[he is getting better. buzen will frown vaguely at that, even as he lets go of atsushi with one arm just so that he can try to help to wipe away at his tears gently with his thumb]
... you can feel that way right now if you want - but I hope you don't let it stick. We've seen it before, right? With everyone else who's hurt someone here... Wiku-san, Zuma-san, and the rest.
Saying that you should've known better means that it'd make it their fault, too.
[ . . . he'll just give him another little squeeze at that. something in buzen's emotions flicker, like recognition. remembrance. fondness.]
... I'll forgive you until you forgive yourself. I know you might want me to be harder on you... but I don't know how to be.
I've seen how holding onto those feelings of guilt can stain even the most beautiful of swords for centuries. I won't say it's wrong... because it means you're kind enough to feel remorse in the first place.
[They had talked once, hadn't they? About the burdens Atsushi carries and how Buzen could see them, but that he would wait until Atsushi was ready to talk. Buzen had died, preventing them from talking, but now...
His voice is quiet when he speaks next, and he can't quite meet Buzen's gaze.]
...it's hard. Because I grew up being told that I was worthless and didn't deserve to live. So I always thought that I had to work hard to save others, and that by saving others I would earn my right to live.
But if I have save people to prove my life has worth, what does it say about me if I kill people instead?
[softly, but certainly] I know some things are hard to let go, if that's all you were told but... I don't think humans need to prove anything to anyone.
Especially someone like you, Atsu-san. [and there's something so adoring in buzen's feelings then, admiration and gratitude in full-fold] You didn't even know me, and you told me that I exist and that you'd remember me. It was so recklessly kind - it meant a lot to me.
I've met a lot of humans - but mostly in passing. I don't get to talk to them a lot like this. But... I'm happy I've gotten to talk to you, because you remind me why I work so hard in my missions. You're exactly the type of person whose future I want to protect.
Even if you fumble, or run into hardship like this... It doesn't erase everything you've done to make people's lives better.
[There's something stirring in Atsushi's emotions when he hears all of that. A bit of embarrassment sticks around, because it's always hard to be praised without feeling embarrassed by it. But more importantly than that, there's a sense of gratitude lingering in Atsushi's feelings. Buzen might say some embarrassing things, but he always seems to know just what to say to make Atsushi feel better. And Atsushi will always be grateful for that.]
...thank you.
[For saying he has worth, and for recognizing how much he tries to help.]
I- I'm trying to be better. To um, to not be so hard on myself, like you said. But sometimes it's easier to listen to that when it comes from someone else.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
[He sniffles.]
I still feel responsible for everything. I should have known better, and things still ended up like this.
[He appreciates the support and isn't apologizing for needing Buzen, at least? He's getting better at this, slowly.]
no subject
... you can feel that way right now if you want - but I hope you don't let it stick. We've seen it before, right? With everyone else who's hurt someone here... Wiku-san, Zuma-san, and the rest.
Saying that you should've known better means that it'd make it their fault, too.
no subject
I know you're right. It's just difficult to think that I can be forgiven so easily.
no subject
... I'll forgive you until you forgive yourself. I know you might want me to be harder on you... but I don't know how to be.
I've seen how holding onto those feelings of guilt can stain even the most beautiful of swords for centuries. I won't say it's wrong... because it means you're kind enough to feel remorse in the first place.
But you don't have to carry it by yourself.
no subject
[They had talked once, hadn't they? About the burdens Atsushi carries and how Buzen could see them, but that he would wait until Atsushi was ready to talk. Buzen had died, preventing them from talking, but now...
His voice is quiet when he speaks next, and he can't quite meet Buzen's gaze.]
...it's hard. Because I grew up being told that I was worthless and didn't deserve to live. So I always thought that I had to work hard to save others, and that by saving others I would earn my right to live.
But if I have save people to prove my life has worth, what does it say about me if I kill people instead?
no subject
[softly, but certainly] I know some things are hard to let go, if that's all you were told but... I don't think humans need to prove anything to anyone.
Especially someone like you, Atsu-san. [and there's something so adoring in buzen's feelings then, admiration and gratitude in full-fold] You didn't even know me, and you told me that I exist and that you'd remember me. It was so recklessly kind - it meant a lot to me.
I've met a lot of humans - but mostly in passing. I don't get to talk to them a lot like this. But... I'm happy I've gotten to talk to you, because you remind me why I work so hard in my missions. You're exactly the type of person whose future I want to protect.
Even if you fumble, or run into hardship like this... It doesn't erase everything you've done to make people's lives better.
no subject
...thank you.
[For saying he has worth, and for recognizing how much he tries to help.]
I- I'm trying to be better. To um, to not be so hard on myself, like you said. But sometimes it's easier to listen to that when it comes from someone else.
no subject
Then I'll say it as much as you need - I'll tell you everyday that we've got together, if that's what you want. And I'll mean it every single time.
[he pulls atsushi a little more back into the hug, just so that he can embrace him warmly]
I left you too early - so I hope you don't mind if I make up for some lost time.