Matsui's emotions just remain in the same perpetual melancholic state, but there's something a little hesitant because he simply does not know how to explain Catholic guilt to this teenage normie.]
...Because all of the physical and emotional weight that I can carry is still not enough to compare to the loss of one life. The scales can't be balanced, but I would still like to do what I can.
feeling guilty about killing someone seems normal to him; having any amount of empathy would make it unbearable, he thinks. just living life, every happiness tinged with memories of robbing someone else of theirs.
but matsui is a spirit—he'd assume it would be different for him. haru reaches for some small, pink wildflowers. ]
You're right. There's no amount of remorse that brings the dead back. [ even here. ] ...But neither does pain.
[ justice, revenge, the metaphorical evening of the scales—none of that matters to the dead, do they? ]
[It's a kind sentiment, and one that moves him somewhat, in a sad sort of way. Matsui thinks he suffers as much as he deserves to.
Wordlessly, he plucks up a little blue flower and reaches forward to tuck it behind Haru's ear. There's a little soft thread of gratitude.]
You have a kind heart.
[At least, the heart that he's seen so far is kind. All the more unfair that he's had to suffer through such a loss. Rin, he thinks, also had a kind heart.
Life is largely unkind, though. It seems like death is much the same.]
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I know. But I prefer to carry both.
[Sometimes the hurt in your miserable little heart just doesn't feel like enough.]
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...Why?
[ his emotions are—not really curious. more concerned. ]
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Matsui's emotions just remain in the same perpetual melancholic state, but there's something a little hesitant because he simply does not know how to explain Catholic guilt to this teenage normie.]
...Because all of the physical and emotional weight that I can carry is still not enough to compare to the loss of one life. The scales can't be balanced, but I would still like to do what I can.
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feeling guilty about killing someone seems normal to him; having any amount of empathy would make it unbearable, he thinks. just living life, every happiness tinged with memories of robbing someone else of theirs.
but matsui is a spirit—he'd assume it would be different for him. haru reaches for some small, pink wildflowers. ]
You're right. There's no amount of remorse that brings the dead back. [ even here. ] ...But neither does pain.
[ justice, revenge, the metaphorical evening of the scales—none of that matters to the dead, do they? ]
I just hope you don't suffer needlessly.
no subject
Wordlessly, he plucks up a little blue flower and reaches forward to tuck it behind Haru's ear. There's a little soft thread of gratitude.]
You have a kind heart.
[At least, the heart that he's seen so far is kind. All the more unfair that he's had to suffer through such a loss. Rin, he thinks, also had a kind heart.
Life is largely unkind, though. It seems like death is much the same.]