turn me on dead man

Joseph keeps his eyes trained on Aesop’s face for a moment more before nodding. “I see!” A soft laugh. “Then I was wrong. And that tells me the answer for both… Ah, but even if that’s cheating… You seem excited. I’m more interested in that.” He says this as if he isn’t actively trying to hide the fact that he’s most likely even more so.

“Mm… I don’t know if what I have to tell you is what you’re wanting, but I’ll try anyway.” He taps a finger to his lips, gaze drifting away from Aesop’s face in thought. He stays like this for a bit, considering his options. He’d rather not dump anything too distressing or personal on Aesop, (or anyone, for that matter,) so he would need to find a different way to word things.

He finally settles on something satisfactory. “…I’d say… the most memorable one, that convinced me it must actually be that, was… once, when I was younger. A boy who looked a few years younger than me. One I recognized from a photo of us my parents had taken as a formality, someone I’d met when we had both been his age.

They claimed not to know what I was talking about when I asked, thoughーin any case, I remember being young and disoriented enough that I came to greet him, thinking he was just being shy, and didn’t really realize what was going on until after the fact.” He hums. “Sorry to disappoint if you were expecting something exciting,” a thin smile, “but now I know something new about you, as well. I didn’t take you as the type for ghost stories.”

“Aha, is it really that obvious...?” Well, it’s not like he was exactly trying to hide it or anything, but Joseph pointing it out is making him more acutely aware of it. Tiny bit embarrassing. He’s choosing not to dwell on him apparently being interested in that, either.

Aesop’s perfectly patient as Joseph thinks over what he wants to say, reclining back in his chair again but keeping his attention focused. It’s true that the story he hears is not quite up to what he’d been hoping for, but he doesn’t appear bored or bothered by that in the slightest. Life isn’t a horror movie ( most of the time ). They can’t all be dramatic hauntings and ominous wailing. The simplicity of it is... charming.

Joseph watches Aesop as he speaks, eyes wide with curiosity like a peculiar cat. If anything, he’s quickly learning that he shouldn’t let his first impressions rule his idea of someone. He hadn’t expected someone so reserved to act the way Aesop has (among other things,) but it wasn’t at all an unpleasant surprise.

What he had least expected was Aesop hitting him with seemingly surprise after surprise. This wasn’t unpleasant either, but he didn’t especially like how it repeatedly flustered him like so. This… was not the state he wanted to be in for his first impression, but what’s done is done. (…was it even possible to salvage it at this point? maybe he should just accept the fact that aesop is now one-hundred percent aware of the fact that he’s an absolute fool.)

“When you said I was polite, a moment agoーI could very much say the same of you right now. But if you truly think so, then I’d be happy to say the feeling’s mutual. You’re very interesting, I should tell you that.”

His smile’s returned, and he hopes at least he doesn’t look so much like a deer in headlights anymore. He doesn’t feel so much like one anymore, so he hopes for this one thing. “And I’ll choose to take that all as a compliment as my last way of bothering you, if you like.”

Interesting, he says-- and without a hint of sarcasm. At least, none that Aesop can detect. It’s such a small thing, but he finds it means more to him than he would have expected it to. He’s interesting. The feeling is mutual. Maybe he can admit that, at least in this case, making friends isn’t totally awful. ( it feels pretty good, actually. )

“It was meant to be a compliment, so take it as you will.” Not that ‘maybe I wouldn’t hate having to talk to you twice’ really reads like a compliment to most normal people, but Aesop certainly doesn’t fit that mold. Joseph doesn’t seem to either, from where he’s standing. He’s far too tolerant of all this; too nice. It would be kind of suspicious if it weren’t somehow working to make him more endearing instead.

“Really, you haven’t been a bother. This has been...,” Aesop has to pause, searching for the right words. There’s a lot of things he could use to fill in the blank, but none fit quite right. Maybe there is no one right thing to say. “It’s been nice meeting you. I’m sure you must have had other plans this afternoon, however, so I won’t hold you up any further.”

@roseaemortis

“Hey.”

