[His mouth is . . . dry. He speaks slowly, haltingly, like every word is an effort. A month ago, she saw Giorno alone and at his cruelest, Haruno boarded up behind a wall. Today there's Haruno alone, all trappings of confidence and resolve skinned away to leave an ugly, aching, broken, bleeding thing. Talking like he doesn't believe any of the words he's saying. Like even as he says them, he's convincing himself they don't matter.]
Back home . . . where I lived. It's like that. Everywhere. Kids without parents, or with parents who don't want them . . . on the streets or with strangers, or joining . . .
[Joining gangs.]
[Maybe that's the other reason he went to Fugo, after all. Maybe that's why. Because Fugo's life is quite literally an open book to him now. Because Fugo took the only choice available to him. The one that provided food and shelter and relative safety.]
[Relative safety.]
[He doesn't meet Riley's eyes. He can't. His own are so dull, it doesn't seem like he's looking at much of anything.]
. . . I walked out my front door, turned a corner . . . they were sleeping in alleys. They'd run away from orphanages and foster homes, because there wasn't . . . enough. There was never enough. No one cared. Just . . . left. Like trash. I wanted . . .
[to fix it]
[to go home]
[to believe you understood me]
[He shakes his head. It doesn't matter. What he wanted doesn't matter, here and now.]
cw child abuse/neglect, systemic child neglect, homelessness
[His mouth is . . . dry. He speaks slowly, haltingly, like every word is an effort. A month ago, she saw Giorno alone and at his cruelest, Haruno boarded up behind a wall. Today there's Haruno alone, all trappings of confidence and resolve skinned away to leave an ugly, aching, broken, bleeding thing. Talking like he doesn't believe any of the words he's saying. Like even as he says them, he's convincing himself they don't matter.]
Back home . . . where I lived. It's like that. Everywhere. Kids without parents, or with parents who don't want them . . . on the streets or with strangers, or joining . . .
[Joining gangs.]
[Maybe that's the other reason he went to Fugo, after all. Maybe that's why. Because Fugo's life is quite literally an open book to him now. Because Fugo took the only choice available to him. The one that provided food and shelter and relative safety.]
[Relative safety.]
[He doesn't meet Riley's eyes. He can't. His own are so dull, it doesn't seem like he's looking at much of anything.]
. . . I walked out my front door, turned a corner . . . they were sleeping in alleys. They'd run away from orphanages and foster homes, because there wasn't . . . enough. There was never enough. No one cared. Just . . . left. Like trash. I wanted . . .
[to fix it]
[to go home]
[to believe you understood me]
[He shakes his head. It doesn't matter. What he wanted doesn't matter, here and now.]
I can't see that again. I can't.