[But really, has he? Other than the cursory, perfunctory-- it's a no.
He wraps his arms around Mikey's torso without needing to be told twice, pressing into his back, poising his chin against his shoulder at an angle, expression curious. So in this place Mikey'd taken up Shinichiro's mantle, huh...? Already, before he could peel away even, Baji knew it suited him.
And it's... what is it, even? A whirlwind? Baji wouldn't know how to describe it. It's fast. Not just the bike; everything. Mikey's fast. There's chatting with strangers and the howl of the wind and the growl bike where usually there's silence. There's motion, and money, and grins where usually there's... silence. There's a destination ahead of them, which they make it to and begin to indulge in from the moment their bare feet hit the sand. Whereas usually... there's silence.
It almost makes his eyes hurt, the force of trying to keep it all in. The sea air doesn't help, but it's a nice excuse for if he needs to rub at one briefly. It's like the world is bleeding in color suddenly, all surround-sound and motion blur, and he can't-- he doesn't know if he'd be able to handle letting all that in only to lose it again.
He doesn't actually even know if he can let that all in knowing some other version of himself got to grow up like this while he didn't. It hurt. It never stopped hurting. It was almost too frightening to think it could. Because what if five minutes from now he woke up in his bed, in his shitty apartment, with his mom yelling at him to be better, and Mikey was still dead?
He'd take the beer without looking at Mikey, eyes on the horizon where the ocean met the sky, fingers almost tremoring-- just for a moment.]
...the fuck is 21 questions?
[Like, asking things? Okay. Okay, he could latch onto that. Ground hismelf in it, while reality and the sand were both slippery and he couldn't be trusted with his own thoughts.]
...what's your favorite subject in school-- do you go to school?
[That's two questions, but rules and math both weren't strong suits, so let him have this one Mikey.]
... Kinda. Our friend Kenchin swings by the dojo to wake me up, we eat lunch in school, and I sleep all the classes... I guess the one I'm failing the least is... I guess Japanese? It doesn't matter.
(he lives as he'd like. in no reality does mikey imagine himself a salaryman, running for schedules, dealines, gunning for promotions and living life solely for it. he wants meaning, not luxury, and he feels like he's on the right path to achieve it.
there's intelligence, and there's feeling and intuition. mikey might lack on the former, but the latter - he can't even imagine what a shock this might be for the other. he sees the tremors, the slightly watered eyes, and he leaves a hand between them, as if he was saying:
take it. i'm real. i'm here.
if mikey's always been protective, it will worsen from this point forward. this baji is miserable, and he's miserable because of mikey's own actions, and mikey? he'd never let that. he's sure that, even if his brain wasn't working, his soul was screaming watching all that he holds dear disintegrate and fall apart, baji's spirit included.
if he doesn't find the courage to take his hand, mikey will as he sips, casual, reassuring, and with his face so neutral and kind that it leaves no space for the other to guess his feelings.)
[He does take it. He's always been proud, but never prideful. He'd always been pretty sure of things, but never so steeped in his own ego that he could look at something he wanted and turn his nose up-- not unless there was good reason to. Mikey had been able to do that, and it was a skill that wowed him; deny himself. Mikey could deny himself almost anything, which is why he'd never fault him for the childish outburst that made him put velvet rope around a toy and flee from sharing it.
Mikey had always outwardly seemed like a selfish flake, he supposed. But people who knew him knew it wasn't the truth-- he cared about others, he put them before himself, he was always thinking, always doing. Just like Shinichiro, but a little more charming about it; a little more vibrant. If that wasn't true, his slow death wouldn't have burnt them all the way it did.
And he was like that here, too. He'd just suffered a loss, but here he was offering a stranger with his loss's face a lifeline-- a ride, a beer, a hand.
So, he'd take it. Lace their fingers and squeeze. Then take a sip of beer.]
...It's a little embarrassing. I dyed it after Mikey's accident. They ain't highlights, they just grown out. My mom was so pissed... school was pissed... but. I wanted a reminder. Until you woke up.
[He wanted a reminder he'd failed, actually. It was clear in the flat blunt side of his tone.
He knew Mikey was never gonna wake up. Shinichiro and Sanzu were fooling themselves...]
What's your favorite thing to do out with your friends? Sounds like you have a ton.
(the hand feels somewhat like home and none at all. which - he expected, after all, everything him and baji had was so beautifully constructed down to how their hands felt like they belonged together, intertwined. this feels like a possibility rather than a certainty, but instead of worrying, all mikey does is to bring it to his lips in a gentle, delicate kiss to each knuckle, as he would when baji punched something too mercilessly.
this time, it isn't the same purpose, instead of calming it's a silent way to apologize. he listens to the tale, and while it's heartfelt, he can't imagine a blonde baji to save his life, not when his own sported long, luxurious strands of black hair that he cared for with his life.
no need to point out the obvious - that he never did come out of it. baji would know better than he does, and his finger pushes some hair behind his ear to look at him better.)
Surprised you're breathing, your mom would have killed you here.
