“Well—” How does he fight against a true statement? “Look, I don’t see you trying at all, so you can’t hold this over my head.”

Unless you were as tenacious as her...

"I share the same sentiment. There's a lot I like about there and people I want to catch up with. But at the same time it almost reaches absurd levels of "too loud". Makes me want to burn it all down..."

Although her calm tone may have betrayed the very real threat of the dragon potentially reaching a boiling point like that.

“There’s not a lot to enjoy out here for most people.” He says with a shrug.

Maybe if you were into learning about nature, or like Dys preferred hanging out as far from the city as possible to camp out instead.

He assumes she’s the former, if she’s willing to hang around.

“But it is quiet out here, if that stops you from doing something drastic…” Which is none of his business, mind you.

He moves from crouching to full on sitting, not seeming to care that he’s plunked himself down in a patch of wet dirt.

“The amount of people here…” He gripes, lazily resting his cheek on his hand, “…I didn’t think big cities seriously had populations like this but guess the history books had that part right. A cup of blep tea makes it sorta bearable I guess.”

But that wouldn't have stopped Mélusine from trying. Or anyone else who seemed to enjoy this type of thing. When one lived in such a loud place after awhile one would want some kind of peace and quiet. Unless they lived there in the first place, in which case places like these were more suited for them...

"Is that why you came out here? Or were you trying to get away from the hustle and bustle of everything else too."

"If you know what they're like and have some patience with the shyer ones, they might come to you if you're lucky. Or if you can figure out what food entices them, even if they won't take it directly from you." He supplies in what he thinks is helpful. "...But a lot of 'em are skittish of people."

He's used to observing and learning about wildlife, having spent more time among animals then people over the years the moment he was free to do so.

As for the answer to her question... which he wasn't trying to put off answering... he nods absently as he watches a small snail moving across the ground in front of him. "Both. I like it here better, with the animals, and the city's too loud. Too crowded."

Waiting.

A realization he remembered having as Dys' life slowly slipped through his fingers. Watching, waiting, as each breath slowly left his chest for the last time. Watanuki had spent the last decade of his life sitting, waiting, watching-- praying for the one person he could no longer have to come back to him. It was his fate to do so, something he'd accepted long ago; to remain stagnant, standing still in time, never aging, never changing.

But he had, here. So much had changed for him every time he was brought to this world-- yet this time felt as if it had more weight than the rest. A realization that if he changed, if he aged, if he no longer waited.. if he filled his days with other people, with living like a human, she would not be disappointed in him. She would not think he'd forgotten her.

He was always allowed this-- to take up space in other's lives, to be among the living with them. He didn't have to wait anymore-- not for this.

".. it isn't, no." It didn't surprise Watanuki how quickly the other man caught on, his expression near placid as the flames before them danced within the reflection of his glasses; obscuring the look in his eyes. The shopkeeper had no intention of pretending that the oncoming conversation would have no weight to it, however; no longer hesitating as he spoke. "My apologies. For some time now, whenever we managed to cross paths.. I worried what my presence might do to you. How uncomfortable I might make you, considering the last time we saw one another. After what happened to you, I did not want to put you through any other painful interaction-- yet I believe I've been doing that, unintentionally. I'd like for that to end today."

It was then that Watanuki fully turned to face Dys after he'd stood, baring to him an expression without a mask; no smiles, no coy remarks, no hidden intentions. It was simply Watanuki who sat before him now.

"I do not regret granting your wish. It is what you wanted from me at the time, even if in the end, you had to endure something horrific. I regret that time-- after you'd died in my arms, remaining stagnant as a spirit. Something that this world should have had no capability in doing to anyone. To watch you, to be unable to do anything but keep you company-- regardless of how little we knew one another at the time, it still brought me great pain."

He hadn't been able to step foot in that room in the shop since. He was grateful that Hanabi and Shadow chose to occupy other spaces-- to walk through the doors there, to stand where this life was lost.. no matter how much time passed, Watanuki was certain he would feel the weight of that day for a very long time.

"But I do not want to dwell on what happened forever. I want to accept it wholeheartedly. I accept my part in it, and even if I wish I could admit otherwise.. I accept that I could do nothing to help you. I do not want to let the air between us remain this way-- uncertain, trepidatious. I've gone out of my way to make sure I am never a burden to you again, yet it feels wrong to continue to avoid you. To live on, acting as if what happened never did."