Uh, Spinel seems kind of stressed out. She has her backpack slung behind her, but she’s still holding several notebooks in her arms… and multiple pencil pouches?

She’s shifting back and forth on both of her feet, and it’s clear she’s not doing too hot: her tangled hair is especially tangle-y, and she has bags under her eyes and a panicked look on her face.

“Say, you wouldn’t happen to know if, uh– There’s like… an art store or something around here, yeah? Like… close by?”

Oh, wow. Spinel is both an impressive and somewhat worrying sight. Aesop’s not really sure what to say to her for a moment, expression shifting between concern and discomfort. He can relate to... whatever it is she’s going through that’s got her looking like that, though. He’s been there, too.

“It... looks like you have quite a lot of supplies already,” he says, eyeing her backpack and the multitude of notebooks and pouches in her arms. She looks like she has enough stuff there to illustrate an entire series of books. “What exactly do you need? The store on campus has some things, but nothing fancy...”

“Oh? I actually got it?” His tone carries a tint of smugness. “Aha, if that one’s the lie, then I’ll have to keep the other one in mind.” He doesn’t specify for what purpose, and doesn’t seem to realize he might need to, either.

“Now, is that your choice? Because if it is, it’s the wrong one. That is to sayーyes, I believe I have. Not a great deal of them, if that’s what you’re thinking, but…” He trails off for a prolonged moment before laughing shortly, though it’s not out of amusement. It definitely shows. Disregarding this, he continues. He knows better than to let himself think too long about these things.

“But I think if I elaborate much on that, you’ll think I’m nuts even more so, right? So, maybe I should move on.”

“Oh, no, sorry. That one was the truth,” he clarifies, having missed the mark on which side Joseph was guessing for. He should have been paying more attention, but his mind has been wandering this afternoon. In his defense, he thinks, Aesop never said he’d be any good at this kind of game. “I was adopted. I have no food allergies I’m aware of.”

It’s nice he seemed considerate of it, however. If he wasn’t already distracted thinking about ghosts, he’d want to know the same in turn, but that might also ruin part of the purpose of the game. He’s still filing the information he does get away, though there’s no immediate reason why he’d need to hang on to Joseph’s feelings on coffee.

“No, no, I wouldn’t think that at all!” He insists this with what is likely surprising sincerity. This is probably the most animated he’s been in the short time they’ve known each other. He can’t let Joseph simply not fill him in on the details. “Please, do go on. I would love to hear more about it, if you’re willing to share. I have an... interest in this sort of thing.”

@roseaemortis ); ‘ tell me one truth and one lie. ’

“Hmm…” He pouts involuntarily. Aesop was going to be smart about this, huh? So he was taking a complete shot in the dark… Well, if this was the way he wanted to go, then Joseph would play along. At least if he wants to make it difficult, then it’d be more fun, perhaps? Only one way to find out. “Let’s see. …Adopted. Is it that one?”

“Ahh, and as for me…” He leans back, closing his eyes and bringing a knuckle to his lips. He feels he might be too easily read for this to work, but…  He opens his eyes to meet Aesop’s gaze. “I’ve never had coffee, and… I’ve seen ghosts.” He’s smiling as if he’s some kind of hardboiled detective hot on a trail.

“Oh, that’s a good guess. You’re right,” he responds, an audible note of pleased surprise in his voice. It’s a small enough tidbit of easily accessible information that he doesn’t feel too bothered by Joseph figuring it out. Aesop’s afraid he might run out of those to hand out pretty quickly, but for the time being at least, he’s having what could arguably be considered fun.

The argument for that only gets stronger when he sits up a little further in his chair, looking at Joseph with keen interest.

Ohーthat definitely came out wrong. He starts, a little too suddenly. “No, that’s not what I meant at all!” He rises along with Aesop, not entirely consciously. He might just be making things worse.

“I was just confused. I’ve just said I don’t like to lie, and I’m being honest when I say I’m happy to receive such an offerーand I’d be happy to see you again under better circumstances, as well.” He continues on entirely unaware of how formal his wording is, but maybe his lively tone makes up for it. “You made such a point of how you don’t like peopleーit caught me by surprise and I spoke without thinking. That’s all.”

