[ The narrowed look gets little response other than Yu's mouth drawing into a thin, pale line.
Bringing up the jungle is--
... not unfair, and he knows it. He lets his gaze drop, down and to the left. When Minato had begun experiencing adverse effects from what happened in the jungle... he'd blamed himself for not pressing sooner, for not doing more to be there for his friend. But all that would require Minato opening up in the first place, and the conversation they'd had on the floor of his apartment had been stilted enough. He can hardly turn around and keep dodging the question himself well knowing what he'd want if their positions were switched. Since, of course, they once were.
Yu spreads his hands, staring down at his open palms, his expression thoughtful and somehow tired. ]
... I don't know how I'm supposed to feel.
[ This is the truth. He says it honestly, dropping his hands and looking up at Minato again. Now his brow is slightly knit, evidence of his uncertainty. ]
I'm here now. It only took three days for all of us to come back. I don't even remember any pain. Just ... a flash of light.
[ The explosion, he knows. Temporarily lost for words, he pauses, mouth working as he tries to think of what to say. ]
... all I know is that if we'd been anywhere but Cerealia, all five of us wouldn't get a second chance.
[ It's the closest he can bring himself to saying I feel like I failed.
He doesn't say that thinking too deeply about what happened to him, to all of them, makes him feel cold. That's not an emotion. It's a physical reaction. He died. He died. And it just doesn't feel real. How is he supposed to feel about a death that happened yet didn't? ]
no subject
Bringing up the jungle is--
... not unfair, and he knows it. He lets his gaze drop, down and to the left. When Minato had begun experiencing adverse effects from what happened in the jungle... he'd blamed himself for not pressing sooner, for not doing more to be there for his friend. But all that would require Minato opening up in the first place, and the conversation they'd had on the floor of his apartment had been stilted enough. He can hardly turn around and keep dodging the question himself well knowing what he'd want if their positions were switched. Since, of course, they once were.
Yu spreads his hands, staring down at his open palms, his expression thoughtful and somehow tired. ]
... I don't know how I'm supposed to feel.
[ This is the truth. He says it honestly, dropping his hands and looking up at Minato again. Now his brow is slightly knit, evidence of his uncertainty. ]
I'm here now. It only took three days for all of us to come back. I don't even remember any pain. Just ... a flash of light.
[ The explosion, he knows. Temporarily lost for words, he pauses, mouth working as he tries to think of what to say. ]
... all I know is that if we'd been anywhere but Cerealia, all five of us wouldn't get a second chance.
[ It's the closest he can bring himself to saying I feel like I failed.
He doesn't say that thinking too deeply about what happened to him, to all of them, makes him feel cold. That's not an emotion. It's a physical reaction. He died. He died. And it just doesn't feel real. How is he supposed to feel about a death that happened yet didn't? ]