Kenshin, while relieved the man would walk the other way--had a strange feeling of disappointment. Something like, being starving and seeing a potato chip bag, only its empty or full of air because they wanted to see what you would do. But that had been a long time ago. And it was normal to feel hungry, after all, he hadn't eaten for a while. But this was under the skin, picking through his veins.
"Ah, sure," Kenshin said, though it was the last thing he wanted to say. And why? "Thank you. I appreciate it, that I do." Though using that form sounded foolish somehow. He had already started walking away in any case. Which was good. It was what Kenshin wanted. It was better for everyone. (Except you are usually the one walking away...) There was something strange about watching him go though. Something missing--
"I see you've taken the symbol of bad off your back," Kenshin said. "But is it really gone, I wonder?" Though even as he finished, he wondered what he had meant. Hiding bad-- What?
(Better hiding 'bad' than wearing hitokiri so openly.)
And then phone buzzed. Buzzed and buzzed. She was calling this time. He flipped open the phone and heard the clear tone of her voice for a split second before he jammed the end button. And for just an instant, a white hot flash of hate cut through him. For Salamander who had hurt others in his own quest for self worth, for this city and the drugs that pumped through its street like diseased blood, for the world. One war or a hundred, nothing ever really changed.
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Date: 2012-05-03 07:13 am (UTC)"Ah, sure," Kenshin said, though it was the last thing he wanted to say. And why? "Thank you. I appreciate it, that I do." Though using that form sounded foolish somehow. He had already started walking away in any case. Which was good. It was what Kenshin wanted. It was better for everyone. (Except you are usually the one walking away...) There was something strange about watching him go though. Something missing--
"I see you've taken the symbol of bad off your back," Kenshin said. "But is it really gone, I wonder?" Though even as he finished, he wondered what he had meant. Hiding bad-- What?
(Better hiding 'bad' than wearing hitokiri so openly.)
And then phone buzzed. Buzzed and buzzed. She was calling this time. He flipped open the phone and heard the clear tone of her voice for a split second before he jammed the end button. And for just an instant, a white hot flash of hate cut through him. For Salamander who had hurt others in his own quest for self worth, for this city and the drugs that pumped through its street like diseased blood, for the world. One war or a hundred, nothing ever really changed.