[ he's a. not in the mood to leave when this is still so heavy on his mind and b. not willing to face shuji's wrath once more if he ends up getting caught leaving.
[ honestly baren could come in with a pickax and he would be okay with it.
however!! he will open the door when baren knocks. odasaku doesn't look much different than usual...except that there's an aura of exhaustion, and not just because of his strange sleeping schedule.
his shoulders sag a little more than usual and the scent of cigarette lingers on his clothes. but he's fine, really. he'll open the door for baren to come in. ]
[He doesn't understand!! But regardless whether Oda has whiskey or not, Baren brought sake. Because he's not rude, he got invited to this place so he'll bring something good.
He shakes his head and while he notes the differences, he doesn't say a lot about them.]
Didn't seem like the best conversation to have over text.
[ sake, huh? odasaku's been able to pick up on the types of liquors and their costs. sometimes he can just imagine how much something costs from the bottle alone.
this...is more than he can usually afford. he almost feels bad for making baren come over because that means he had to bring something like this over. but he'll accept it-- it would be more rude to say no.
he walks over to the to the tiny excuse of a living room, where he's already set two glasses and a bottle of cheap whiskey on a coffee table. besides that there's an open notebook with some scribbled writing and a pen, and a couple of closed books that have already been read the past few days. ]
Guess not. Take a seat.
[ and he'll sit down on the couch. next to it there's another small pile of books, waiting to be read. that might just be the only thing he considers worthwhile in his life: his collection of books. ]
[Baren will take the seat when he's invited to, settling down and already setting upon opening up the whiskey and pouring the glasses. He places one closer to Oda and leaves his bottle of sake off to the side - Oda can have that whenever he wishes, no pressure.
Regardless Baren is just gonna raise a brow as he leans back.]
[ odasaku glances at the glass of whiskey when it's set, and then back at baren. he nearly sighs when he hears his issue talked about that way...but then realizes that the other is right. he is definitely overthinking this.
and yet knowing that doesn't make him feel any better. if anything, it makes him feel worse, knowing that something that would be meaningless for someone else is affecting him so much. ]
It's hard to take it all in. Like gettin' hit with a stray baseball. [ he stares blankly at the glass on the table, making no motion to reach for it. ]
But, then again, I don't think there's any good way to accept the fact that you used to be a killer for hire.
[ . . . and Baren hums thoughtfully at that. Yeah. Out of left field. He can remember the feeling - back when he thought that it was fine to have a few haters, but then got slammed with the memory of people calling for his actual death.
What had he done to deserve that?
The shock of it is something - enough to rattle him out of his carefully picked out facade of nonchalance.]
You think that means anything about who you are now?
To say it doesn't matter would be an insult to whoever I killed.
[ the idea of brushing it away is troubling for odasaku, and frowns at the mere idea of doing it. of course, it doesn't mean that he's going to turn himself to the police or something similar, but he can't see himself not feeling perturbed by the memory.
the only thing more unsettling is the fact that the him of the memory was no older than a teenager. a teenager that felt nothing as he discussed a murder with his client. no anger, no sadness; absolutely nothing. ]
[It's probably a little bit Much - but Baren glances around for a moment, before looking back to Oda and tilting his head.]
Who are you apologizing to?
[He doesn't care.
He's almost painfully neutral.
It's not that he doesn't have an opinion - killing is extreme, and assassins have a lot of blood on their hands - but rather it's th same as always: his opinion doesn't matter.]
[ he still remembers the look on that boy's--no, his face as he talked to the secretary. if he had to describe it with one word...it would be 'haunting'. empty eyes that reflected no emotion. that 'him' was someone who had, most likely, grown so accustomed to killing that it had become like a second nature to him.
he fills the glass half way, and downs it in one gulp. the thought alone is still enough to send shivers down his spine. ]
And I'm sure I don't want it now. [ odasaku then sighs, adding in a sour tone. ] Besides, I barely even know how to use those guns Retrospec gave me. I don't think I could kill even if I wanted to.
[ - that he doesn't know how to kill now. Baren so accidentally fell back into his old skills from a time that he barely knows. He doesn't know what to do with them now.]
... you know, I don't think the world is black and white. The other you might've had to kill just to stay alive, or someone convinced you that it was something you had to do.
Persuasion can be poison too.
It might not take away from the bad things he did, but it doesn't mean that he was a bad person if that's what you're having trouble reconciling.
[ it's not like odasaku had ever believed the world could be defined so easily as 'black' or 'white' and 'good' and 'evil'. he had wrote and read novels where the protagonist could be described, at best, an anti-hero.
but in every one of those times, it was all fiction. he had never been involved in any of those situations, unlike now. now he has this idea finally in front of him and...it's a lot more difficult to understand.
but maybe he's not meant to understand it in the first place. maybe he's just supposed to accept it the way it is, and not question it. he's a killer, but he's not a bad person. he's not a good person either, though. that's just how it is. ]
It's tough to deal with all of this. All these memories.
