[Action]

[dissonates]

[Since a certain someone's arrival, Asch has been kind of cranky and not particularly social, which has suited him just fine, besides having to endure appearing more pathetically lonely than usual. It's not like he really cares what other people think of him anyway (usually). Apparently there's some kind of party going on today, which makes him want to go out even less, so he's content to stay inside and keep out of the way. Parties? Not his thing.

But apparently some people have other ideas.

Eventually he will escape the party (greatly relieved to be away from it, whether he enjoyed himself at all or not), and will instead hang around outside the building trying to gather what's left of his dignity before he heads home. He just wants an uneventful walk in the dark (because it's always dark for him) and a long night's rest.

And apparently he's not allowed to do that, either.

Only when he makes it home does he finally take steps towards contacting a certain scientist who can get his body back to normal. Four months is long enough to be fumbling around in the dark without his replica nearby.]

Comments

[dissonates]

[The sour look that crosses Asch's expression at that comment is probably answer enough. He moves to the table carefully and sits down, one hand sliding over the surface until it finds the cup, checking the temperature.]

That's a mild way of saying that he wanted me dead.

[explaining]

Ah. So I was from quite a bit earlier. [That explains a lot of Asch's iciness. Guy remembers how bitter and hateful he was before; especially if he's from much earlier on, from before they began to collaborate with Asch.] I'd apologize, but I don't think it'd do much good.

[dissonates]

You'd be surprised.

[He doesn't really mean it, though; he'd never received an apology for his death, nor had he expected to ever get one. Luke deserves apologies, Luke deserves grief, regret, guilt. Not him. Not ever.

He's supposed to be done being bitter about it, but... apparently it's not so easy to brush aside.]

[explaining]

[Guy stops, pulls up short.

Huh.

He pours himself a cup of tea and sits opposite of Asch at the table.]

...Asch, I'm sorry.

[dissonates]

[....

Asch stares blindly down at his tea for a long moment, mulling it over. He's sorry.

...no. It just sounds so empty, when he doesn't even know what happened. When he didn't even do it. It's pointless, meaningless.

The other Guy would never have apologized. Not to him. To hear it now is... alien.]

Shut up, don't apologize for something you didn't even do. It's pathetic.

[explaining]

What do you mean, what I didn't do? I remember being pretty awful to you back on Auldrant.

[dissonates]

[...oh.

Close call, there. Asch lets another silence pass between them while he considers his options, then shrugs carelessly.]

I haven't been in Auldrant for more than two years now. I'm well beyond those grudges.

[explaining]

[that is

the worst lie guy has ever]

Uh huh. Well, all right then. I take it back.

[dissonates]

...Good.

[Why does he feel like he just dodged a bullet that is actually a boomerang?]

Why did you follow me here?

[explaining]

Is that a question about why I followed you like a stalker, or why did I want to check up on you at all?

[dissonates]

...Consider it a dual-layered question.

[Because now that Guy's brought them both up, he'd really like to know what the hell this is.]

[explaining]

I'd think the answer would be obvious.

...why I wanted to check up on you, that is.

[dissonates]

If you're at all worried about me, you shouldn't be. I'm doing fine on my own.

[Though he technically isn't on his own, he just. Likes to establish the fact that he could be, if he wanted. So there.]

[explaining]

I wasn't worried about you taking care of yourself Asch, jeez. I care about you. People check up on other people they care about.

[dissonates]

[Asch mulls over that in silence for a while; it's starting to feel like this conversation is just a collection of interrupted pauses.

That's mostly his fault, though, he knows.]

...You have to realize that I'm not used to you... caring about me. Or even acknowledging I exist.

[explaining]

[Guy sighs, leans back against the counter and rubs his face.]

I know. I know, I do.

I just- [The last time he saw Asch, they were fighting, but they both still knew they cared about each other. Shared something. Now, it feels like Asch has forgotten that or done his best to try to forget, which he shouldn't be faulted for if Guy really was as awful as it sounds like he was.]

I feel like no matter how far we come, together or as individuals, something happens to make us take giant leaps back. Y'know?

[dissonates]

Maybe that's for the best.

[Asch lowers his voice, trying to conceal his discomfort while at the same time squashing his sudden urge to leave, or to get angry and kick Guy out of the house. This is getting too close, too personal. Too much like how they used to talk, and he's sure that can't handle that right now.]

Maybe we're just not meant to be friends.

[explaining]

That'd be assuming fate can't be overcome. Which has already been disproven. [Plus, that's kind of like telling Guy he's not capable of doing something, which has always pissed him off a little.]

[dissonates]

It isn't about fate. This isn't the Score, or any other kind of destiny. It's a simple conflict of interests.

[explaining]

What's your interest? [Guy really wants to know. If Asch's interest is to get him out of his house and out of his life for good then yeah, that's probably where the conflict is.]

[dissonates]

[Asch opens his mouth to respond, thinks better of it, and pauses first, still uncomfortable. He hates not being able to see; it's harder to gauge what to say, how to deal with this, when he can't look Guy straight in the eye. It was easier last time, when he didn't care about the outcome, because- well, it's not like he'd ever make progress with that version of the blond, the one that still hated him. The one who'd killed him.

