[And Tetsuo? Tetsuo just laughs. Somehow it's the funniest thing in the world that for all the things he's done, it's what he didn't mean to do that got him anywhere. For all the things that've happened, it's a rogue door that manages to take Ken down. And unlike after the swear-in, unlike during his recovery, here he is, fine, standing over the kid who isn't.
There's some justice to this.
He doesn't even move to follow it up, just soaks up the sight for a while. It's funny - isn't this funny? Maybe closer to weird than genuinely hilarious, but who's counting?
It feels good to get to laugh about something, just to be able to get the last laugh in. He can't hear how hollow it sounds now; if it was played back to back to when he laughed at Ken for more harmless reasons it wouldn't sound the same at all.
[A long time ago, something much more mild than this would've been enough to make Ken explode. There would have been anger, there would have been retaliation. Hell, he would never have trusted Tetsuo under the same room as him. The fact that he has so stubbornly stayed by his side through everything is a testament to the changes that have happened in Ken's heart.
A change that, he thinks somewhere in the calm part of his mind, that he can stick to even now.
There's a wobble to his stance as he pushes himself to his feet. The impact sliced his finger open so there's some blood trickling down his hand, and he should wash it. He doesn't want to get blood on the floor. There's no anger toward Tetsuo even if he's laughing, and when he looks at him again, it's still calm. Quiet.]
... You've gotten a lot better at controlling that.
By now, Tetsuo ought to have learned better than to expect anything from Ken - he never did anything predictably. It didn't matter if Tetsuo tried to understand him or not; the result was always the same. Tetsuo blinks at the comment, confusion flicking into place before annoyance settles behind it.
What, was the kid mocking him back? He's bleeding and that's what he says? But he doesn't really want to admit he didn't mean to do that. This kid... agfklh!!!]
You wanna see? I can show you how much I've improved...
[Ken's face is pale, and there's some gross-feeling sweat trickling down now, but he steps back to the counter, reaching for the sink so he can run some cold water over the cuts.]
[Tetsuo's clearly expecting the opposite reaction; his face already primed to contort back into a sneer. The expression only gets halfway on his face before it forgets what it was doing there and hangs there in a twisted amalgamation of confusion.]
I don't believe this. You for real...?
[Why the hell isn't he afraid? His hand looks like it's in rough shape, and all he does is calmly wash it off and ask for more? What is WITH this kid? He thought for sure he had him - hell, he was crying just a moment ago, so why?
But he doesn't ask that. Instead, he squares his shoulders and smirks at him, letting the situation fall back into place as he wants it.]
I'm only gonna show you once-
[His eyes roam around, looking for options. An idea twists itself into a leer across his face as his eyes light on the fridge - then lessens as a stray bottle finishes its journey across the floor and bumps into his foot.
He looks down, raising it into the air to get a look at it. Ken's written his name there, in the kind of infuriatingly neat handwriting that no one with any self respect has. And suddenly, true inspiration replaces his idea to sacrifice the fridge earlier. He holds it up in his mind, letting it float perfectly still in the air, feeling its weight pull against his head.
His power wraps tighter and tighter around it. It's hard to do. It would be so much easier to throw the thing now, shatter it and be done with all of this. But the brat agreed to a demonstration, and that's exactly what he'll get - every fucking reason to not underestimate him. It's not enough to hurt the kid. He wants fear. And if he's agreeing, he's not afraid enough...]
-so PAY ATTENTION!
[The bottle shatters with a hard flex of his mind, contents scattering in all directions. He lets the liquid go where it will, catching and holding as many pieces of glass as he can instead. That's easier; he already had hold of the entire bottle before. Not every piece, but a significant amount of them hang like glittering snowflakes between the two of them in a perfect portrait of an explosion.
Already, his head's protesting from the painful amounts of focus his stunt calls for, casting a vague haze across his perception of everything else. Or is it anger doing that...? He ignores that, holds it there longer. When he tries, really tries, and remembers to try... look what he can do.
That, he doesn't need to say as his eyes lock back onto Amada, is a small fraction of what he can do. That could be you.
The glass falls to the ground as Tetsuo turns to storm out.]
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no subject
There's some justice to this.
He doesn't even move to follow it up, just soaks up the sight for a while. It's funny - isn't this funny? Maybe closer to weird than genuinely hilarious, but who's counting?
It feels good to get to laugh about something, just to be able to get the last laugh in. He can't hear how hollow it sounds now; if it was played back to back to when he laughed at Ken for more harmless reasons it wouldn't sound the same at all.
And if he could, he wouldn't care.]
no subject
A change that, he thinks somewhere in the calm part of his mind, that he can stick to even now.
There's a wobble to his stance as he pushes himself to his feet. The impact sliced his finger open so there's some blood trickling down his hand, and he should wash it. He doesn't want to get blood on the floor. There's no anger toward Tetsuo even if he's laughing, and when he looks at him again, it's still calm. Quiet.]
... You've gotten a lot better at controlling that.
no subject
By now, Tetsuo ought to have learned better than to expect anything from Ken - he never did anything predictably. It didn't matter if Tetsuo tried to understand him or not; the result was always the same. Tetsuo blinks at the comment, confusion flicking into place before annoyance settles behind it.
What, was the kid mocking him back? He's bleeding and that's what he says? But he doesn't really want to admit he didn't mean to do that. This kid... agfklh!!!]
You wanna see? I can show you how much I've improved...
no subject
... Sure.
[Ken's face is pale, and there's some gross-feeling sweat trickling down now, but he steps back to the counter, reaching for the sink so he can run some cold water over the cuts.]
Why not?
no subject
I don't believe this. You for real...?
[Why the hell isn't he afraid? His hand looks like it's in rough shape, and all he does is calmly wash it off and ask for more? What is WITH this kid? He thought for sure he had him - hell, he was crying just a moment ago, so why?
But he doesn't ask that. Instead, he squares his shoulders and smirks at him, letting the situation fall back into place as he wants it.]
I'm only gonna show you once-
[His eyes roam around, looking for options. An idea twists itself into a leer across his face as his eyes light on the fridge - then lessens as a stray bottle finishes its journey across the floor and bumps into his foot.
He looks down, raising it into the air to get a look at it. Ken's written his name there, in the kind of infuriatingly neat handwriting that no one with any self respect has. And suddenly, true inspiration replaces his idea to sacrifice the fridge earlier. He holds it up in his mind, letting it float perfectly still in the air, feeling its weight pull against his head.
His power wraps tighter and tighter around it. It's hard to do. It would be so much easier to throw the thing now, shatter it and be done with all of this. But the brat agreed to a demonstration, and that's exactly what he'll get - every fucking reason to not underestimate him. It's not enough to hurt the kid. He wants fear. And if he's agreeing, he's not afraid enough...]
-so PAY ATTENTION!
[The bottle shatters with a hard flex of his mind, contents scattering in all directions. He lets the liquid go where it will, catching and holding as many pieces of glass as he can instead. That's easier; he already had hold of the entire bottle before. Not every piece, but a significant amount of them hang like glittering snowflakes between the two of them in a perfect portrait of an explosion.
Already, his head's protesting from the painful amounts of focus his stunt calls for, casting a vague haze across his perception of everything else. Or is it anger doing that...? He ignores that, holds it there longer. When he tries, really tries, and remembers to try... look what he can do.
That, he doesn't need to say as his eyes lock back onto Amada, is a small fraction of what he can do. That could be you.
The glass falls to the ground as Tetsuo turns to storm out.]