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"I got butler, got a maid, and a mansion; the belief is that I'm living out a millionaire's fantasy with phantoms and Ferraris in the driveway."
- Castle Walls
MIYAMOTO TAKASHI
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#CC8016 ; #CC4318
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#CC8016 ; #CC4318
Yseult merely beckoned at the door of the room Honda was currently situated in. "Well, he's knocked out at the moment. Feel free to go in and wait, though. If your father questions why you haven't returned to the table, I'll 'explain' your situation."
Takashi nodded at his maid. "Thank you."
Yseult smiled, something dangerously fond in her eyes. Takashi narrowed his eyes slightly, which caused the woman to roll her eyes and shove him in the direction of the door.
Takashi silently walked in the door, barely sparing a sleeping Honda Jirou a glance as he paced around the room, finally stopping near the bookshelf at the edge of the room. He sifted through the books, finally pulling out a German classic - Die Leiden des jungen Werther by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe. He sat down in the chair next to the bed, flipping through the pages in a bored manner.
Takashi almost jerked back in surprise when he lifted his eyes to see Honda staring back at him.
"You," Jirou muttered to the other teen, his voice rough with sleep. "Why did you help me? I pissed you off, you had every reason to wanna leave me there. Why did you bring me here, to your house, with your family, when I'm the last possible person you'd ever want to call your friend? Tell me why."
Honda's words forced Takashi to think; why did he save the shorter boy, in all honesty?
Finally, Takashi sighed, staring at the German book in his hands. "You're not the last possible person I'd want as a friend," Takashi remarked. It was clear that he was trying to sound confident and aloof, but his words were truthful and raw instead. You're a failure, Takashi. Running away from your father's rejection. Since when did I stoop low enough to associate myself with people like Honda?
"And besides," Takashi considered bitterly, his voice almost low enough to make it seem like he was talking to himself, "why can't I help someone who fainted in some alleyway? Isn't that what a 'good' person would do? Or is it too late for me to be like that?"
That may be what a good person might do, but good people never survive in this world. You should know that by now. 'The fucking idealism of a hero is always cancelled out by how unforgiving human society has become' - isn't that what Aki always says? That's probably why Honda is in a goddamn ditch right now - wasting all his efforts trying to save a mother who, inevitably, will die very soon. He's the good person, and I'm the bad one, but I'll be the successful one at the end of this.
Takashi nodded at his maid. "Thank you."
Yseult smiled, something dangerously fond in her eyes. Takashi narrowed his eyes slightly, which caused the woman to roll her eyes and shove him in the direction of the door.
Takashi silently walked in the door, barely sparing a sleeping Honda Jirou a glance as he paced around the room, finally stopping near the bookshelf at the edge of the room. He sifted through the books, finally pulling out a German classic - Die Leiden des jungen Werther by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe. He sat down in the chair next to the bed, flipping through the pages in a bored manner.
Takashi almost jerked back in surprise when he lifted his eyes to see Honda staring back at him.
"You," Jirou muttered to the other teen, his voice rough with sleep. "Why did you help me? I pissed you off, you had every reason to wanna leave me there. Why did you bring me here, to your house, with your family, when I'm the last possible person you'd ever want to call your friend? Tell me why."
Honda's words forced Takashi to think; why did he save the shorter boy, in all honesty?
Finally, Takashi sighed, staring at the German book in his hands. "You're not the last possible person I'd want as a friend," Takashi remarked. It was clear that he was trying to sound confident and aloof, but his words were truthful and raw instead. You're a failure, Takashi. Running away from your father's rejection. Since when did I stoop low enough to associate myself with people like Honda?
"And besides," Takashi considered bitterly, his voice almost low enough to make it seem like he was talking to himself, "why can't I help someone who fainted in some alleyway? Isn't that what a 'good' person would do? Or is it too late for me to be like that?"
That may be what a good person might do, but good people never survive in this world. You should know that by now. 'The fucking idealism of a hero is always cancelled out by how unforgiving human society has become' - isn't that what Aki always says? That's probably why Honda is in a goddamn ditch right now - wasting all his efforts trying to save a mother who, inevitably, will die very soon. He's the good person, and I'm the bad one, but I'll be the successful one at the end of this.