He gives his best smile, though it’s half amusement at his own foolishness and half manifested anxiety. “Honestly, I’m flattered you’d even still consider it given that I’ve not exactly made the best first impression… I’d rather not forget anything, as well.” So… please don’t be upset, is the part he leaves out.

He’s just as startled by Joseph suddenly standing up. Whatever half-formed plan he’d made to leave is temporarily forgotten, and for a moment, Aesop is left simply standing there looking at him. When he recovers, he sighs, trying to release some of the anxious tension that’s winding him up tight like a coil. Doesn’t work.

“...I don’t like people. Talking to them or being around them. I hate it, quite frankly, and I’d rather not have to deal with anyone if I didn’t have to.” Polite as he tries to be when he does have to speak to other people, it’s only a mask for his inner unease. Something to make temporarily putting up with it less miserable. Joseph isn’t an exception to that, but...

“But... all things considered, you don’t seem too bad.”

Aesop isn’t sure if Joseph can see it or not- or even if he wants him to see it -but there’s the ghost of a smile, reserved and cautious, beneath his mask. Sure, he’s kind of weird, but Aesop is, too. He won’t hold this first impression against him, in spite of it not being quite as bad as Joseph seems to think.

“So I’m willing to try if you wanted to talk again. I... don’t think I’d hate that.”

“Is it? I’m not much a fan of lying, you know. Or are you saying I’m not looking in the right places?” Joseph’s tone is a bit coy, but he drops it quickly. Not before adding, “Besides, I’d be a hypocrite to judge you for that type of thing,” however.

He watches with a slightly cocked head and a curious look in his eyes akin to an odd dog as Aesop moves. Once he speaks, he promptly starts on a retort; “Is this an invitation?” before actually taking the note and registering what it is.

Oh my god, it actually is. 

He would like to be much more composed than he is, but he ends up glancing between Aesop and the number in front of him as if it were in another language.

‘I’m not a people person,’ he says, and then is remarkably (to joseph) polite, and hands him his number as if Joseph hasn’t been spectacularly strange for the entire two seconds he’s known him.

In a tone that might come off more sharp and sarcastic than the confused skepticism he feels, he asks, looking Aesop in the eyes again, “…Are you serious?”

Forget regretting it as soon as he leaves, he’s starting to regret it immediately. Attempting to be more friendly was apparently not a good idea. But for whatever stupid impulse made him want to do this, he’s going to dig his heels in. Trying to walk it back now would be more humiliating than just accepting the rejection of it. So he shrugs his shoulders at him, attempting to look disaffected by the whole thing. Under the table, he’s clenched his hands together even tighter, trying to tamp down on the spiking anxiety.

“I wouldn’t be wasting both our time with it if I wasn’t,” he says, and it’s not untrue. Aesop wastes precious little time on trivialities with other people if he doesn’t have to. He technically doesn’t have to now, but he wants to. The change of pace is working out spectacularly so far. “You don’t have to take it. It won’t hurt my feelings if you throw it away or anything.”

Would getting up and leaving help him save face? Yeah, probably. He’s struggling to think of a way to make an elegant exit from this, but might as well get out of here while he still can. Slipping the notebook back into his pocket, he stands up, tucking his hands into his coat pockets as well. Hopefully it just looks casual and not like he’s trying to hide that he’s still clenching them pretty hard, which is really what he’s doing.

“Oh? Oh.” He was doing a spectacular job of making his first impression worse by the second, huh? “Honestly… I don’t know that much about youーjust your first name and profession. Or, at least to me that’s not much by way of learning about someone. In any caseーhonestly, I… do a lot of listening, is all. I’ve tried to find out a little about the others around meーon campus, I meanーbut that’s not much more than names and maybe faces. But… ah…”

He looks to Aesop’s side, contemplating how he should choose his next words. “I mean this in no foul way, it’s just… that there’s a lot to hear about you, let’s say. Not anything horrible,” he adds, realizing how alarming what he’s just said sounds. “that’s just how I learned of your work. Asking you about these things and getting confirmation felt more like lucky guesses on my part, really.”