It was then that Watanuki paused briefly, to unscrew the cap of the thermos in his hands. He poured a singular cup, steam rising into the air as the warm liquid rippled quietly; a faint scent of ginger wafting between the two. Before he began to speak again, he found himself back on his feet; now fully facing Dys, as he handed the cup towards him.

Waiting.

"I want to know you, Dys. Even if you feel more comfortable keeping me at arm's length, even if you do not want the same.. I want to take the chance to reach out to you. I want to hear how you feel-- whether you can accept this from me, or whether you want nothing to do with me. I will respect your choice, no matter what you say. But I.."

After that everything really did feel like a messy blur of strong emotions, from a spiteful, angry, unsettled spirit that he felt disconnected from. A remnant of himself but certainly not one that was fully there after panic took him over.

Dys breathes in, then breathes out deeply. Even though he doesn’t know what it means to feel fear, he still always feels like a coward when facing problems that involve other humans. Now is not an exception.

What is he even supposed to say?

It’s clear from just listening though, that despite all the grief and pain Dys has managed to cause Watanuki already, that the other doesn’t actually want this distance between them. Even if Dys himself continues to act distant. It isn’t a clingy sort of bond that he gets from this: not like the people at the colony pushing past all his boundaries and trying to force past all his barriers no matter what he does or how many times he runs away.

Watanuki is… it’s different somehow. He doesn’t understand how, or understand his thought process.

Something’s definitely different about him right now though.

And Dys has a million questions going through his mind. But…

“I guess I was hoping to avoid this conversation altogether.” He sighs out, even as he moves just enough to take the cup. He holds it for now, letting it warm his hands even though he isn’t chilled.

“You’ve got more patience than anyone else ever bothered to have with me. You know I’ve been staying away on purpose, right?”

If not, well. He does now.

…

But it does feel like they’re too deep into this conversation now to just leave it alone.

“I just.” He grips the cup tightly, looking like he’s actually struggling for words this time. There’s a lot he could probably say with strong emotions bubbling under the surface of his control.

“I don’t even remember much, beyond a few things. Pain. Breathing my last breath in front of you. And then it gets… blurry. I remember the feeling. No pain after that, but panic and anger. It felt more like I was watching it happen from the outside than actually experiencing whatever the fuck any of that was.

And now it’s like some weird dread settles in whenever I see you, but not as much as I feel when I see that building or go back to that ward. I don’t know how to explain it beyond that.”

…

“And I didn’t do anything for you but cause you grief every time we meet like this so I just can’t understand why you’d even want to be near me. I really doubt you even got anything good out of granting my apparent wish.”

Stars. This is not the easiest despite his usual resolve to push people away. Maybe he’s gotten too soft in a way, in no small way influenced by people already cracking his cold exterior over the last ten years. In some way it’d be nice for the loneliness to end after he got ripped away from his friends and family just as he was making progress.

He’s not going to voice those thoughts though, instead continuing with:

“…And knowing I did actually die, I shouldn’t even be here. That should have been it. There’s no second chance, or that’s what I always believed until a certain point anyway.

But I guess,” He gestures between himself and Watanuki, “That’s technically what this is. That us standing here talking is proof of another possibility.”

Before that, his only real knowledge about that possibility were vague conversations about what might have been time loops and contact with aliens that could create new bodies as needed. He definitely can’t say any of that.

“Also don’t turn me into some pity case to make yourself feel better about what happened in my first life.”

Everything he’s saying feels all over the place but ending his own spiel like that feels like the best option, to ensure this isn’t just a pity party and that he’s not being led on by false niceties.

Something he did not want to face, perhaps. Something he'd rather forget.

But Watanuki had not expected this visit to go off without any hiccups. He expected the uncomfortable air between them, the uncertainty in Dys' eyes-- wondering what exactly Watanuki wanted with him, why he decided to come around at all.

He hoped to answer that, of course.. but it would take some coaxing, he was beginning to realize.

"Then I'll wait until you are. This was my attempt at a peace offering, if that wasn't obvious-- I made the food with you in mind. It'd be wrong to eat it without you."

He looked towards the fire pit, however; noting a small stump just off to the side of it. The shopkeeper walked towards it, taking a seat before pulling a silver flask out of his bag.

"At the very least, would you have some tea with me? It's in a thermos, so you won't need to heat it up. But perhaps the fire would be nice to have, anyways."

