(... what does she want FROM him, then? only hachi expects nothing in return.)
and the woman who opened her home to me didn't do it out of the goodness of her heart, when i was just a kid who couldn't speak the language and had nobody.
... what is it that you want back, aerith? it's easier to negotiate if you just tell me upfront.
[ she does, in truth; shinra has wanted something from her all her life. any kindness they've afforded her has been out of that want. any freedom she's had has been in the palm of their hand— given enough rope just to explore, but not enough to live.
it does take him a while to figure out where exactly does she mean, but eventually, he makes it. there's seriousness all over his expression, he isn't exactly trying to hide it. she might be as nice as they come, perhaps share that kindness that makes hachi so radiant, but he just doesn't know her. he knows exactly what happens when you just dive into a dependency pattern when you're desperate.
at least this time, he's older, more experienced. he'll assess it before just turning his trust to someone who offers him so much.)
[ the problem is that hell is mostly urban landscape, with scant patches of dying or dead grass. the flower patch, as she calls it, is a street of nearly empty buildings: an old family diner, a gas station, a nearly empty office for graphic design, apparently. there's a starbucks, too, shockingly, severely lacking in patrons. the "flower patch" is more like a "flower road"— the enter street is covered in flowers now, save for the pavement. she's been hard at work.
shin will find her there, in the thick of the urban garden, humming as she clips stems at a plastic table in a plastic chair, plastic rolled out before her. she's making a bouquet. the weeds and petals billow in the wind. on the table near her work is a bag from the gas station, and she looks up at his approach— ]
Heya! [ and smiles, before unraveling the goodies. a konbini bento, two cold teas. ]
It's not a home cooked meal, but you can take it if you want.
(it's impressive, really is. he knows exactly the impact the greenery makes, having had such a shock moving from sweden to tokyo. colorful, old buildings replaced by flashing, blinking lights, full of information at the peak of technology (of the 2000s, but still). the greenery that composed what he knew quickly became a faded background in japan. he truly does get it, and it does pull a weak smile from an otherwise rather tense expression.
... but oh. aerith comes with food. she's already so worried about him that it feels overkill to tell her he's attempting his best to now grow any taller - and it would screw over his lie, as well. what eighteen-year-old is that concerned about a growth spur? a swallow, but a bow in thanks.)
That's thoughtful, thank you very much. Would you like to share?
[ thankfully, it's no lie: there's a bag sticking out of a trash can some feet away. in the mean time, she inclines her head toward another plastic chair. ] Besides, I have some work to do. Gotta make sure the apology bouquet gets where it needs to go before sunrise. Most of our work is done in the middle of the night, anyway.
[ good. that's what she likes to see, so with a smile, aerith hands him a spare garden shears. thankfully, the roses are all lined up, and ready for their snipping. ] Be careful. They have thorns.
[ unsurprisingly, really.
his question hands in the air as she works, taking care to arrange the flowers with care. after a moment of consideration, she speaks, tone plain. aerith thinks of the recording of the woman in the alleyway, the one who had told him he'd been wrong, or he'd messed up, and the story he told her... and shrugs. ]
You worry a lot. I noticed that. Really, it's nothing major. You need another chance, that's all.
(he could be lost, but something shin exceeds on is being observant. he simply mimics the work she had been doing, delicately not to accidentally cut too much... or himself.)
It might not be major for you, but it's major for me.
(over time, he'll learn how to read aerith, learn how to trust her... but the ryoko sound is still open and bleeding out.)
[ yeah, she knows how that goes, too. she makes note of his work, watching his hands as much as she watches her's. he's careful with them; definitely the hands of a musician. he's very conscious of each of his fingers. ]
That's no good, Shin. You should ask people for better.
[ clip, clip. the stems fall to the floor. she'll clean it later, appropriately so, as always. ]
The guy who messed up cheated on his girlfriend by going back to his wife. That's the kind of place this is.
(snip, snip, mimicking. it's somewhat relaxing, akin to using fingers on chords, but it still doesn't have the same thrill. it's repetitive - but he doesn't mind it.)
[ this question is getting easier to answer. for a while, it had been confusing to explain, but now? it's easy. ]
The place where I'm from...? That's easy. It's a place with a steel sky, and we all live under it. Everyone there tries their hardest every day, living their lives to the fullest, as full of passion and determination as they can gather. [ here, she lets go of her work, and lays her palms flat against the air. one palm flat: ]
But you said this place is nothing new. How so? ... Do you not get the sun down there?
