( . . . spans slightly more than that clip, starting with Junko's defeat of Juzo and exclamation that she knows his weakness, his secret feelings, before continuing to that, and then on to the point where she demands Juzo betray Kyosuke in exchange for her silence. But that's a good glimpse of it, right there.)
Juzo watches.
He'd half planned to turn on his heel and be already walking away, maybe even completely out of sight, by the time Kyosuke was done watching. But his legs are like jelly, his feet like stone. He can't move. He tells himself, as soon as he sees the disgust on Kyosuke's face, when the memory is over—then he'll leave. He'll run if he has to, to get the fuck out of here before Kyosuke can say anything to him about it. Maybe Juzo's resigned now to the end of their friendship, but that doesn't mean he wants his last memories of Kyosuke to be the dawning horror on his face when he realizes his best friend is a coward, a homo, a rapacious vulture who'd circled him all these years under false pretenses—
Somehow, even the memory of Kyosuke screaming at him to stop talking is better than that.
But he can't do anything about it yet, no matter how much he tries to move his legs. He's frozen with the same deep terror that had settled in his bones that day with Enoshima in the rain, where he made the wrong choice knowing it was the wrong choice because he was too locked up with fear to make the right one.
So he watches, his body tense, drenched with rain.
And there's one tiny fluttering part of him deep down inside that, despite the abject horror of everything else, thinks: I'm finally free.
Kyosuke knows. The worst has happened at last.
Juzo never has to feel this fear again. He just has to wonder if the misery of a life without Kyosuke will be worth it.]
no subject
( . . . spans slightly more than that clip, starting with Junko's defeat of Juzo and exclamation that she knows his weakness, his secret feelings, before continuing to that, and then on to the point where she demands Juzo betray Kyosuke in exchange for her silence. But that's a good glimpse of it, right there.)
Juzo watches.
He'd half planned to turn on his heel and be already walking away, maybe even completely out of sight, by the time Kyosuke was done watching. But his legs are like jelly, his feet like stone. He can't move. He tells himself, as soon as he sees the disgust on Kyosuke's face, when the memory is over—then he'll leave. He'll run if he has to, to get the fuck out of here before Kyosuke can say anything to him about it. Maybe Juzo's resigned now to the end of their friendship, but that doesn't mean he wants his last memories of Kyosuke to be the dawning horror on his face when he realizes his best friend is a coward, a homo, a rapacious vulture who'd circled him all these years under false pretenses—
Somehow, even the memory of Kyosuke screaming at him to stop talking is better than that.
But he can't do anything about it yet, no matter how much he tries to move his legs. He's frozen with the same deep terror that had settled in his bones that day with Enoshima in the rain, where he made the wrong choice knowing it was the wrong choice because he was too locked up with fear to make the right one.
So he watches, his body tense, drenched with rain.
And there's one tiny fluttering part of him deep down inside that, despite the abject horror of everything else, thinks: I'm finally free.
Kyosuke knows. The worst has happened at last.
Juzo never has to feel this fear again. He just has to wonder if the misery of a life without Kyosuke will be worth it.]