[ There's a few things that Ryo doesn't quite get.
It isn't to say he doesn't understand it, but there's a significant chasm between observation and experience. Humans cry for a plethora of reasons. They cry when they're happy, when they're sad, when they're scared — crying is a reflex, an adaptation to reduce bodily stress. In the end, it was all chemical reaction, a possible point of bonding. And so for Ryo, who had never been given the opportunity to learn in this way and had never felt there was a point, tears weren't something he'd ever shed. Even if, time and again, Akira would insist that he had always been upset too.
When Ryuji suddenly starts sobbing across the table, unsurprisingly, it doesn't bother him. Akira had been worse when they were children. Occasionally, Ryo would predict it before it ever happened at all. The singing is a little peculiar, but many things were. And for Ryo, where edging into day four doesn't feel too detrimental (yet), he's only a little slower to lift his head than usual from where he was focused on his own meal (if you could call it that).
Someone else would probably offer a comforting word. But, Ryo has never been that person unless the person placed before him was Akira Fudo. Typically, he'd have ignored the wailing outright or let someone else handle it.
That he pushes a small stack of napkins across the table to Ryuji without saying anything at all, therefore, is more than anyone else (well, most anyone else) would have expected of him.
day four... im so sorry
It isn't to say he doesn't understand it, but there's a significant chasm between observation and experience. Humans cry for a plethora of reasons. They cry when they're happy, when they're sad, when they're scared — crying is a reflex, an adaptation to reduce bodily stress. In the end, it was all chemical reaction, a possible point of bonding. And so for Ryo, who had never been given the opportunity to learn in this way and had never felt there was a point, tears weren't something he'd ever shed. Even if, time and again, Akira would insist that he had always been upset too.
When Ryuji suddenly starts sobbing across the table, unsurprisingly, it doesn't bother him. Akira had been worse when they were children. Occasionally, Ryo would predict it before it ever happened at all. The singing is a little peculiar, but many things were. And for Ryo, where edging into day four doesn't feel too detrimental (yet), he's only a little slower to lift his head than usual from where he was focused on his own meal (if you could call it that).
Someone else would probably offer a comforting word. But, Ryo has never been that person unless the person placed before him was Akira Fudo. Typically, he'd have ignored the wailing outright or let someone else handle it.
That he pushes a small stack of napkins across the table to Ryuji without saying anything at all, therefore, is more than anyone else (well, most anyone else) would have expected of him.
Congratulations? ]