( of course rio would point that out, but komaeda has always believed himself a team player unlike most of the people here. if he had to choose what to work on alone — eyes size rio's upper body up, reading his expression — it would be to murder by himself, to use his own hands to help strengthen the hope here. he's the type of person who accepts his own consequences, and thinks everyone else is an idiot for not understanding why he did what he's done. it's always been about their hope, to guide their hand without them realizing komaeda has let go, that they drive themselves to obtain what seems to be the impossible.
there's no hope here when they can't even do that much, and they're too busy blaming others. )
What do you think I should do for them, Riokun?
( his tone weary, but he inhales slow before exhaling. he clears his throat gently, not wanting to wake up any of the book entities that reside her. gently, he sets his hands down on the table to lace them together, and nails dig into the flesh of his skin to leave behind red, crescent marks that he doesn't mind if they bruise his hand. it's a pinch to wake him up to reality, to hear someone else before he defaults to his own thoughts and desires.
if they're here together, then he's listening. )
What has to be done so they understand this sort of living is them digging their own grave?
no subject
( of course rio would point that out, but komaeda has always believed himself a team player unlike most of the people here. if he had to choose what to work on alone — eyes size rio's upper body up, reading his expression — it would be to murder by himself, to use his own hands to help strengthen the hope here. he's the type of person who accepts his own consequences, and thinks everyone else is an idiot for not understanding why he did what he's done. it's always been about their hope, to guide their hand without them realizing komaeda has let go, that they drive themselves to obtain what seems to be the impossible.
there's no hope here when they can't even do that much, and they're too busy blaming others. )
What do you think I should do for them, Riokun?
( his tone weary, but he inhales slow before exhaling. he clears his throat gently, not wanting to wake up any of the book entities that reside her. gently, he sets his hands down on the table to lace them together, and nails dig into the flesh of his skin to leave behind red, crescent marks that he doesn't mind if they bruise his hand. it's a pinch to wake him up to reality, to hear someone else before he defaults to his own thoughts and desires.
if they're here together, then he's listening. )
What has to be done so they understand this sort of living is them digging their own grave?