fukawa's traumatizing backstory has stripped away the last of the "sarcastic and indifferent" shell that jonas constructs around himself. each person is shown a different side of this shell at varying thicknesses. although their initial text string had been contentious and bizarre, which erected that emotionally distant barrier separating them, the facts are stacking high enough to make his opinion skew into something more supportive.
wanting to take her wrist evolves into wanting to comfort her with a hug, but social awareness dictates that despite the wide step closer jonas takes to become closer to her, she might not like to be touched.)
I think you can wring your hands over it a little bit, Fukawa. It's alright to, like... process some of that if you need to. And if this is the way you wanna do it, that's okay, too. (she can talk, because he'll respectfully listen. there isn't much else he can do; nothing is going to bring anyone back, especially now that they've crossed the bar.)
I haven't seen anyone yet either. I've been kinda thinking of this place as limbo or some kind of purgatory, you know? This isn't our last stop, and I've heard a few stories from the people here that only seem to support that.
(in this new proximity, jonas briefly examines fukawa clothing, then makes an executive decision. he will tug the jacket away from his arms, already warm and not needing it anymore, flap it once, and offer it out to her.)
Maybe those we knew who've died passed through here and Ascended... to go to Heaven. A better place than here or back home.
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fukawa's traumatizing backstory has stripped away the last of the "sarcastic and indifferent" shell that jonas constructs around himself. each person is shown a different side of this shell at varying thicknesses. although their initial text string had been contentious and bizarre, which erected that emotionally distant barrier separating them, the facts are stacking high enough to make his opinion skew into something more supportive.
wanting to take her wrist evolves into wanting to comfort her with a hug, but social awareness dictates that despite the wide step closer jonas takes to become closer to her, she might not like to be touched.)
I think you can wring your hands over it a little bit, Fukawa. It's alright to, like... process some of that if you need to. And if this is the way you wanna do it, that's okay, too. (she can talk, because he'll respectfully listen. there isn't much else he can do; nothing is going to bring anyone back, especially now that they've crossed the bar.)
I haven't seen anyone yet either. I've been kinda thinking of this place as limbo or some kind of purgatory, you know? This isn't our last stop, and I've heard a few stories from the people here that only seem to support that.
(in this new proximity, jonas briefly examines fukawa clothing, then makes an executive decision. he will tug the jacket away from his arms, already warm and not needing it anymore, flap it once, and offer it out to her.)
Maybe those we knew who've died passed through here and Ascended... to go to Heaven. A better place than here or back home.