- Drabble -
Player: dreamoflight
Subject: Itsuki Koizumi
Table: B [ Prompt Table ]
Prompt: Remorseful
Mori-san came over the morning after he told the Doctor to erase Haruhi’s memories with a tupperware container full of his favorite foods. She had a key to his apartment for emergencies, and he wasn’t expecting her, and so when she opened the door he was lying on the couch, hands pressed over his eyes.
He scrambled to sit up when he heard her footsteps, the heels of the shoes she wore with her business suit clicking. “I’m using your microwave,” she said, standing at the counter with her back to him.
He smoothed his shirt and stood up to walk over to the kitchen table, fairly sure that she had seen him but also fairly sure there was nothing he wanted to say about it. “This is unexpected.”
“The Agency sends its congratulations for finding a feasible solution to this issue of Suzumiya-san’s,” she said, and then, dropping the formalities, “I brought you dinner. And lunch for tomorrow, if you don’t stay in and rest all day I’ll know.”
“Mm. Thank you.” Mori-san brought over a plate of steaming dumplings and set it in front of him, putting a pair of chopsticks in his hand before sitting down across from him.
“Don’t regret it,” she said, as soon as he had a dumpling in his mouth and couldn’t respond. “You had no choice, and we were all running out of options. You did what needed to be done.”
He chewed and swallowed. “I know.”
“So there’s no reason for you to feel remorse for it.”
The sullen teenage boy in him wanted to shout at her, wanted to know how anyone could see nothing wrong with it-- but he looked up and met her eyes, and knew she didn’t mean it, was just trying to comfort him by appealing to the uncomfortable ruthlessness he had, because maybe if someday that was all he had it would get easier.
“I know,” he said with a half-smile, and she smiled in return and stood up to put the rest of her leftovers in the fridge.
Subject: Itsuki Koizumi
Table: B [ Prompt Table ]
Prompt: Remorseful
Mori-san came over the morning after he told the Doctor to erase Haruhi’s memories with a tupperware container full of his favorite foods. She had a key to his apartment for emergencies, and he wasn’t expecting her, and so when she opened the door he was lying on the couch, hands pressed over his eyes.
He scrambled to sit up when he heard her footsteps, the heels of the shoes she wore with her business suit clicking. “I’m using your microwave,” she said, standing at the counter with her back to him.
He smoothed his shirt and stood up to walk over to the kitchen table, fairly sure that she had seen him but also fairly sure there was nothing he wanted to say about it. “This is unexpected.”
“The Agency sends its congratulations for finding a feasible solution to this issue of Suzumiya-san’s,” she said, and then, dropping the formalities, “I brought you dinner. And lunch for tomorrow, if you don’t stay in and rest all day I’ll know.”
“Mm. Thank you.” Mori-san brought over a plate of steaming dumplings and set it in front of him, putting a pair of chopsticks in his hand before sitting down across from him.
“Don’t regret it,” she said, as soon as he had a dumpling in his mouth and couldn’t respond. “You had no choice, and we were all running out of options. You did what needed to be done.”
He chewed and swallowed. “I know.”
“So there’s no reason for you to feel remorse for it.”
The sullen teenage boy in him wanted to shout at her, wanted to know how anyone could see nothing wrong with it-- but he looked up and met her eyes, and knew she didn’t mean it, was just trying to comfort him by appealing to the uncomfortable ruthlessness he had, because maybe if someday that was all he had it would get easier.
“I know,” he said with a half-smile, and she smiled in return and stood up to put the rest of her leftovers in the fridge.