He pauses for a moment that feels too long. Promptly runs his hands through his hair, still avoiding Aesop’s face, and feeling very much ashamed of himself. “…I’m very sorry. Again.” 

“It’s very polite of you to say you haven’t heard anything horrible,” he returns evenly, not at all surprised or even particularly bothered by the admission. Aesop’s quite aware of his reputation. “But I know there are some... unsavory rumors about me out there.”

Not that it matters to him what the other students think of him. He’s here for a singular purpose, after which he hopes not to see anyone here again until they’re on the slab being prepared for burial. Well... he hopes that for most of them, anyway, but you won’t catch him admitting as much. Point being, he doesn’t entirely believe Joseph hasn’t heard anything foul, but to his credit, he’s still sitting in front of him being cordial even if he has. Unusual man.

Aesop pulls a small notepad from his coat pocket; writes something down on a page and tears it out. It’s his phone number, printed in tidy, neat handwriting. He slides it across the table to Joseph, not meeting his eyes.

“Don’t apologize. In the future... you can just ask me personally instead.”

“…Aha. Huh?” His throat suddenly feels heavy and dry. He certainly wasn’t expecting that. For some reason, the proposal makes him feel incredibly flustered. He said all that he did, and never once gave Aesop his name? …Ah, he feels silly. He looks like a melodramatic fool, doesn’t he?

“…Well, I suppose all of that… is true, isn’t it?” He laughs, terse, painfully aware of how visibly nervous he likely is. He knows Aesop turning his own words against him isn’t malicious, but he’s embarrassed enough that it feels that way.

This wasn’t how it usually went… but it dawns on him only now that this isn’t the environment he’s typically in, and he was surrounded by peers, and… Well. College students don’t typically have much motivation to badger you for things. (…no, they absolutely do, but probably not in the way he’s thinking of.)

He attempts to clear his muddled mind. “Then, my name is Joseph Desaulniers. And yours is Aesop, isn’t it? It’s nice to meet you. Hopefully I can avoid distressing you so much in our next conversations.” The last sentiment is accompanied by a humorous tone in an attempt to distract from his… well, everything.

Something about the phrase ‘then we won’t be strangers anymore’ gets him, for some reason. It was just a simple fact; once they knew each other’s names they’d be acquaintances, and it didn’t mean any more than that. (maybe it was the idea of making friends? but that makes him feel childish.) He’s feeling increasingly foolish by the second, but there was never any going back once what had been done was done.

Oh. Is he... embarrassed? Reading people isn’t Aesop’s strong suit even on a good day, but Joseph is, somehow, still a little more difficult than most. He hadn’t meant to put him on the spot instead, though. It seemed like a simple enough request that they’d both be happy. ( wait, is he happy about this? )

“Well then. It’s nice to meet you, too, Joseph,” he responds, and it doesn’t really sound or feel like a lie when he says it. As weird and uncomfortable as this whole thing has been, he doesn’t seem like a terrible person. Maybe if they had a conversation that wasn’t... whatever all this has been, it might even be mildly pleasant. Which is helpful, since Aesop’s only just now connecting that he’s basically invited Joseph to actually speak to him again in the future. ‘In our next conversations,’ he says. The jury’s out on whether or not the weird gut reaction he has to that is a good or a bad one.

“Yes, my name is Aesop. Since you’re already familiar, I’ll pass on restating the obvious.” A pause, and then something dawns on him again. Joseph already knew his name and a bit about his work when he arrived here. Did he ask around about him before all this or something? It’s not like Aesop has any friends to give out his information. “Although now that I think about it... you already know quite a bit about me, don’t you? May I ask how you found out about me?”

He’s surprised Aesop isn’t upset with him, or at the very least doesn’t seem like it. (though he feels somewhere in the back of his head that he’s just masking itーbut this wasn’t something to think about at the moment.)