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[ he's a. not in the mood to leave when this is still so heavy on his mind and b. not willing to face shuji's wrath once more if he ends up getting caught leaving.
he'll text baren his address, too. ]
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you trust me with where you live?
really?
ok
[He's surprised - but he'll go. He'll knock on Oda's door in about 15-ish minutes.]
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however!! he will open the door when baren knocks. odasaku doesn't look much different than usual...except that there's an aura of exhaustion, and not just because of his strange sleeping schedule.
his shoulders sag a little more than usual and the scent of cigarette lingers on his clothes. but he's fine, really. he'll open the door for baren to come in. ]
Thanks for comin'.
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[He doesn't understand!! But regardless whether Oda has whiskey or not, Baren brought sake. Because he's not rude, he got invited to this place so he'll bring something good.
He shakes his head and while he notes the differences, he doesn't say a lot about them.]
Didn't seem like the best conversation to have over text.
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this...is more than he can usually afford. he almost feels bad for making baren come over because that means he had to bring something like this over. but he'll accept it-- it would be more rude to say no.
he walks over to the to the tiny excuse of a living room, where he's already set two glasses and a bottle of cheap whiskey on a coffee table. besides that there's an open notebook with some scribbled writing and a pen, and a couple of closed books that have already been read the past few days. ]
Guess not. Take a seat.
[ and he'll sit down on the couch. next to it there's another small pile of books, waiting to be read. that might just be the only thing he considers worthwhile in his life: his collection of books. ]
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Regardless Baren is just gonna raise a brow as he leans back.]
So?
What're you overthinking?
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and yet knowing that doesn't make him feel any better. if anything, it makes him feel worse, knowing that something that would be meaningless for someone else is affecting him so much. ]
It's hard to take it all in. Like gettin' hit with a stray baseball. [ he stares blankly at the glass on the table, making no motion to reach for it. ]
But, then again, I don't think there's any good way to accept the fact that you used to be a killer for hire.
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What had he done to deserve that?
The shock of it is something - enough to rattle him out of his carefully picked out facade of nonchalance.]
You think that means anything about who you are now?
... is it a big deal if it does?
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[ the idea of brushing it away is troubling for odasaku, and frowns at the mere idea of doing it. of course, it doesn't mean that he's going to turn himself to the police or something similar, but he can't see himself not feeling perturbed by the memory.
the only thing more unsettling is the fact that the him of the memory was no older than a teenager. a teenager that felt nothing as he discussed a murder with his client. no anger, no sadness; absolutely nothing. ]
Sorry, but I don't think I can do that.
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Who are you apologizing to?
[He doesn't care.
He's almost painfully neutral.
It's not that he doesn't have an opinion - killing is extreme, and assassins have a lot of blood on their hands - but rather it's th same as always: his opinion doesn't matter.]
If that's what you think, okay.
Don't forget them then, now that you remember.
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[ at that point he finally picks up the glass, bringing it to his lips to taste liquor. it's strong, but that's exactly what he needs right now.
he drinks half of it before settling it back down; getting drunk is not the goal. ]
I just wanna know why I used to do something like that.
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[The obvious answer, first. Though he doesn't let it linger. Rather, he moves on easily:]
Maybe it's the only thing you ever knew. Maybe it's what you needed to do in order to survive Maybe it's the only thing that you knew how to do.
Maybe it wasn't your choice at all.
Maybe it was.
[A shrug of one shoulder.]
It doesn't have to be who you are now, unless that's what you want.
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[ he still remembers the look on that boy's--no, his face as he talked to the secretary. if he had to describe it with one word...it would be 'haunting'. empty eyes that reflected no emotion. that 'him' was someone who had, most likely, grown so accustomed to killing that it had become like a second nature to him.
he fills the glass half way, and downs it in one gulp. the thought alone is still enough to send shivers down his spine. ]
And I'm sure I don't want it now. [ odasaku then sighs, adding in a sour tone. ] Besides, I barely even know how to use those guns Retrospec gave me. I don't think I could kill even if I wanted to.
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[ - that he doesn't know how to kill now. Baren so accidentally fell back into his old skills from a time that he barely knows. He doesn't know what to do with them now.]
... you know, I don't think the world is black and white. The other you might've had to kill just to stay alive, or someone convinced you that it was something you had to do.
Persuasion can be poison too.
It might not take away from the bad things he did, but it doesn't mean that he was a bad person if that's what you're having trouble reconciling.
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[ it's not like odasaku had ever believed the world could be defined so easily as 'black' or 'white' and 'good' and 'evil'. he had wrote and read novels where the protagonist could be described, at best, an anti-hero.
but in every one of those times, it was all fiction. he had never been involved in any of those situations, unlike now. now he has this idea finally in front of him and...it's a lot more difficult to understand.
but maybe he's not meant to understand it in the first place. maybe he's just supposed to accept it the way it is, and not question it. he's a killer, but he's not a bad person. he's not a good person either, though. that's just how it is. ]
It's tough to deal with all of this. All these memories.
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... You're not doing too bad, I think.
[You're doing as best as you can, and that's enough.]
Is it just tough reconciling the other you and the current one?