[It's not a long walk, but Juzo spends every second of it wondering if he might be sick. He hates the old fear living inside him, coiled like a snake in his guts, sending its poison through his veins. He should be over this by now. He should be stronger. He shouldn't feel so choked with terror at this stupid thing, this meaningless bullshit that he knows intellectually isn't as big a deal as it feels. But the fear has crystallized in him over the years until it's become a diamond he just can't chip away at.
He doesn't break the silence. What would even come out of his mouth if he tried? He doesn't know, and doesn't want to find out.
He knows what kind of petal to look for. By now, he's heard how this place works, and that he can more easily find what he needs by using a targeted approach. What he needs, right now, is Despair. Of everything he'd felt inside himself on that day, what he'll never forget is the taste of Despair he got—the first he'd ever truly felt. He'd thought he'd known what Despair felt like before he met Enoshima Junko. He'd been wrong.
Silently sorting through Peromei's petals, it doesn't take him that long to find the one. It's still the most powerfully despairing memory he has, after all. He's never been able to escape it, and tonight is no exception.
Juzo's fingers curl tightly around the petal, a fine tremor of fear rippling though his body. The rain, following their brief path to the tree, doesn't let up. Fat heavy drops slide cold and slick down his neck and chest.
Finally he forces his fingers open and turns to Kyosuke and extends his hand, offering up his own doom in his palm.]
Go ahead. Go ahead and take it.
[If only he could stop his voice from shaking just as much as his body is.]
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He doesn't break the silence. What would even come out of his mouth if he tried? He doesn't know, and doesn't want to find out.
He knows what kind of petal to look for. By now, he's heard how this place works, and that he can more easily find what he needs by using a targeted approach. What he needs, right now, is Despair. Of everything he'd felt inside himself on that day, what he'll never forget is the taste of Despair he got—the first he'd ever truly felt. He'd thought he'd known what Despair felt like before he met Enoshima Junko. He'd been wrong.
Silently sorting through Peromei's petals, it doesn't take him that long to find the one. It's still the most powerfully despairing memory he has, after all. He's never been able to escape it, and tonight is no exception.
Juzo's fingers curl tightly around the petal, a fine tremor of fear rippling though his body. The rain, following their brief path to the tree, doesn't let up. Fat heavy drops slide cold and slick down his neck and chest.
Finally he forces his fingers open and turns to Kyosuke and extends his hand, offering up his own doom in his palm.]
Go ahead. Go ahead and take it.
[If only he could stop his voice from shaking just as much as his body is.]