He removed the detachable cups from the thermos, waiting for Dys' answer before he poured. Yet even as the honest side of Watanuki began to bleed through, there was still hesitance in him lingering; the tips of his fingers lightly tapping against the warm metal in his hand.

But Watanuki was someone that, from his own perspective at least, he barely knew. Even if he had seen him at his most vulnerable, a memory that's vague to Dys now but definitely somewhere there at the back of his mind. A trauma that clings to him.

His weight shifts from foot to foot before he moves, a little rigid in stature, throwing some wood into the makeshift fire pit and avoiding the other's gaze for the time being.

"I'll light it. It's not a perfect solution, but it keeps some wildlife at bay, at least." Lest they run into trouble out here, although most of the time Dys hadn't had too much issue with it. He just hadn't exactly chosen the safest place to camp after ditching his original site in Cotes and mostly refusing to stay in his home there.

He arranges the larger pieces of wood neatly, adds some kindling twigs on top, and crouches as he carefully lights it with a couple long matches.

He tips his head to the side as he watches flames dance to life slowly as he works, then side eyes Watanuki with his brows furrowed now instead. He's got tea of his own that he could brew, but not made out of anything he'd want to feed someone else.

But before he can ask what type Watanuki has brought along, he's distracted by the continued conversation at which point he can't hold back his deepened frown.

"This isn't a casual visit." Dys mumbles at first, stretching out before standing up. "...Whatever this is about, I'd rather get it over with now then delay it. I don't want to have to dance around anything or feel like I'm walking on eggshells." Voice still quiet, but at least properly audible now. He's definitely not fully above avoidance still considering how long he'd lasted without contact with people he knew from here, but he also knows realistically it'll get him nowhere at a certain point, even if he feels like his whole body is screaming at him to run away by this point. To put distance between himself and... this. To put a stop to it before he ends up hurting someone who seems to care in the same way he'd unintentionally hurt people countless times before.

His brows furrow at the thought. Again his mind wanders to the state of things in his absence. “Such work, seen as art rather than a brand, is audacious. Yet a view I welcome!”

"That's fucked up." He says bluntly, pressing his fingers firmly into his arms where he's crossed them again. "Tattoos are art. Anyone should be able to have them, instead of it being used as a way to single a group out."

Then he exhales deeply, trying to settle himself before he answers the actual question the other has asked. If it hadn't been brought up, Dys probably wouldn't have even remembered to introduce himself at all.

Watanuki couldn't be certain, of course. He couldn't see into the tent just beyond his reach, but he dared not take a step further, just in case he was. The point of his visit certainly wasn't to scare him away, so he'd continue to stand there in the silence; until a faint rustling caught both the shopkeeper and his familiar's ears.

Though something in his eyes brightened, Watanuki's expression remained relatively the same; stagnant, unmoving, perhaps almost cautious. Yet it was a great relief to see the young man before him, his greeting certainly did not sound as though he felt the same; Mugetsu giving off a gentle kyuu in worry, while Watanuki reached up to stroke the back of his head.

"Plenty, I would think," he answered simply, lowering his hand once more to adjust the bag hanging over his other arm. "It's been a while since you've been back, hasn't it? Perhaps you've experienced new things-- I know I certainly have."

He should have definitely expected that too.

Dys inhales a deep breath, crossing both arms instead now as he eyes Watanuki with each movement. Very briefly his gaze drops onto the basket he’s got with him, before his eyes narrow as he looks up to search his face.

“You’re not… wrong?” He mumbles, rubbing at his mouth and nose clumsily in something of an uneasy response to hide the small twitch of his lips that almost betray too much emotion. Some part of him is still trying to figure out a way out of this.

What has happened since he got thrown back here though? When he tries to think about it, it’s mostly a weird blur of things at the moment. He can’t think, let alone gather his thoughts back together.

“I’ll level with you though: I’m not hungry. You can eat.” Half a lie. He did just manage to scarf something down, but part of it is in… distrust is too strong a word, maybe. More like he was simply guarded at the moment. He does point at his makeshift firepit, tacking on: “So… I can start it up. If you want to heat food or something.”

“I guess it does… yeah.”

At least he feels fairly settled on a choice now. Now all he has to do is consider what he wants more specifically rather than just jumping in blindly. Maybe he should get to designing some ideas of his own again soon.

He huffs out what’s barely a laugh.