@dearsunshinc / cont.
“What if someone doesn’t deserve any?”
It’s funny; it sounds like something out of one of those sad books about sad girls and their sad romances Sayori likes to read. We accept the love we think we deserve. Bittersweet and philosophical and stuff. The kind of thing that would probably make her friends laugh if she repeated it back to them, because it doesn’t seem like the kind of thing airheaded Sayori, who’s nearly failing Japanese even though she’s vice president of the Literature Club and can’t even wake up to get to school on time, would really get.
She does get it, though. That’s the really funny thing.
“Umm, they feel like they don’t, they know they don’t, but people keep trying to give them love anyway. No matter what they do or say. And it’s all wasted. Like everyone’s pouring their love into a black hole.”
Pouring their love into a black hole. Maybe she should write that one down. Monika would probably like it; she’d say how Sayori’s getting so much better at expressing her feelings.
She smiles; her heart aches but that’s nothing new. It’s not like her even to say this much, but this strange, handsome man with his strange, pretty eyes—like he’s wearing contacts, she thinks, but they look so real—makes her feel like she can talk about anything, somehow.
He’d bought her a cinnamon roll, anyway—or, well, talked his friend into buying two when he turned out to have 15 yen in his wallet, and that had really made her laugh because she’d probably done the same thing a million times—so he’s probably a nice person. It seems like as good a measure of that kind of thing as anything.
“…And then what if there isn’t enough love left for everyone else?”
The girl talks about love like it’s a limited resource, which Tsuzuki knows can’t be true, or he would’ve run out of love to give a very long time ago. But he knows the feeling despite that -- that your existence in itself is a sin, that you’re taking up valuable time from people who would be better off spending it elsewhere, on more worthwhile people. Tsuzuki hasn’t felt like he deserves love--- ever, he thinks, not once. A sideways glance to Hisoka, calmly reading on his phone on the other side of the cafe to keep away from the idle chatter of the crowd, makes his heart swell. No, sometimes people can surprise you. He doesn’t feel like he deserves the love and kindness and patience Hisoka gives him, but Hisoka gives it to him anyway, simply because he wants to.
“There’s always enough love to go around,” he says, wiggling his fork into his slice of apple pie to get a sizeable chunk of the soft fruit inside. He takes the bite and talks with his mouth half-full, thoughtful as he presses on, “Don’t you ever see those videos of people who saved kittens from the snow? Or, uh, people who leave jackets around telephone poles for homeless people to use? Love doesn’t have a cap on it. People can give it to you and still have plenty enough to give to others.”
Tsuzuki smiles despite his own hypocrisy. “I don’t think anyone’s love is ever wasted. But...” There’s something so sad and so recognizable in her. It’s like seeing himself when he was alive, lost and alone despite the efforts of his sister to make him feel otherwise. “I know that it can feel like that sometimes. That people put so much effort into a lost cause. But no one’s a lost cause, you know? Imagine if we gave up on everybody who didn’t think they were worth saving... soon there’d hardly be anybody left.”
She’s sweet. Too sweet to be so sad, anyway, even if her smile attempts to cover it up. Another thing that’s all too recognizable to him -- how to spot when someone’s lying about their heart to you. It’s none of his business, he tells himself, but in a way, maybe it is? Every passing interaction is a chance to brighten someone’s day, even just a little.
“Mmm... Think of it this way. Would you ever tell someone else that they weren’t deserving of love? Would you ever look at your friend and say, ‘You don’t deserve to be loved’? Probably not. So you shouldn’t say it about yourself, either!”
