...Oh. Oh. Again, is it? Something that isn't as it seems, someone who isn't so much like him, afterall. Just like Konoe.
No, this is different than Konoe. Konoe was still from this world, still had a tail and while wasn't born with the curse of black ears, had had them and experienced the stigma that went along with them.
This cat has, too, however, through no fault of his own. Asato doubts, finds the story hard to believe, but he has no reason to believe the other is lying about such a thing. He's unaware of it, but there's a small frown on his lips as he just watches the other, unsure of what to say or how to react.
Too many choices and that causes Asato to ultimately do very little of anything. A shift of his head and he's looking away now, down at the ground himself, letting feelings sink in and start to bleed inside.]
A man wrote a story...
[A human. That was so long ago, though, surely there's a mistake? Maybe the other is joking, taking the fact that Asato knows practically nothing about him just a little too far? (but doesn't that make it all the more reason to believe him? asato knows he isn't from around here, knows that he's different from other—well, not other, but—ribika in general in a very special way.)
His final reaction is merely a defeated sigh, something hurt and lonely but attempting to understand (and failing) all the same. There is one thing he does understand, however. Of course all things are too good to be true. To meet someone like himself, to be able to protect someone like Kagari protected him (and beyond), it just isn't something that's meant to be. And it's selfish, but all he can think about for a brief moment is his own hurt, his own feelings of betrayal (and why does it even matter, he doesn't even know this cat's name) before he lets that all go with that sigh.
There's no other way to react that's fair. Even this isn't fair. He glances up at the other from the corner of his eyes, not yet raising his head. Quietly, his next question is asked.]
...How did you get here?
[Nothing makes any sense to him anymore. Not about this cat. Not about anything.]
no subject
...Oh. Oh. Again, is it? Something that isn't as it seems, someone who isn't so much like him, afterall. Just like Konoe.
No, this is different than Konoe. Konoe was still from this world, still had a tail and while wasn't born with the curse of black ears, had had them and experienced the stigma that went along with them.
This cat has, too, however, through no fault of his own. Asato doubts, finds the story hard to believe, but he has no reason to believe the other is lying about such a thing. He's unaware of it, but there's a small frown on his lips as he just watches the other, unsure of what to say or how to react.
Too many choices and that causes Asato to ultimately do very little of anything. A shift of his head and he's looking away now, down at the ground himself, letting feelings sink in and start to bleed inside.]
A man wrote a story...
[A human. That was so long ago, though, surely there's a mistake? Maybe the other is joking, taking the fact that Asato knows practically nothing about him just a little too far? (but doesn't that make it all the more reason to believe him? asato knows he isn't from around here, knows that he's different from other—well, not other, but—ribika in general in a very special way.)
His final reaction is merely a defeated sigh, something hurt and lonely but attempting to understand (and failing) all the same. There is one thing he does understand, however. Of course all things are too good to be true. To meet someone like himself, to be able to protect someone like Kagari protected him (and beyond), it just isn't something that's meant to be. And it's selfish, but all he can think about for a brief moment is his own hurt, his own feelings of betrayal (and why does it even matter, he doesn't even know this cat's name) before he lets that all go with that sigh.
There's no other way to react that's fair. Even this isn't fair. He glances up at the other from the corner of his eyes, not yet raising his head. Quietly, his next question is asked.]
...How did you get here?
[Nothing makes any sense to him anymore. Not about this cat. Not about anything.]