“You’ve been involved with her lately too? I didn’t know you were...” That she was what? He shouldn’t have been so naive. Anyone as scary as his mother was would surely be involved in the higher up positions of shinobi. He would stare at her still, surprised for a moment. It was a coincidence, but one that was akin to them both winning the lottery at the same time. It took the impact out of his own statement, and removed the wind beneath his wings. Apparently it wasn’t as big of a deal as he thought it would be. It made him wonder if he should have even hesitated to bring it up in the first place. It was good that the leader of the village was involved with people, but knowing that his mother was also spending time with her did make Chigetsu feel a little less special. It was a little weird too, considering the web of social ties present here that his mother was surely not aware of.
“That is… That is good. It’s just… given me a lot of confidence, being with her. I owe her a lot.” It was immediately uncomfortable again. A bad topic for a variety of reasons. He could tell just by watching her, the way she hesitated and stopped herself in the middle of eating. It was impossible to tell why, only to recognize the symptoms as they happened. Nothing more about Hana would be said, even though there were things to say. At least, he wouldn’t. If she wanted to speak, perhaps that could be good.
He stared down at the table, eyes inspecting his empty plate again. With a second of hesitation he would reach for another slice of the same pie, although it would only be placed onto his plate to fill the emptiness in the air, and in his mind.
“That is… That is good. It’s just… given me a lot of confidence, being with her. I owe her a lot.” It was immediately uncomfortable again. A bad topic for a variety of reasons. He could tell just by watching her, the way she hesitated and stopped herself in the middle of eating. It was impossible to tell why, only to recognize the symptoms as they happened. Nothing more about Hana would be said, even though there were things to say. At least, he wouldn’t. If she wanted to speak, perhaps that could be good.
He stared down at the table, eyes inspecting his empty plate again. With a second of hesitation he would reach for another slice of the same pie, although it would only be placed onto his plate to fill the emptiness in the air, and in his mind.