[His words and the way he says them make her silent for a while. She just bites at her lip and watches the way he works at her arm, focusing on the strange pressure she's feeling rather than talking.
But as the blue glow begins to fade and the pressure lessens up a little, she's left looking over at him in concern. She wonders what he must think of her for trying to make sense out of where he's from. If he's insulted, she should apologize.]
Sorry, I just -
[she hesitates, glancing away.]
I just think that something can be flawed and still be good.
[Because if she doesn't think that way, she'll lose hope that she's able to be considered a good person at the end of the day. She's so, so flawed and broken. She will always try to find reason and justify other flawed things and their right to exist.]
（ he releases her, once he's finished, withdrawing deft hands back into his own space as if he had never touched her at all. it isn't entirely healed, but it should feel the tiniest bit better, the soreness and ache to the muscles eased off at least. he will never be truly skilled at this but it is more important, on these missions, that they have a healer than a man who can reach into minds and leave them a desolate wasteland.
realizing that his best function here may be healing over hurt is something he has not examined too deeply in himself. but turning away from the rack and ruin of what he knows, what he has honed himself for — he has not yet decided his feelings about it.
he does not look at her as he speaks, an oddly avoidant tactic. he generally has no difficulty with meeting the gazes of others, it is a question of whether or not they will meet his. ）
And you are not incorrect to think that. I am aware that my village has its deficiencies, but it is still the home that I love.
（ he has spent nearly a decade denying all affection and allegiance for konoha. to be in a position to say it so freely, without wondering who he may have condemned by saying so, is an odd thing. freeing, almost. she cannot know the gift she has given him, nor is it evident.
he stands, then, and gives her a polite — if shallow — bow. ）
You have my gratitude for allowing me to work on your arm.
（ there is still the tea to be had, but at the very least he can move to one of the chairs for that. he turns to the tray, and sets about filling the little earthenware cups. ）
[The way he stays so calm and collected, even while turning gratitude toward her. She could point out that he's the one that's helped her, but she's so completely charmed by him that she doesn't have the heart to rebuke what he's said.
Instead, she turns her focus onto tea. Tea is nice and safe, it's something they both enjoy. It's a way to enjoy one another's company without any expectations of conversation beyond simple small talk.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
But as the blue glow begins to fade and the pressure lessens up a little, she's left looking over at him in concern. She wonders what he must think of her for trying to make sense out of where he's from. If he's insulted, she should apologize.]
Sorry, I just -
[she hesitates, glancing away.]
I just think that something can be flawed and still be good.
[Because if she doesn't think that way, she'll lose hope that she's able to be considered a good person at the end of the day. She's so, so flawed and broken. She will always try to find reason and justify other flawed things and their right to exist.]
no subject
（ he releases her, once he's finished, withdrawing deft hands back into his own space as if he had never touched her at all. it isn't entirely healed, but it should feel the tiniest bit better, the soreness and ache to the muscles eased off at least. he will never be truly skilled at this but it is more important, on these missions, that they have a healer than a man who can reach into minds and leave them a desolate wasteland.
realizing that his best function here may be healing over hurt is something he has not examined too deeply in himself. but turning away from the rack and ruin of what he knows, what he has honed himself for — he has not yet decided his feelings about it.
he does not look at her as he speaks, an oddly avoidant tactic. he generally has no difficulty with meeting the gazes of others, it is a question of whether or not they will meet his. ）
And you are not incorrect to think that. I am aware that my village has its deficiencies, but it is still the home that I love.
（ he has spent nearly a decade denying all affection and allegiance for konoha. to be in a position to say it so freely, without wondering who he may have condemned by saying so, is an odd thing. freeing, almost. she cannot know the gift she has given him, nor is it evident.
he stands, then, and gives her a polite — if shallow — bow. ）
You have my gratitude for allowing me to work on your arm.
（ there is still the tea to be had, but at the very least he can move to one of the chairs for that. he turns to the tray, and sets about filling the little earthenware cups. ）
no subject
Instead, she turns her focus onto tea. Tea is nice and safe, it's something they both enjoy. It's a way to enjoy one another's company without any expectations of conversation beyond simple small talk.]