Hmm. “Oh, no, that’s not necessary. I don’t know if her family would much appreciate it, either. It’s justーI never got to know her, but I was even tangentially involved in that process, of all things. So… It’s been a bit stuck in my mind, you could say. …I’ll live not knowing. I just can’t help but think maybe I should’ve been her friend beyond just taking her picture, or… something like that.” He pauses, blinks himself out of what might as well be a daze.

“Ah, but you didn’t sign up to listen to a stranger talk like this!” His smile melts into something more relaxed, more genuine. His feelings are no longer at front, which puts him much more firmly in his comfort zone. “Even if you insist, it doesn’t make it any less odd of me, and in my eyes, I owe you. If nothing else, just for putting you on the spot. I promise I don’t usually do things like thisーI’ll make it up to you in whatever way, if you’d like.”

He hums. “You could’ve fooled me, by the way. About not being a people person.” (perhaps he was laying it on too thick, but it wasn’t like he was lying.) He idly takes the chance to lean up slightly and take back the folder. “And you don’t have to worry about being ‘helpful.’ I asked you a question, and you answered. Nothing more is needed.”

Ah, so that’s what it was about. He doesn’t say it aloud, but he can understand Joseph’s motivation, to an extent. Most people are infinitely more interesting post mortem; there’s so much you can learn about a person’s life through their death. But he gets the feeling a man like Joseph wouldn’t share his enthusiasm about that. If he says not to dig into it, Aesop won’t go against his wishes.

What he will go against, however, is this sudden offer of repaying him. Behind his mask, Aesop’s mouth opens and closes, trying and failing to articulate anything more than a surprised stutter for a moment. Why is he offering to do anything for him...? Granted, it’s been an odd conversation and he was put on the spot a little, but that’s hardly anything Joseph needs to go out of his way to make up to him.

“W-Wait, no, that’s not... You don’t have to make anything up to me,” he manages, looking away from him again. He feels way more put on the spot now than he has at any other point in the conversation thus far. “Like you said, you asked me a question and I answered... nothing more. I wouldn’t even know what to ask from you...”

Would it be weird to ask a total stranger who cornered you in the library hang out? Does he even want something like that? It’s about the only thing he could reasonably request, if Joseph really feels some need to do something in exchange. The other options that immediately come to mind are to leave him alone ( rude; goes back to that burning bridges thing he’s reminding himself not to keep doing ) or to repay him by not repaying him at all ( stupid; contradictory ).

* interview the muse

Aesop makes a quiet humming noise, both reflecting on how to answer and struggling a bit with keeping up. He’s not sure why he agreed to play this game with Joseph in the first place, but here they are. He’s surprisingly hard to turn down.

Now, should he tell him something too outrageous to believe, or play it safe? If the lie is too transparent, it won’t be any fun, he supposes. He also doesn’t want to chance telling him anything a little too close to the unpleasant truths he’s keeping secret. Two harmless, unassuming answers feels like a safe way to proceed. Nothing he could easily guess.

Watching Aesop’s face as he looks the photos over, it sinks in further and further that maybe this was futile, after all. He had expected this as well, but having his suspicions confirmed was a bit disheartening. Still, he couldn’t hold it against Aesopーit wasn’t his fault Joseph’s perhaps misguided shot in the dark didn’t hit its mark.

He gives a weak laugh, more involuntary than anything. “Yes, that would be correct. I guess I’m awfully transparent.” He rests his cheek in his hand, gaze drifting away from Aesop for a moment. “I wouldn’t guess you know anything about her, then?” He pauses, then adds, “I don’t know her, if you’re wondering. I simply did a shoot with her a few years ago, then…”

He sighs. “Well, I was approached in request of these. Photos to be given to family, friends… funeral staff, and all…” He drags himself back to making eye contact, and the same practiced smile returns to his face, though he feels it likely doesn’t reach his eyes. No matter.

“Which is why I thought to ask you. This is just my explanation, not my excuse, thoughーI’m well aware how unnerving at the very least I appear coming to you about something of this matter out of the blue, and for that, I apologize.”

