunity dropped in his weak and waiting hands.] What did change was genetic. Complicated. I didn't decide to do that part. It was more . . .
[The reluctance with which he looks back at her is palpable, but he does it. Shrugs faintly.]
He was just tired. I think he'd always been tired. He didn't want to be anymore [not to be tired but to be, to exist, to feel, no more verbs, no more anything, he was so tired so broken so sad—] so I let him go.