[He makes a face at the offer of her tutoring him. Listen, it's fine. Classes were boring even when he wasn't a depressed asshole hellbent on death, and now they just seem pointless.]
Sure, you could... but it'd probably be better for both of us to just accept we each got things we're better at. I'll let you handle that kinda thing if it comes up.
[the stupid banter is nothing if not comfortable and familiar. Nothing pressing, nothing world-ending, just two idiots who can barely function in different ways trying to help each other out. It makes the pit of his stomach feel like a void, a bit. Some sort of yearning for nostalgia that can't really exist again. But it's a regular enough feeling that he ignores it.]
Yeah, do your best. If it does happen, we can deal with it then. [Or. You can deal with it depending on the garment. He's aggressively not thinking about that.
Speaking of-- man, all her shirts look basically brand new? He tilts his head slightly, watching her slowly add one, before suggesting:]
You know, depending on what it is, you don't have to wash everything every time you put it on, right?
[ He won't. Mitsuru knows he won't. It's just weirdly reassuring to have someone so familiar to niggle at while she's here. Just like home and all that.
She pauses as she's about to place another of her shirts in to soak, apparently taken aback by what Shinjiro informs her. ]
I just assumed... [ An awkward pause. ]
I mean, Kikuno would always take things away to be cleaned once I'd worn them.
[ You know, her personal maid. One of many Actual Maids that her family has back home. ]
[Okay, that does earn a bit of a laugh. It's short, and maybe just more an amused sort of breath, but it certainly exists. Mitsuru at the ready to assist with functions and matrices and whatever the hell else-- both of them damn well knowing Shinjiro hasn't done anything close to math homework in years.]
I guess it'd be a start to your resume here. I dunno which of us would lose it first, though.
[She pauses, and he'll step up and reach out to just take that shirt from her hand, taking it and joining it with the others with some easy swishing, agitating motions. He might as well participate some.]
Yeah, it ain't bad to. And obviously there's a lot you gotta do more often. But don't kill yourself thinking things are filthy when you just wore 'em half a day or something. 'Specially if it takes forever to dry and we barely got anything here yet.
[Sorry for your lack of maids, though.]
And you're not gonna have to constantly be scrubbing out blood from getting punched in the nose like me and Aki, so don't worry too much.
I've had to build up quite a capacity for patience, I assure you.
[ You know, dealing with Akihiko's impetuousness, having to explain pretty much Everything to Aigis, Iori's... Iori-ness... etc.
Her expression shifts a little at the mention of Akihiko again. She's quiet, pensive... it's unlike her to let that perfectly composed facade slip, but she does, even if just for the briefest moment. "He really misses you." "It's not the same without you." "It was supposed to be the three of us." All things that cross her mind that she could say, that she wants to say but-
Mitsuru sighs. ]
I already told you when we were in the forest, if Akihiko arrives nobody is going to be punching anyone.
[ It's so much easier to just... not. Focus on the punching, the bad behaviour, the bit she can correct. Everything else is just complicated.
Just. Focus on the laundry. Dump another shirt in and swish it around and pretend there isn't a part of this that is painful. ]
You mentioned drying - do we even have somewhere to hang clothes after this?
[ See, she knows you're supposed to hang them up at least. ]
[The brief moment is palpable. Like a mire settling on top their discussion-- the strange lack that comes from having only the two of them here, and the gaping void he can't bring himself to think about that there must be bsck in Iwatodai. It's the sort of thought that, if he acknowledges it, will make his chest tighten and ache, rising up all the 'what if-'s that he'd already denied time and time again. The sort of itching discomfort that makes him wish he could just leave-- run until he can't breathe until he can't be found until he doesn't have to deal with the absolute mess he's created and continues to create--
But they're both extremely practiced at schooling their expressions and keeping things to themselves. So the silence for a moment just sits between them, unremarked upon. And perhaps that respect for one another's avoidance is part of the problem.
He finally pulls his hands out to shake them dry, rubbing fingertips on his pants. There's too much there and none of it can be fixed. So why dredge it all up?]
Yeah, I saw some lines out back. Probably for whoever in the area to share.
[Just normal conversations, just motions getting through the day. It's not a problem until someone makes it one.]
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no subject
Sure, you could... but it'd probably be better for both of us to just accept we each got things we're better at. I'll let you handle that kinda thing if it comes up.
[the stupid banter is nothing if not comfortable and familiar. Nothing pressing, nothing world-ending, just two idiots who can barely function in different ways trying to help each other out. It makes the pit of his stomach feel like a void, a bit. Some sort of yearning for nostalgia that can't really exist again. But it's a regular enough feeling that he ignores it.]
Yeah, do your best. If it does happen, we can deal with it then. [Or. You can deal with it depending on the garment. He's aggressively not thinking about that.
Speaking of-- man, all her shirts look basically brand new? He tilts his head slightly, watching her slowly add one, before suggesting:]
You know, depending on what it is, you don't have to wash everything every time you put it on, right?
no subject
[ He won't. Mitsuru knows he won't. It's just weirdly reassuring to have someone so familiar to niggle at while she's here. Just like home and all that.
She pauses as she's about to place another of her shirts in to soak, apparently taken aback by what Shinjiro informs her. ]
I just assumed... [ An awkward pause. ]
I mean, Kikuno would always take things away to be cleaned once I'd worn them.
[ You know, her personal maid. One of many Actual Maids that her family has back home. ]
no subject
I guess it'd be a start to your resume here. I dunno which of us would lose it first, though.
[She pauses, and he'll step up and reach out to just take that shirt from her hand, taking it and joining it with the others with some easy swishing, agitating motions. He might as well participate some.]
Yeah, it ain't bad to. And obviously there's a lot you gotta do more often. But don't kill yourself thinking things are filthy when you just wore 'em half a day or something. 'Specially if it takes forever to dry and we barely got anything here yet.
[Sorry for your lack of maids, though.]
And you're not gonna have to constantly be scrubbing out blood from getting punched in the nose like me and Aki, so don't worry too much.
no subject
[ You know, dealing with Akihiko's impetuousness, having to explain pretty much Everything to Aigis, Iori's... Iori-ness... etc.
Her expression shifts a little at the mention of Akihiko again. She's quiet, pensive... it's unlike her to let that perfectly composed facade slip, but she does, even if just for the briefest moment. "He really misses you." "It's not the same without you." "It was supposed to be the three of us." All things that cross her mind that she could say, that she wants to say but-
Mitsuru sighs. ]
I already told you when we were in the forest, if Akihiko arrives nobody is going to be punching anyone.
[ It's so much easier to just... not. Focus on the punching, the bad behaviour, the bit she can correct. Everything else is just complicated.
Just. Focus on the laundry. Dump another shirt in and swish it around and pretend there isn't a part of this that is painful. ]
You mentioned drying - do we even have somewhere to hang clothes after this?
[ See, she knows you're supposed to hang them up at least. ]
no subject
But they're both extremely practiced at schooling their expressions and keeping things to themselves. So the silence for a moment just sits between them, unremarked upon. And perhaps that respect for one another's avoidance is part of the problem.
He finally pulls his hands out to shake them dry, rubbing fingertips on his pants. There's too much there and none of it can be fixed. So why dredge it all up?]
Yeah, I saw some lines out back. Probably for whoever in the area to share.
[Just normal conversations, just motions getting through the day. It's not a problem until someone makes it one.]
See, you'll be a pro in no time.