“ it’s okay to be angry, you’re allowed to be upset about what happened to you. ” ((Did someone order two physically-fit Phantom Thieves with pent-up anger issues? :3c ))
☠ - For a moment he’s quiet due to the one who’s telling him this said advice. A stir of realization settles within those bluntly honest eyes of the delinquent as he’s left silent, caught off in how casually this is spoken of, rightfully armed with it’s silver lining of flame. Surrounding them in the thinning halls of Shujin would be the emptiness of an otherwise shitty day. Old scars still managed to creep from the heavily ingrained society that aimed to always see him kicked to the side one way or another.
Not that he entirely faults them. Ryuji knows that it’s left by the machinations of despot who aimed to bleed his image into all of Shujin itself. To claim any woman as his rightfully owned property and make examples of execution for any man who hadn’t fell in line with his whims. Broken bones highlighted by mortification, only to be puppeted by the strings of subjugation had left a history of where repressed anger simmers under his veins like fresh magma. Their lives within the Phantom Thieves highlighted their release of pain through every enemy crushed.
Part of him had to worry if he was gaining a sadistic streak by allowing the full feast of anger to be indulged. To burn and let burn despite the inherent risk of being of being consumed by it all. There was a touch of guilt in knowing that part of him was happy to partially imagine the faces of people who slighted him as those shadows, seeing their twisted amalgamations become saturated in fear before applying the final strikes. Always ensuring he stops the fantasy during the end so it’s always a shadow he falls, never a person he wished to just rough of.
Remaining slouched against a nearby wall of the school, Ryuji’s eyes bore deep into Makoto’s, a steam like sigh spilling like fresh exhaust. “And stewin’ solely in that feels effin’ worse then holding it back. Makoto, if I don’t do somethin’ with it, feels like I’m gonna lose my damn mind.” Reliving those pained days isn’t what he wishes to do.
To conquer those days like the unforgiving sea served to be a lot more appealing.
”Let’s go smash some shadows.” The suggestion is dropped like an atom bomb with it’s lack of finesse. Yet he’s entirely serious, the particular burn within his eyes, the aspect of Skull showing itself to his fellow ally without a lack of shame. What kind of good with shame with your name was tarnished and stepped so deep in mud, it’d be impossible to return? “Gotta improve our game anyways, yeah? If you’re down for the whole idea of feelin’ pissed, best if we can go and use it productively.”