“No, I-I don’t know anything about her off the top of my head. I’m sorry.”

Something about watching Joseph’s expression changing the way it does- the looking away, the smiles that never quite reach his eyes -makes him feel... kind of bad, honestly. Aesop doesn’t owe him a thing, but having been of virtually no help regardless is leaving an unpleasant sensation in his stomach. He continues to flip the same photograph over and over in his hands, fidgeting with it without actually looking at it. That he’s apologizing for all this is, somehow, making it worse.

“Don’t be sorry. I don’t mind talking about this kind of thing, even if I haven’t been particularly helpful,” he starts, carefully choosing his words to try and explain himself just a little bit. It’s not any easier now than it ever has been. “I’m simply... not much of a people person, you could say. I was surprised you came to speak to me at all.”

At this point, he seems to realize he’s spent the last several minutes messing with Joseph’s photograph and hastily puts it back before folding his hands under the table. Hopefully he hasn’t messed it up any. He needs to change the topic back immediately.

Joseph hums softly in acknowledgement. “It’s good to see I didn’t make a mistake, then.” He duly follows Aesop’s lead when he starts towards a table. He’s a bit surprised that Aesop seems to be more… amicable, maybe, than he’d expected. For someone who seemed to prefer isolation, he was polite enough. (or maybe just good at faking it. it didn’t matter either way.)

“Aha, is that so? I can’t say I understand why, but in any case…” he maintains a practiced smile as he speaks, though it only lasts for long enough more for him to take a long breath and pull his camera bag into his lap as he takes a seat. He opens it and quickly retrieves a thin, unlabeled folder, sliding it in Aesop’s direction across the table.

“Inside is a collection of photos. They’re all of the same person. What I’m wondering is if you happen to recognize her. Or, perhaps, any of the photos themselves.” A short pause, and his eyes trail away from Aesop’s face. Tone softer when he speaks again, “Considering your line of work… I feel like it’s worth a shot.”

He’s really just trying to be courteous, if nothing else. Brushing this whole thing off as none of his business and ditching Joseph on the spot might be the far easier option, but making enemies by burning every half-formed bridge in front of him is likely only going to make his time at Blackwood more difficult. He’s not particularly comfortable at the moment and it might show in his body language, but he’s making an effort to hear him out.

The file presented to him further takes this in a direction unexpected. He glances up from it back to Joseph momentarily, the uncertainty returning to his face, before he tentatively opens it. Photographs? Aesop carefully looks through them, studying the face repeated in each picture. Why does Joseph have something like this, and who is this person to him? Questions he doesn’t ask.

He starts to feel a bit nervous when he notices Aesop tense. Ah, he should’ve expected this, but it was his own fault. He would try to get to the point quickly, though he didn’t know if that would make Aesop feel better or worse. His hands don’t leave their relaxed hold on the strap of his bag.

He gives his best attempt at a polite smile. “Pardon my intrusionーyou’re the only person I know of who is rather accustomed to these things, is all. At least, I’d think so… You do work within the funeral businessーor did, perhapsーcorrect?”

He’s a bit surprised at his proposal though, all things considered. “Oh… If you’d be more comfortable, then I don’t mind either way. I don’t much care if people think I’m odd.”

His eyes widen just a bit, eyebrows raised in mild surprise. This isn’t the first time he’s been asked about his job, but it is one of the few times it’s been asked without thinly-veiled wariness surrounding it. It’s also not even remotely what he was expecting this to be about.

“Well, yes... I’m a professional embalmer,” he responds, pausing a moment and self-consciously drumming his fingers on the bookshelf beside him before adding, “Or I will be once I graduate, at least.”

He’s done enough work to feel confident calling himself that, in spite of his inability to actually continue working until he’s finished his courses. Being raised into the profession since childhood, being here is more of a formality than anything.

@roseaemortis

He found it was somewhat easy to miss Aesop, which, giving it a bit of thought, was likely intentional. He couldn’t blame him, but it made what he had been trying to do a bit difficult. He had seen him around before, certainly, but it proved difficult to keep track of him, and even more so to approach him.

