It's like waiting for the other shoe to drop when Rin starts speaking. Haru wishes it wasn't, but after what's happened, he can't believe that "fun" will be the start and end of this talk that Rin needs to have with him.
Still, he'd liked to have felt something when it came to the two of them talking this way. Something besides this resignation: no, of course Rin doesn't understand. Him and all the rest, all chiming the same single note like they expect Haru to have something to say back. It's almost predictable by now. But what do you say to an E♭? It's not a question...so how is he supposed to answer?
This is just the same imperative he's hearing constantly on all sides, now coming from Rin who has, it seems, come here just to say it, confirm himself in chorus with all the rest. It leaves Haru feeling a little more isolated each time, and it sort of hurts. He knows the feeling without being able to quite identify its precise justification. Rin is Rin. He's always known what he wants, always known where he was going, and he's still going there. Every part of him has always been heading towards it, and Haru is just, over the past few months, coming to see that he was only ever a speedbump along the way. It's his own fault for having thought he was something else.
Even in the years when Rin seemed so stuck and the whole pivot of Haru's world sometimes seemed to turn on him--on what he needed to do not to stand across Rin's path--Haru had never really thought of himself as just an obstacle to be cleared away.
He's supposed to say something here, Haru knows. Instead, he finds that he's discovered a shadow on the wall to his left which conveniently demands his attention. Maybe if he doesn't answer, Rin will get frustrated and give up and just go.
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Still, he'd liked to have felt something when it came to the two of them talking this way. Something besides this resignation: no, of course Rin doesn't understand. Him and all the rest, all chiming the same single note like they expect Haru to have something to say back. It's almost predictable by now. But what do you say to an E♭? It's not a question...so how is he supposed to answer?
This is just the same imperative he's hearing constantly on all sides, now coming from Rin who has, it seems, come here just to say it, confirm himself in chorus with all the rest. It leaves Haru feeling a little more isolated each time, and it sort of hurts. He knows the feeling without being able to quite identify its precise justification. Rin is Rin. He's always known what he wants, always known where he was going, and he's still going there. Every part of him has always been heading towards it, and Haru is just, over the past few months, coming to see that he was only ever a speedbump along the way. It's his own fault for having thought he was something else.
Even in the years when Rin seemed so stuck and the whole pivot of Haru's world sometimes seemed to turn on him--on what he needed to do not to stand across Rin's path--Haru had never really thought of himself as just an obstacle to be cleared away.
He's supposed to say something here, Haru knows. Instead, he finds that he's discovered a shadow on the wall to his left which conveniently demands his attention. Maybe if he doesn't answer, Rin will get frustrated and give up and just go.