All I know is, I forgot everything from before that week that I died. And then Tsurumaru told me that way back in our first week here, I told him I already didn't remember much. So it's not the first time it's happened to me, apparently.
Do you think I've been sitting around doing nothing, Rex?
But... I suppose you wouldn't be able to know. Most of what I've had to do has had to been done in secret. All you see is me being idle. Sitting around and you thinking I'm just having some random love affair.
[ a hand runs through his hair, looking down. ]
Rex. Did you hear that I had a role to play while here? Were you listening at that time?
I've been closing these windows across all these worlds. I've had to keep it a secret from basically everyone. I'm used to keeping things secret, hiding them. I didn't mind that part, but what I'm saying is... I've been working nonstop to help end this.
Working with others to get knowledge, spread what I could, protect what I could. And I failed, countless times. But I kept going because I had to, to help fix this problem. To help bring all of you back.
Even when I was injured, I had to keep working. But I was fine with it. I wanted to know I was helping, fighting to get things fixed. I'm sorry if that's not enough for you, Rex. I did try my best.
...But I also failed you. Failed when I hadn't realized what Susato did that day. Failed to put those pieces together. I had my suspicions, but that doesn't mean anything.
[ for the first time in this conversation, rex raises his voice ]
I don't care that Susato got away! Not anymore, anyway.
And I know what you did. I heard you, back there. But you would've done that whether I was alive or dead. Whether you cared or knew I existed at all. Spike didn't kill for Sheba, and you didn't close those windows for me.
So what proof do I have that you actually care, and aren't just saying it?
[ this frustrates him and he feels a little lost. he feels so upset.
and maybe this isn't the move, but he grabs rex and tugs him in close. he pulls him into a huge. he doesn't care if he's punched in the gut or shoved away from it. ]
I care, dammit. I don't know what to do to show you, other than this, if you won't believe me.
[ yeah, kotetsu is...gonna get rex squirming out of his hold and shoving him an arm's length apart. ]
I sent you letters. I kept giving you reminders. I kept giving you a chance!
And now it turns out the only time you ever wanna do anything for me is when you actually have to look at my face. But I guess it's a lot easier to convince yourself you care about someone when you don't have to deal with them yourself, isn't it? Out of sight, out of mind. I get it.
[ it's his inside breast pocket, but he lets him do that. the bag is torn, the contents inside are, in fact, a photo of sholmes, his first letter from nine and the letter from rex, as well as his coin. any other items had been removed over the course of the week, not as important to him to keep close.
[ Rex shuffles through the contents, letting the photo and the other letter fall away. He stares at his own words, gripping the letter so tightly it feels like his knuckles might burst out of his skin.
is this even real? can he trust it to be real? How can he be sure that Kotetsu's actually been carrying this around? He could've just slipped it into his pocket before coming to see Rex right now. ...But that doesn't explain the old, old bloodstains on it.
he tries to keep his voice even, but it's hard. He pushes aside the lump in his throat to talk. ]
...I woke up dead and all I remembered was the past week when I was murdered. And nobody caught my killer because everyone was too busy caring about her to care about me. No one ever mentions me again, like I never existed in the first place. And everyone is lying, about everything, all the time.
And then some guy turns up telling me he cares about me and wants to help me. Like I'm supposed to just believe that. Like trusting people at their word isn't exactly what got me killed.
[ he looks up from the letter, crinkling in his desperate grasp. ]
What am I supposed to do with this? All these weeks later. The tiniest thing nobody could have ever noticed. [ he manages a single laugh, wet and derisive ] Like I'm that desperate. [ what he really means: am i that desperate? ]
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...apparently, it's been a problem with me for a while.
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[ Sorry, he needs more information. ]
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You think I remember?
All I know is, I forgot everything from before that week that I died. And then Tsurumaru told me that way back in our first week here, I told him I already didn't remember much. So it's not the first time it's happened to me, apparently.
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I did. I managed to get some of my memories back--what my world was like, how my powers work--but that's about it.
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...yeah.
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What?
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[ care, that is. ]
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Maybe you don't believe me, but it's true.
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Rex... Why...? Why do you think I don't care?
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Do you think I've been sitting around doing nothing, Rex?
But... I suppose you wouldn't be able to know. Most of what I've had to do has had to been done in secret. All you see is me being idle. Sitting around and you thinking I'm just having some random love affair.
[ a hand runs through his hair, looking down. ]
Rex. Did you hear that I had a role to play while here? Were you listening at that time?
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I did. And?
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Working with others to get knowledge, spread what I could, protect what I could. And I failed, countless times. But I kept going because I had to, to help fix this problem. To help bring all of you back.
Even when I was injured, I had to keep working. But I was fine with it. I wanted to know I was helping, fighting to get things fixed. I'm sorry if that's not enough for you, Rex. I did try my best.
...But I also failed you. Failed when I hadn't realized what Susato did that day. Failed to put those pieces together. I had my suspicions, but that doesn't mean anything.
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I don't care that Susato got away! Not anymore, anyway.
And I know what you did. I heard you, back there. But you would've done that whether I was alive or dead. Whether you cared or knew I existed at all. Spike didn't kill for Sheba, and you didn't close those windows for me.
So what proof do I have that you actually care, and aren't just saying it?
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and maybe this isn't the move, but he grabs rex and tugs him in close. he pulls him into a huge. he doesn't care if he's punched in the gut or shoved away from it. ]
I care, dammit. I don't know what to do to show you, other than this, if you won't believe me.
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I sent you letters. I kept giving you reminders. I kept giving you a chance!
And now it turns out the only time you ever wanna do anything for me is when you actually have to look at my face. But I guess it's a lot easier to convince yourself you care about someone when you don't have to deal with them yourself, isn't it? Out of sight, out of mind. I get it.
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...Letters? Rex, I only got one letter from you. And I... I didn't realize we could send them back. Not for a long time. But that was stupid of me.
You were never out of my mind. But you're right. I never expressed it. And you've every right to be mad at me.
I want you to know, I kept that letter on me at all times. Always.
[ he taps the spot where he keeps the little waterproof bag he has pocketed right above his heart. ]
If I could do one thing over again, it would be that. But so much for regret, it doesn't do anything for you and it's really only self-serving.
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but it's there. one of his few treasured items. ]
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is this even real? can he trust it to be real? How can he be sure that Kotetsu's actually been carrying this around? He could've just slipped it into his pocket before coming to see Rex right now. ...But that doesn't explain the old, old bloodstains on it.
he tries to keep his voice even, but it's hard. He pushes aside the lump in his throat to talk. ]
...I woke up dead and all I remembered was the past week when I was murdered. And nobody caught my killer because everyone was too busy caring about her to care about me. No one ever mentions me again, like I never existed in the first place. And everyone is lying, about everything, all the time.
And then some guy turns up telling me he cares about me and wants to help me. Like I'm supposed to just believe that. Like trusting people at their word isn't exactly what got me killed.
[ he looks up from the letter, crinkling in his desperate grasp. ]
What am I supposed to do with this? All these weeks later. The tiniest thing nobody could have ever noticed. [ he manages a single laugh, wet and derisive ] Like I'm that desperate. [ what he really means: am i that desperate? ]
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