(too many questions, poor aerith, but he's confused with the two pictures she's painted. one of hope, and one of deviance, like this place, like shin's.)
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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my mom took me in when i was little. just a girl off the streets to her, but she opened up her home. so, i know what it can mean.
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and the woman who opened her home to me didn't do it out of the goodness of her heart, when i was just a kid who couldn't speak the language and had nobody.
... what is it that you want back, aerith? it's easier to negotiate if you just tell me upfront.
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why should i want something from you? i have money and access to all this stuff. might as well make sure someone who needs it puts it to use, right?
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...
...
(eternal typing.)
because everyone does, aerith-san.
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[ she does, in truth; shinra has wanted something from her all her life. any kindness they've afforded her has been out of that want. any freedom she's had has been in the palm of their hand— given enough rope just to explore, but not enough to live.
because it didn't come free. ]
but it doesn't change me.
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(he needs to see how she looks making all these statements and proposals.)
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can you meet me at the flower patch? or is that too far out for you now?
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i'll meet you.
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it does take him a while to figure out where exactly does she mean, but eventually, he makes it. there's seriousness all over his expression, he isn't exactly trying to hide it. she might be as nice as they come, perhaps share that kindness that makes hachi so radiant, but he just doesn't know her. he knows exactly what happens when you just dive into a dependency pattern when you're desperate.
at least this time, he's older, more experienced. he'll assess it before just turning his trust to someone who offers him so much.)
Hey, Aerith-san.
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shin will find her there, in the thick of the urban garden, humming as she clips stems at a plastic table in a plastic chair, plastic rolled out before her. she's making a bouquet. the weeds and petals billow in the wind. on the table near her work is a bag from the gas station, and she looks up at his approach— ]
Heya! [ and smiles, before unraveling the goodies. a konbini bento, two cold teas. ]
It's not a home cooked meal, but you can take it if you want.
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... but oh. aerith comes with food. she's already so worried about him that it feels overkill to tell her he's attempting his best to now grow any taller - and it would screw over his lie, as well. what eighteen-year-old is that concerned about a growth spur? a swallow, but a bow in thanks.)
That's thoughtful, thank you very much. Would you like to share?
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[ thankfully, it's no lie: there's a bag sticking out of a trash can some feet away. in the mean time, she inclines her head toward another plastic chair. ] Besides, I have some work to do. Gotta make sure the apology bouquet gets where it needs to go before sunrise. Most of our work is done in the middle of the night, anyway.
[ "our" is code for "tamamo", really. ]
So? What's up?
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(his hand sticks out, as if he was asking for some work to do while they talked. it feels strange to just watch.)
Wow. Who messed up?
(a moment.)
I guess I just want to understand. It doesn't really get through my head you'd spend money and care for someone you barely know this much.
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[ unsurprisingly, really.
his question hands in the air as she works, taking care to arrange the flowers with care. after a moment of consideration, she speaks, tone plain. aerith thinks of the recording of the woman in the alleyway, the one who had told him he'd been wrong, or he'd messed up, and the story he told her... and shrugs. ]
You worry a lot. I noticed that. Really, it's nothing major. You need another chance, that's all.
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It might not be major for you, but it's major for me.
(over time, he'll learn how to read aerith, learn how to trust her... but the ryoko sound is still open and bleeding out.)
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That's no good, Shin. You should ask people for better.
[ clip, clip. the stems fall to the floor. she'll clean it later, appropriately so, as always. ]
The guy who messed up cheated on his girlfriend by going back to his wife. That's the kind of place this is.
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It's no different from where I was before.
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[ she's quiet for a moment, considering. ]
If you're well, that's fine. But in the meantime, you'll come to visit, right?
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(if he's going to share anything, he's gonna get something out of it, too.)
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The place where I'm from...? That's easy. It's a place with a steel sky, and we all live under it. Everyone there tries their hardest every day, living their lives to the fullest, as full of passion and determination as they can gather. [ here, she lets go of her work, and lays her palms flat against the air. one palm flat: ]
This is us.
[ and another just above it. ]
This is the rest. We call it "topside."
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(too many questions, poor aerith, but he's confused with the two pictures she's painted. one of hope, and one of deviance, like this place, like shin's.)
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We're not supposed to. That's the point of the plate, they walk over us. Every topsider, that is...
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(he's not sure if he can relate. it's too foreign as a concept, but the relationships between people remain.)
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What about you, Shin? Does this feel like this is your chance to be free?
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(but...)
I feel more trapped than ever.
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