Friday | Post-Investigation

[concasse]

[Sanji hangs out in the kitchen. And for once it's just to hide.

He's not cooking anything, dead silent all around. The knife in his hand is just a weight to focus on as he leans against the counter, staring into nothing.

Eventually he'll move to... fill a tea kettle with water -- not because he's thirsty, just for wont of something better to do -- but he moves like a ghost, expression worn and sad]

Comments

[fragileprophet]

That’s understandable.

[And yet. He feels the urge to laugh at himself, that said. He clenches a fist around his necklace.]

Perhaps we’d all be safer that way. But even now...I’d rather keep believing in everyone.

[concasse]

[A few days ago, when Ion had shared that sentiment, Sanji had nodded along and pretty much given his blessing.

Now? There is no nodding, or smiling. He looks at the other with a somber expression]

... Even so, you've got to be careful with that.

[Believing in everyone is the dangerous route, the one that'll kill him quicker.]

[fragileprophet]

...I know.

[And despite his smile, it's possibly the saddest two words he's spoken so far.]

[concasse]

[..

Don't make him live through your death, Ion.

Please.


... God, he wishes he was selfish enough to ask for it

In the end, he can't say anything]

[fragileprophet]

[As the silence stretches onward, Ion feels less and less able to pretend that he's okay with any of it. He feels that he could snap the necklace right off of his neck, so he simply looks up again, not even sure what his expression is anymore. If it's soft, pained, mournful.]

Don't worry.