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THE GLORY 더 글로리 (2022- ) Dir. Ahn Gil Ho

He nods. He's quick, excited. "Aha, yeah. It definitely wasn't an insult!"

          “Well, thank you. All ideas come from somewhere. Maybe the 'anime guys' really just look like me.” 

　　IF SHE KNEW THAT HE HADN'T EVEN CONSIDERED IT, she would be at ease. But of course, the facts being his own self-preservation rather than an attempt at trying to exert control over her is something he would never admit to. In fact, he might go so far as to convince himself it was that all along. Tem can't think on it that deeply right nowーher brain is buzzing and coiling around itself as adrenaline and anxiety flow through it like angry rivers. Though it's calmed since her initial shock, it'll be a while before she gets her full capacity back, either.

　　Izaya continues to try to ease her, but she hates every word out of his mouth. Something about this is so wrong. It feels off. She doesn't expect things to be perfect with him; it wouldn't be fun that way. But this whole situation has a bad taste that she can't quite put her finger on. He seems like a different person. Had she been that fooled all this time?

　　In the end, Tem is just confused. She can't put anything together that quite makes sense, and that gives their entire relationship and unpleasant and familiar uncertainty. Everybody changes, but what if they were like that all along?

　　Coming back is worse, somehow.

　　He and I are not the same. A gear inside Tem clips the ones it's trying to move with, and she blinks. Bringing him up lights a spark of rage inside her, though in the moment, she can't tell why.

　　"You..." She trails off, trying to find the words. Trying to figure out what her emotions are. She wants to be happy that Izaya is back, and she wants to accept it. But some strong boundary is repelling him, instead.

　　"You're being weird. I..."

　　Duchess will love this, she can't help but suddenly think to herself.

　　"I want you to leave."

He stares at her, unflinching. I want you to leave. Of course she does. 

          “That’s now how this works, Tem.”

And how dare she, really, after what she’s done to his dignity. He’d been acting like such a fool those first few months, desperately seeking some sort of answer. Suspicious. Paranoid. And it isn’t much better now, the wounds being torn open again like this. Whatever it is that’s going on inside of him is messy, inelegant, unplanned. He can’t detangle it, braid it into something pristine and digestible. It’s ugly, uncontrollable, a diseased monster that has burrowed deep inside his ribs, infecting him like a virus—and she put it there, and she wants him to leave? The sheer audacity.

Besides, he’s already been gone too long. Look what happens when he goes away. Look what she gets herself into, the company she keeps. This wouldn’t have happened on his watch—and if he did decide to let it happen, it would have been handled much sooner, certainly much better.

          “I decide when I go.” 

Izaya’s long coat was too powerful for the animation budget.

sillies

I miss DRRR so much :( 

go girls give us absolutely nothing!

2年前の今日7月18日土曜日の衝撃は今も忘れない絶対に自死するとは思えない三浦春馬と言う30歳の俳優がいた事を春馬くんの未来の作品が見れないのが凄く凄く悔しい明るみになって欲しい何故春馬くんは、あんなに痩せ苦しんでたのか今も悲しみは癒えない。

折原 臨也

　　TEM DOESN'T KNOW WHAT SHE WANTS IN THIS MOMENT. Instinct has made her pull away, but of course, regret and embarrassment immediately follow the action. She had just essentially lashed out at him for showing his face, and now she's somehow simultaneously worried about him being angry for that. Her crutch, her ability to read emotions, is completely useless when she's so overwhelmed by the jumbled mess inside of herself.

　　She wishes she would stop shaking.

　　The accountant hears him say something, but doesn't react. Her arms have come up to hug herself, and she tries to focus on calming the fuck down. Whoever this person is, it isn't herーor it shouldn't be. Reacting like this serves no purpose; it's of no help to her, and she needs to get it under control. It's okay to be upset, but this is too much.

　　At least, without talking, she's not forced to listen to herself stumble through words. The shaking lessens as she takes breaths, reminds herself that she's doing okay, and that Izaya being here doesn'tーah, no, thinking of him at all, and the fact that he's standing right there in front of her doesn't help at all.

　　In truth, she has no idea what happened. The things he had felt that day were not newーshe didn't think so, at least. They've had surreal, bizarro intimacy moments like that before. But they always turn out nice. He seems to become more attached to her in his own twisted way, and it's just the way that she likes. The strange roots that form between them and hold him to her; only this time, for some reason, they seemed to have rotted and fallen off. She doesn't know what caused. Normally, her overthinking might find her a few answers; was calling Shinra the wrong move? Had she stuck around too long after? Should she not have left at all?

　　He moves in again and she's prepared for another knee-jerk reaction, but he doesn't touch her this time. Smart. A bit of a relief for her, too. Losing the air between them should set her off again, but there's a bit of calmness to it. LIkely because of his own composure, and he speaks in a way to culminate it further. Tem takes her twelfth measured breath, not looking up at him yet. Funny enough, she hadn't meant that she had bored him. She thought she had sickened him. It's just that boredom of others is all she could of to bring him back around to her. Sickening is more fun than boring, after all.

　　Cry? Tem raises a trembling hand and touches at her eyes, searching for wetness. Does she look like she's going to? Has she already started? When she feels only the normal moisture of an eyelid, she shakes her head. Of course not. Crying would be so pathetic. As if she isn't already being extremely so.

　　The shock won't clear completely anytime soon, but the major instance has passed. Her shaking is more under control, making her voice a little better, though nothing like it's usual neutrality.

　　"N-not like...that... Y-you know w-what leaving does." The words make her realize, in the back of her mind, that part of her harsh reaction is anger, not that he'd done it, because it's expected for him to be like thisーbut that he'd done it to her.

She’s right. He does know the power of his absence—and he knows that absence itself is complicated for her. He just hadn’t been thinking about it this time, too distracted by his own unease. It seems so ridiculously obvious in retrospect. How absurd this whole situation has been, still is. His judgment isn’t as precise as usual; he feels as if he’s someone else, a substantially less intelligent version of himself. 

What would he do if all of this were planned? He’s been known to play games like this, to toy with the desperation and codependency of those in his grasp. How does he usually go about the return? 

          “I’m here now,”          he says carefully.          “It was only for a little while.”

He wants to come closer, to take her face in his hands and observe this hysteria more closely. It’s so new, so rich, he wants to study it, devour it. He wants to understand her the way the blood inside her body does. He wants to unspool the meat of her brain and put it back together, burying himself in the crevices. 

          “He and I are not the same.”          His voice is quiet, almost sweet.          “Remember? Come here.”

I’m so normal about him