[ To be blunt, now that Ren was doing something to impose privacy Ryuji's making him the bad guy. Drawn in the margins alone, for sure, but if there was reason for distress it was because Ren is delivering it with distance and quiet, the only quiet any of the station's inhabitants would know at this time. On the surface Ren thought of it as protection for them, Haru's faded handprint on his cheek a reminder that these were not normal days and that any one of them could say something glint-edged with poison, something that need merely exist adjacent to truth for it to find a mark and kill.
Small sleights become great. Ryuji'd understand if he revoked his super special all-access pass this one time, wouldn't he?
It's. Not a party he should be invited to.
Ren hums his affirmative and scoots to... make room. In his lap he fidgets with the controller, the plastic lacking the modern curves of today's consoles. Ren lets his brain latch onto small, insignificant details like that to run away in the manner that wouldn't instantly raise suspicion and accusation, Ren wrestling with the utterly foreign urges to both run as far and fast as he can in the opposite direction that Ryuji is, and then another to ask if he could lay his head near Ryuji's knee and try to sleep. Somewhere softer if he'd spare it. ]
M'sorry.
[ About: avoiding you, your moment in the mess hall, whatever it is that's about to happen. Take your pick. Ren will take the empathetic option as is his wont but he can't help Ryuji hearing something else. ]
In public, y'know. That really sucks.
[ He's player one. The demo's tinny music and SFX stab at his consciousness just as the singer of Cheap Trick is following on the tail of a chugging guitar intro to I Want You To Want Me and Ren wants to die. His legs are already half unfolded, the controller laid flat on the floor next to Ryuji and - ]
I'm, m'not feeling good. Don't think I can - [ Voice breaks, another little bit of sanity crumbling like his walls weren't already wide open. ] I can't do this.
no subject
Small sleights become great. Ryuji'd understand if he revoked his super special all-access pass this one time, wouldn't he?
It's. Not a party he should be invited to.
Ren hums his affirmative and scoots to... make room. In his lap he fidgets with the controller, the plastic lacking the modern curves of today's consoles. Ren lets his brain latch onto small, insignificant details like that to run away in the manner that wouldn't instantly raise suspicion and accusation, Ren wrestling with the utterly foreign urges to both run as far and fast as he can in the opposite direction that Ryuji is, and then another to ask if he could lay his head near Ryuji's knee and try to sleep. Somewhere softer if he'd spare it. ]
M'sorry.
[ About: avoiding you, your moment in the mess hall, whatever it is that's about to happen. Take your pick. Ren will take the empathetic option as is his wont but he can't help Ryuji hearing something else. ]
In public, y'know. That really sucks.
[ He's player one. The demo's tinny music and SFX stab at his consciousness just as the singer of Cheap Trick is following on the tail of a chugging guitar intro to I Want You To Want Me and Ren wants to die. His legs are already half unfolded, the controller laid flat on the floor next to Ryuji and - ]
I'm, m'not feeling good. Don't think I can - [ Voice breaks, another little bit of sanity crumbling like his walls weren't already wide open. ] I can't do this.