[Oh, Omi... She pauses as she catches that shudder, frowning.]
... Hey. [Hesitating, just a little. And, then:] If I knew someone who could, maybe, make you forget what you saw if I asked nicely... would you want me to ask?
You know, you really are one of the nicest people here. [Which. Just makes all of this so much worse, huh?] I don't know how to fix any of this. But if you want to hang out, take your mind off it... I'm here.
[Thanks for touching him, she will get a short little memory.
A much younger Omi maybe 10, 11 at best, and a mean-faced, blonde haired kid his same age.
It's dark, like the sun has set a long time ago. The two boys are both sitting at the river side. There are grocery bags at Omi's sides, like he went to go shopping, and then decided he had no intention of going home.
The blonde haired boy speaks first, "Sounds fine to me. Nothing wrong with playing hooky when you wanna."
"But..."
"If you haven't taken a break so far, ain't nobody can say anything if you flaked off now. Just run away again if you feel like it."
Those words are a shock to him. Run away? Run away again?
"Haven't you ever heard of a five-day work week?" The boy is so serious when he says it, that it makes Omi break into a laughter.
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... Hey. [Hesitating, just a little. And, then:] If I knew someone who could, maybe, make you forget what you saw if I asked nicely... would you want me to ask?
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[He's tense at the suggestion of it.]
Look, I know it was messed up, and... watching Fukuda-
[It's been less than a day, that's all. He'll pull himself together. He'll be fine. Sometimes he thinks he's got a delicate heart, but...
In the end he's always fine.]
All the things that happen, good or bad, make you into the person you are. It's not a memory I'll cherish, but it feels wrong to forget.
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[A little quiet. Apologetic.]
You know, you really are one of the nicest people here. [Which. Just makes all of this so much worse, huh?] I don't know how to fix any of this. But if you want to hang out, take your mind off it... I'm here.
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I'm not sure. [He wonders if that's weird or not. Do other people get trapped in this sort of routine? Do they know?]
Thank you, Sheila. I do appreciate it. [Even if there's a part of him that balks at the idea of even seeming vulnerable.]
Want to watch a movie? It can be terrible.
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[She reaches over to pat him on the shoulder like there, there... And then kind of blinks at she looks at the kitchen counter again.]
Oh. Though we should probably put those away first?
[The baking ingredients.]
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A much younger Omi maybe 10, 11 at best, and a mean-faced, blonde haired kid his same age.
It's dark, like the sun has set a long time ago. The two boys are both sitting at the river side. There are grocery bags at Omi's sides, like he went to go shopping, and then decided he had no intention of going home.
The blonde haired boy speaks first, "Sounds fine to me. Nothing wrong with playing hooky when you wanna."
"But..."
"If you haven't taken a break so far, ain't nobody can say anything if you flaked off now. Just run away again if you feel like it."
Those words are a shock to him. Run away? Run away again?
"Haven't you ever heard of a five-day work week?" The boy is so serious when he says it, that it makes Omi break into a laughter.
Not that he seems to have noticed this time.
He's already putting the ingredients away.]
Any movies you like?