#animatorprotector

He doesn’t like it when the Imposter watches him work.He doesn’t like it when anyone watches him. Unless he’s previewing the completed frames or making the final tweaks, an audience is more of a burden than anything — even if it’s just an audience of one. Like this particular peanut gallery.

     ( MITARAIKUN—! ehehe, is this a hentai?        where are the clothes! )                    — IT’S CALLED A BASE, THESE ARE GUIDELINES, OKAY.

     ( MITARAII—KUN, where are the colors…?        haha, did you forget…? )                    — I’M NOT DONE YET, BE PATIENT, IT TAKES TIME TO DO THIS.

Even though the Imposter hadn’t asked any of those questions, that was pretty much how most of Ryouta’s past experiences with viewers went. All of them ignorant, all of them unappreciative. Senseless question after question, teasing, prodding, meddling… Offering their own ideas which, even if he could never reject them head-on, were always awful. Animation isn’t something you should joke around with.

The Imposter is different though, and even though Ryouta expected “different,” it’s no less uncomfortable. If anything, having the Imposter looming over him — even if they aren’t that close — is even more suffocating. Maybe because whenever Ryouta makes eye contact with them, they’re not looking at the screen like the other people Ryouta knew did. They’re not looking at the half-finished animation, they’re not looking at the sketch-only layers, they’re not looking at the random boxes and guides Ryouta has set up. No matter what’s on the screen, how interesting or ugly it may be, every time Ryouta looks at the Imposter, the other is ALWAYS looking at him.

It’s because of their talent, Ryouta thinks. The more they observe, the better they get at it.

Hah, that’s rich. As if it could be anything more than just the Imposter trying to strengthen their repertoire of Mitarai Ryouta’s body language. That’s it. That’s why they’re always staring so intently, that’s why they’re always watching, rarely interjecting. That’s why their eyes always seem to be drawn to Ryouta. That’s all there is. It’s purely for benefits. They get an identity, I get to work on my anime.

And yet the thought still kindles something bitter in him. He has no right to be frustrated or upset, and yet the idea of the Imposter just observing his body habits, constantly analyzing them, constantly picking them apart to duplicate… It sets him on edge. Perhaps Mitarai won’t act on it — not explicitly, he knows that much — but every now and then, he finds himself trying to mess with his patterns. Tap his foot instead of drumming his fingers. Lean his face against his right arm instead of his left. Subtle things with no purpose at all asides from childish spite. This isn’t normal at all.

And although Mitarai Ryouta already knows the “purely for benefits” terms of this relationship, as he focuses his attention again on the computer screen, still tapping his foot despite the discomfort it bring, still avoiding eye contact … he can’t ignore it when two larger hands come out to encompass his own.

                         “Mitaraikun … It’s time for dinner.” ( Take a break. )

They say it gently. Too gentle for someone who is simply here to find some useless nobody to pretend to be. Too gentle for someone who’s just observing without feeling. Too gentle for … Ah, the thought of being observed to have each terrible thing about him dissected was bad enough. But this…? A….haa… It’s just for the sake of convenience, it’s nothing but a—

The Imposter’s hands feel warm and reassuring against his, and yet Ryouta still pulls away with a little more force than he should have. He can’t help it. He hasn’t slept in a while, he hasn’t relaxed in a while, he hasn’t done anything but move from this spot in a while.  ( That’s not an excuse though. )

“I’m kind of busy right now…” He meant to sound curt, but his voice comes out softer than expected. Still short, but soft. Quiet. “…Eat without me if you want.”