The wave of despair he feels at the idea almost floors him. He has to grit his teeth against the unfairness of it. He can't live like this for that long, adrift and unable to trust his own thoughts. To be without an identity feels like being without personhood. He may not know much of himself, but he knows he hates this sensation of being lost, of spiraling in the dark. The terror of having to endure it for that long almost flares into something like anger, but he tamps it back down; swallows it. Controls himself.
No, he certainly can't sit on his hands and wait to recover naturally, but he also knows better than to take it out on the one person who has given him something back.]
You called me--Kazuma. [The name feels equal parts familiar and alien on his tongue. Like it should be sparking something, but simply isn't.] Kazuma... Asogi. Is that my name?
no subject
The wave of despair he feels at the idea almost floors him. He has to grit his teeth against the unfairness of it. He can't live like this for that long, adrift and unable to trust his own thoughts. To be without an identity feels like being without personhood. He may not know much of himself, but he knows he hates this sensation of being lost, of spiraling in the dark. The terror of having to endure it for that long almost flares into something like anger, but he tamps it back down; swallows it. Controls himself.
No, he certainly can't sit on his hands and wait to recover naturally, but he also knows better than to take it out on the one person who has given him something back.]
You called me--Kazuma. [The name feels equal parts familiar and alien on his tongue. Like it should be sparking something, but simply isn't.] Kazuma... Asogi. Is that my name?