Though, now, he counted himself lucky to have found him at a quiet hour for the library. This wasn’t something he particularly wanted to discuss in public, after all… An anxious hand thrums against his camera bag, hoping he didn’t forget, and is quickly quelled. 

He approaches Aesop quietly, attempting to greet him without startling him with, “Excuse me, do you have a moment to talk? It’s a bit of a… distasteful matter, as well, so only if you’re in the place for such.”

He’s aware Joseph is there as soon as he walks in the library. For a while now, he’s noticed the other man conspicuously just around him. Never for very long, admittedly, and often without doing much more than crossing paths; nothing that would genuinely arouse any suspicion. He was a little hard not to be aware of, however, though Aesop couldn’t put a finger on exactly when he’d started taking such notice of him.

So it’s not entirely surprising to have Joseph approach him, though he tenses up slightly in anticipation, quietly shelving the book he’d been about to look at once he sees him arriving. Aesop couldn’t guess what he would want with him. Hardly anybody bothers to seek him out for much of anything, the occasional classmate with assignment questions aside. Actually hearing him speak doesn’t clear things up much, either, unfortunately.

“A distasteful matter...?” he echoes, confused and a little visibly apprehensive. How vague. What sort of distasteful matters would a man like this need to speak to him about? How would he even begin to be someone of help with whatever’s troubling him? Telling him he doesn’t have time or can’t help would be the easiest ( and not entirely untrue ) solution, but... maybe he should at least hear Joseph out.

“I... suppose I have some time. Would you like to talk about this elsewhere, or...?”

Hitoshi is undoubtedly caught off-guard by how someone can finally make sense of what he does. The way this guy just gave his piece more individuality, heart, and essence with the mere utterance of words makes Hitoshi feel like everything he’s been doing isn’t all for naught after all. Someone has captured the exact way he sees things and for once in a long time, he doesn’t feel so alone.

But that is a very dangerous sense of comfort, he knows that. If his father finds out that he puts his trust in someone who is just simply enraptured by his art, then he will definitely never hear the end of it. But even with that feeling of dread looming over him, Hitoshi finds himself not really giving a fuck. 

Perhaps that’s one of the benefits of moving out of his home. He doesn’t have his father’s voice in his mind constantly holding him back. 

His new companion’s immediate backtrack from getting too invested in his appreciation doesn’t go unnoticed and he wonders if the lack of social skills is also one of the many things they seem to have in common. 

❝You’re welcome.❞ Hitoshi smiles again when the other thanked him for sharing honestly. ❝Not everyone understands what I do so you’re like a breath of fresh air.❞ He usually regrets everything whenever he lets something personal slip but in this case, he feels nothing but relief mixed with content. Much to his own surprise, he really likes this guy. 

An invitation for a handshake is then offered to him and he doesn’t hesitate in accepting it. ❝Hitoshi.❞ He introduces himself as well. ❝Nice to meet you, Aesop. You know, I’m almost always here every day around 5PM and throughout the night. If you want to see more of my work, you can come visit me whenever you want.❞ 

“No, I suppose most people wouldn’t... So few seem to understand the artistic merits of death; the beauty and horror it can embody so magnificently.” If he seems to be particularly passionate about the topic, that’s because he is. And for once, he doesn’t feel like that makes him seem strange. Hitoshi gets it, and he can’t deny finding someone with the same viewpoint is incredibly refreshing. “But such things are my entire field of study. There’s nothing that interests me more.”

He deliberately declines to elaborate further on that. This isn’t really about him, now is it?

The invitation to come and watch him work, as pleasant as it is, takes him by surprise. Could he really intrude on him like that? Well, maybe it’s not an intrusion if he’s been invited, but... he’d feel terrible if he inadvertently distracted Hitoshi while he’s working, or got in the way somehow.  His brows furrow slightly, unsure, as he retracts his hand from the handshake. He doesn’t want to decline, but at the same time, doesn’t want Hitoshi to feel any sense of obligation in allowing him to return. ( and whenever he wants, at that! )