[The answer is "yes". It would be "yes" for most any of the Augmented, these pitiful many who have been stolen from their own worlds and forced into this new one without any rhyme or reason, their bodies twisted unnaturally without even the most false pretendings of consent. But for someone who had been kind to her when they did not have to, who had gone out of their way to comfort her in the panic and upset of their arrival and then continue to care...
Of course she wants him to live. Of course she wants him to be well, to eat, to keep going, because... because he seems like a good man. Because selfishly, she isn't sure how she is supposed to go one without the few others who she has opened up to. He squeezes her hands, tighter, and then tighter again, and she doesn't show any sign that it might hurt or be uncomfortable, simply holding back...
Until he asks that question, and the smile starting to blossom on her face in gladness that he committed to at least trying to find a way to eat properly withers before it can fully ripen. It's a good thing he is looking at her hands. She can't look at his face anymore. Her grip twitches. Twitches again.]
I don't... I don't know... I don't want to know...
[How long will she be able to keep that "natural soul" at bay? There wasn't anything natural about it, it felt like an invader in her head, in her heart... For now, she's able to hide the sharp withers beneath the blanket thrown over her back despite the warm weather, she loses an hour or so of sleep every night just desperately plucking whatever feathers she can find trying to grow into her bay coat or along her scalp. The skin irritation left behind by her desperate efforts to remain the Konoha she thought she was, she hides beneath her clothing and wrapping her hairline beneath scarves she can pretend are for catching sweat. But if it gets stronger- ?]
no subject
Of course she wants him to live. Of course she wants him to be well, to eat, to keep going, because... because he seems like a good man. Because selfishly, she isn't sure how she is supposed to go one without the few others who she has opened up to. He squeezes her hands, tighter, and then tighter again, and she doesn't show any sign that it might hurt or be uncomfortable, simply holding back...
Until he asks that question, and the smile starting to blossom on her face in gladness that he committed to at least trying to find a way to eat properly withers before it can fully ripen. It's a good thing he is looking at her hands. She can't look at his face anymore. Her grip twitches. Twitches again.]
I don't... I don't know... I don't want to know...
[How long will she be able to keep that "natural soul" at bay? There wasn't anything natural about it, it felt like an invader in her head, in her heart... For now, she's able to hide the sharp withers beneath the blanket thrown over her back despite the warm weather, she loses an hour or so of sleep every night just desperately plucking whatever feathers she can find trying to grow into her bay coat or along her scalp. The skin irritation left behind by her desperate efforts to remain the Konoha she thought she was, she hides beneath her clothing and wrapping her hairline beneath scarves she can pretend are for catching sweat. But if it gets stronger- ?]
You actually talk to it... ?