[ He doesn't feel vindicated, hearing her repeat back that it was her fault, that she was selfish and that she did hurt him. It just makes him feel bitter and sad. Were it not for the need to shield his hair from getting stuck in discarded candy, he'd probably be covering his face with a hand, to mask at least some of his distress. Torn between being angry, confused, and hurt, he doesn't know how to feel. Or what he should express. He wishes Mr. Jotaro were here, to help him understand what to do when faced with dilemmas like this, if he should stamp this flame out, or try to believe it might grow gentler on its own. Tightly: ]
I can't imagine what that's like.
[ He can only try to be truthful — and it's true, he can't know what kind of toll that has on a person. To have fight so that your world is the one that survives. Like most things, it's not so black and white. But he'd known that already. ]
I've never killed anyone... but there's been a few times where I couldn't save people. One of them was just a kid. And I still don't feel right, don't think I ever will.
[ Will that even make sense to her? He wonders if his own plight might seem trivial or minuscule in comparison to the sheer scale of blood on her hands... it feels like there's a giant chasm between the two of them, and he's unsure how or if it can even be bridged.
One precious life he'd failed to save, two parents forced to always wonder if their child will come home... he can't get it out of his mind that there have been countless people like that that she's wiped away. How is he, or any contestant, different from those people? She won't destroy their worlds, sure. But she would, if she had to, seems to be the implication. It's frightening as it is sobering. ]
So I don't know.... if how I feel will even make sense to you. [ He crouches a little more into himself, so that he can cover his eyes with a hand, as if nursing a headache. Josuke makes a genuine attempt to speak his mind; he's not saying that to be disparaging, but because he's genuinely uncertain if Ritsuka can even comprehend how differently a life might weigh in his hands. Lives have slipped through her fingers too, but far, far more have been crushed in her palms. ] And I know you're too deep in it to back out...
[ "Sunk cost fallacy," maybe. He pauses, gears turning in his head. She has no choice but to keep going, or all this loss was for nothing. It makes him feel a bit sick. He doesn't want to talk about the people who's lives has slipped through his fingers, so he keeps going without pausing — he doesn't want to be the one being asked questions. ]
If the wish is real, and assuming it works... then what are you going to wish for? Tell me that, next.
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I can't imagine what that's like.
[ He can only try to be truthful — and it's true, he can't know what kind of toll that has on a person. To have fight so that your world is the one that survives. Like most things, it's not so black and white. But he'd known that already. ]
I've never killed anyone... but there's been a few times where I couldn't save people. One of them was just a kid. And I still don't feel right, don't think I ever will.
[ Will that even make sense to her? He wonders if his own plight might seem trivial or minuscule in comparison to the sheer scale of blood on her hands... it feels like there's a giant chasm between the two of them, and he's unsure how or if it can even be bridged.
One precious life he'd failed to save, two parents forced to always wonder if their child will come home... he can't get it out of his mind that there have been countless people like that that she's wiped away. How is he, or any contestant, different from those people? She won't destroy their worlds, sure. But she would, if she had to, seems to be the implication. It's frightening as it is sobering. ]
So I don't know.... if how I feel will even make sense to you. [ He crouches a little more into himself, so that he can cover his eyes with a hand, as if nursing a headache. Josuke makes a genuine attempt to speak his mind; he's not saying that to be disparaging, but because he's genuinely uncertain if Ritsuka can even comprehend how differently a life might weigh in his hands. Lives have slipped through her fingers too, but far, far more have been crushed in her palms. ] And I know you're too deep in it to back out...
[ "Sunk cost fallacy," maybe. He pauses, gears turning in his head. She has no choice but to keep going, or all this loss was for nothing. It makes him feel a bit sick. He doesn't want to talk about the people who's lives has slipped through his fingers, so he keeps going without pausing — he doesn't want to be the one being asked questions. ]
If the wish is real, and assuming it works... then what are you going to wish for? Tell me that, next.