Now? Guy actually gives a damn, and Asch is having difficulty dealing with that, after spending months and months telling himself that he'd lost something he could never get back.

Months of telling himself he never needed it and shouldn't want it, either.]

My interest is- myself. Protecting myself. If I form attachments to people, I don't want them to automatically hate me if this sort of situation repeats itself. Which is does, often. It's... tedious.

[There's a word for what it is, and it isn't that. But that's all he'll allow himself to say.]

[explaining]

[That's...problematic. Fair, but problematic.]

I can't swear to you this won't happen again.

[Guy's past, his personality is just to tumultuous. He goes through such drastic changes where Asch is concerned, that making an arbitrary promise to never hurt him -even with how he is now- would just ring false in everyone's ears. They know this by now; they're practically veterans of Luceti's tricks. Anything could occur here, that's what makes having relationships of any nature with people so hard.

It's not the physical trials of Luceti that puts all its inhabitants through the ringer.

But protecting oneself by cutting off all potentially hurtful things? That's just what Asch did before, and he was no happier for it. Guy knows if he points that out he's not going to get a good reaction, and he knows he doesn't have the right to point that out anyway. Not anymore. He can challenge Asch, sure, but he can't tell him how to look at the world, how to react to it.]

The only way to protect yourself from me fully is to tell me never to see you or speak to you again.

[A rock forms in the pit of Guy's stomach, but he keeps going.]

If you don't get attached to me again, there's no way losing me will hurt. You won't feel any sense of loss if I disappear again, you won't miss me. Not like you did before. You can even forget me if you like.

[...he pushes back his shoulders and stands up straight, even if Asch can't see it.]

But sorry, I can't do the same for you. If you push me away, I'll hurt. If you vanish, I'll hurt. If you forget me, I'll hurt. I can't do what you do, Asch; I don't know how to close myself off anymore. I did it for years because I thought I was protecting myself, but the second I opened up again, I knew there wasn't any going back.

I let you in a while ago. You saw me at my ugliest, and you still accepted what you saw. I can't show Luke, or Tear, or Natalia or anyone what you saw of me, not in confidence. Maybe it's sick, what we have between us, this companionship because I can understand your hate and you can understand mine, but it's uniquely ours and if you want to forget that, if you have to so you can protect yourself, then go ahead.

But I won't.

[dissonates]

[There are plenty of responses he could give to that: denial, anger, frustration, outright hatred, although the last wouldn't be genuine, much as he could try to pull it off. After those months since his predecessor's return he's just gotten... tired of seeing Guy, of seeing that unabashed hatred in his eyes, hearing the disdain or dismissal in his voice. The obvious preference of Luke's company, the way he'd tried - and often succeeded - in separating Asch from Luke, the one other person he'd come to care for and trust to the same degree as Guy himself. A closeness that Guy had never understood and never wanted to. There'd been so much venom there, and it only served to remind him that this is so, so unhealthy. He knew it then and he knows it now. He can't handle this because he doesn't have the strength to fight back.

He wants to tell Guy to leave. He wants that so much, because he's so sick of hurting, and it took so long to just get over this and deal with it, and he really wants Guy to be the one to experience that pain, too. That would be fair, wouldn't it? To spread that pain around a bit? Hasn't he been through enough already?

But...

....

Dammit.]

You always have to make it so damn hard, don't you? To refuse you...

[His voice is quiet, hands tightly grasping the counter, his knuckles going white. He hates not knowing the future, where this will take them. That's the really awful thing he's come to realize in this place, over the years- back home he'd hated the Score and all it stood for, but at least he'd always known his place, his future. He'd followed Van, and then he'd followed his own path, but he'd had a goal, an end game. He knew the inevitable end, the only unknown factor was how much he could accomplish before he died. Now even death is neither an escape or anything to fear. Life itself is a blessing and a curse that never ends.

This is what drives people mad here, isn't it.]

I can't just... forget you. If it was that easy I'd have done it more than a year ago, and this wouldn't be so difficult. But to get that close again is...

[Terrifying. That's the only word he can think of, and he can't bring himself to say it, either. He feels like he's standing on the edge of a cliff, and letting himself fall would just cause more pain, so why not back off? Find more stable ground? But there is none in a place like Luceti, and he's so sick of being alone, but he can't just let anyone in, and...

...he's so predictable. So pathetically cyclical.

He hasn't learned a thing, has he?]

...what do you want from me?

[explaining]

[It's not a no.

Guy feels fifty tons lighter.

It's not a no.]

We start small. Baby steps.

Not start over, I don't think we can do that, but...maybe I can make you dinner sometimes, if you don't feel like cooking.

[dissonates]

[That same weight seems to ease off of Asch's shoulders at that, the iron grip on the counter loosening to one much more reasonable. Guy didn't push for it, didn't protest.

Baby steps.]

More like if I can't. And Ginji has no idea what to do with a kitchen, except maybe fix the coffee maker.