(at the question-- strange to have to explain this to baji himself. where does he start?)
... I myself have a gang. Baji created it, and nominated me as the Leader. We have over a hundred people. I usually ride with them, we all have bikes and stuff - but my closest people are the uppermen, like you were - a captain and all. We usually hang out, I'm not picky to what we're doing so long as we're together.
... If you don't go to school, the Manji never existed, then what do you do through the day?
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no subject
[But really, has he? Other than the cursory, perfunctory-- it's a no.
He wraps his arms around Mikey's torso without needing to be told twice, pressing into his back, poising his chin against his shoulder at an angle, expression curious. So in this place Mikey'd taken up Shinichiro's mantle, huh...? Already, before he could peel away even, Baji knew it suited him.
And it's... what is it, even? A whirlwind? Baji wouldn't know how to describe it. It's fast. Not just the bike; everything. Mikey's fast. There's chatting with strangers and the howl of the wind and the growl bike where usually there's silence. There's motion, and money, and grins where usually there's... silence. There's a destination ahead of them, which they make it to and begin to indulge in from the moment their bare feet hit the sand. Whereas usually... there's silence.
It almost makes his eyes hurt, the force of trying to keep it all in. The sea air doesn't help, but it's a nice excuse for if he needs to rub at one briefly. It's like the world is bleeding in color suddenly, all surround-sound and motion blur, and he can't-- he doesn't know if he'd be able to handle letting all that in only to lose it again.
He doesn't actually even know if he can let that all in knowing some other version of himself got to grow up like this while he didn't. It hurt. It never stopped hurting. It was almost too frightening to think it could. Because what if five minutes from now he woke up in his bed, in his shitty apartment, with his mom yelling at him to be better, and Mikey was still dead?
He'd take the beer without looking at Mikey, eyes on the horizon where the ocean met the sky, fingers almost tremoring-- just for a moment.]
...the fuck is 21 questions?
[Like, asking things? Okay. Okay, he could latch onto that. Ground hismelf in it, while reality and the sand were both slippery and he couldn't be trusted with his own thoughts.]
...what's your favorite subject in school-- do you go to school?
[That's two questions, but rules and math both weren't strong suits, so let him have this one Mikey.]
no subject
(he lives as he'd like. in no reality does mikey imagine himself a salaryman, running for schedules, dealines, gunning for promotions and living life solely for it. he wants meaning, not luxury, and he feels like he's on the right path to achieve it.
there's intelligence, and there's feeling and intuition. mikey might lack on the former, but the latter - he can't even imagine what a shock this might be for the other. he sees the tremors, the slightly watered eyes, and he leaves a hand between them, as if he was saying:
take it. i'm real. i'm here.
if mikey's always been protective, it will worsen from this point forward. this baji is miserable, and he's miserable because of mikey's own actions, and mikey? he'd never let that. he's sure that, even if his brain wasn't working, his soul was screaming watching all that he holds dear disintegrate and fall apart, baji's spirit included.
if he doesn't find the courage to take his hand, mikey will as he sips, casual, reassuring, and with his face so neutral and kind that it leaves no space for the other to guess his feelings.)
What's up with the highlights?
no subject
Mikey had always outwardly seemed like a selfish flake, he supposed. But people who knew him knew it wasn't the truth-- he cared about others, he put them before himself, he was always thinking, always doing. Just like Shinichiro, but a little more charming about it; a little more vibrant. If that wasn't true, his slow death wouldn't have burnt them all the way it did.
And he was like that here, too. He'd just suffered a loss, but here he was offering a stranger with his loss's face a lifeline-- a ride, a beer, a hand.
So, he'd take it. Lace their fingers and squeeze. Then take a sip of beer.]
...It's a little embarrassing. I dyed it after Mikey's accident. They ain't highlights, they just grown out. My mom was so pissed... school was pissed... but. I wanted a reminder. Until you woke up.
[He wanted a reminder he'd failed, actually. It was clear in the flat blunt side of his tone.
He knew Mikey was never gonna wake up. Shinichiro and Sanzu were fooling themselves...]
What's your favorite thing to do out with your friends? Sounds like you have a ton.
[That suited him.]
no subject
this time, it isn't the same purpose, instead of calming it's a silent way to apologize. he listens to the tale, and while it's heartfelt, he can't imagine a blonde baji to save his life, not when his own sported long, luxurious strands of black hair that he cared for with his life.
no need to point out the obvious - that he never did come out of it. baji would know better than he does, and his finger pushes some hair behind his ear to look at him better.)
Surprised you're breathing, your mom would have killed you here.
(at the question-- strange to have to explain this to baji himself. where does he start?)
... I myself have a gang. Baji created it, and nominated me as the Leader. We have over a hundred people. I usually ride with them, we all have bikes and stuff - but my closest people are the uppermen, like you were - a captain and all. We usually hang out, I'm not picky to what we're doing so long as we're together.
... If you don't go to school, the Manji never existed, then what do you do through the day?