[ He laughs as well, warm and fond. That's why they're like this, isn't it?
If someone asks now for a name to all this, Ibuki has no answer ready. What he can admit is that he's acutely aware of the gradual increase of his emotions' intensity. Less of a background noise on a television set, more of an ongoing stage as an audience. Everything that's happened here has shifted how he talks, feels, and smiles. How he expresses emotion, how he grounds himself. But in the end, it's still him, all something that was always there.
It's even more vivid in feel when Shigaraki takes his hand and places it on his own chest, the memory it recalls etched into his mind.
Something like a void continues to swirl inside, simultaneously emptiness and weight where the human and monster in him should exist. But as he is right now, he can handle the doubt and what-ifs. Acknowledge they're there and that he doesn't need them anymore. A conclusion he couldn't have come to on his own. The Ibuki standing here right now wouldn't be the same without Shigaraki.
And that's just one reason Shigaraki has become someone incredibly important to him. Someone he cares about, and yet differently from those he loves back in Tau. He doesn't know how, just that Yukinami, Hyuuga, and Yuuki evoke disparate sentiments. So something about the way Shigaraki openly says that throws him a little off center. But this time his eyes don't wander, looking straight forward into his eyes.
With an affectionate smile from somewhere deep down, he takes Shigaraki's other hand to place over his own heart. While they were mirroring the arcade, this time he wants to evoke the memories of their clasped hands that day at the waterfall. Their deal, a promise for a future built on what they have now.
Time to see what of this he can put into words. ]
I don't know how, but I do think of you differently as well, Tomura. Even in how I treasure the time we spend together.
[ His fingers curl around the hand he's holding. ]
And yeah. Yeah, we can. It's us, we can do whatever we want.
[ Truly nothing can stop them now. Something about the thought's weirdly cheering, almost humorous. His heart beats a little faster. Suddenly he wants to start laughing again, an impulse bubbling up like the sea foam he's never seen before this place. And so he does, even while they're still standing like this, hands on chests. ]
I love saying that.
[ Ibuki doesn't have a concrete name for those feelings, but that's fine. He just has to meet him where he's at, living in the moment. Like they always do. This may no longer be quite that island, but he'll count this as one of its memories anyway. ]
no subject
[ He laughs as well, warm and fond. That's why they're like this, isn't it?
If someone asks now for a name to all this, Ibuki has no answer ready. What he can admit is that he's acutely aware of the gradual increase of his emotions' intensity. Less of a background noise on a television set, more of an ongoing stage as an audience. Everything that's happened here has shifted how he talks, feels, and smiles. How he expresses emotion, how he grounds himself. But in the end, it's still him, all something that was always there.
It's even more vivid in feel when Shigaraki takes his hand and places it on his own chest, the memory it recalls etched into his mind.
Something like a void continues to swirl inside, simultaneously emptiness and weight where the human and monster in him should exist. But as he is right now, he can handle the doubt and what-ifs. Acknowledge they're there and that he doesn't need them anymore. A conclusion he couldn't have come to on his own. The Ibuki standing here right now wouldn't be the same without Shigaraki.
And that's just one reason Shigaraki has become someone incredibly important to him. Someone he cares about, and yet differently from those he loves back in Tau. He doesn't know how, just that Yukinami, Hyuuga, and Yuuki evoke disparate sentiments. So something about the way Shigaraki openly says that throws him a little off center. But this time his eyes don't wander, looking straight forward into his eyes.
With an affectionate smile from somewhere deep down, he takes Shigaraki's other hand to place over his own heart. While they were mirroring the arcade, this time he wants to evoke the memories of their clasped hands that day at the waterfall. Their deal, a promise for a future built on what they have now.
Time to see what of this he can put into words. ]
I don't know how, but I do think of you differently as well, Tomura. Even in how I treasure the time we spend together.
[ His fingers curl around the hand he's holding. ]
And yeah. Yeah, we can. It's us, we can do whatever we want.
[ Truly nothing can stop them now. Something about the thought's weirdly cheering, almost humorous. His heart beats a little faster. Suddenly he wants to start laughing again, an impulse bubbling up like the sea foam he's never seen before this place. And so he does, even while they're still standing like this, hands on chests. ]
I love saying that.
[ Ibuki doesn't have a concrete name for those feelings, but that's fine. He just has to meet him where he's at, living in the moment. Like they always do. This may no longer be quite that island, but he'll count this as one of its memories anyway. ]