[ Soleum listens to Agent Choi casually speak about such existential matters like he's already experienced all there is to understand about that far shore, like he personally knows where the sky runs and ends between this place and the untold heaven not even the Dark Exploration Records is familiar with. Without realizing it, his eyes had risen to focus on him through a clearer lens, the dark of his gaze nearly gleaming red from behind his glasses.
For the first time, it hits him: He's so young. And yet the Agent Choi in the stories he read was consumed by a ghost story at this age, with that understanding of life, of his role, what he was willing to accept and make peace with, like it was something he was made for — which he was, he was written for it. Another thought bludgeons Soleum over the back of his head: Whatever transpires when he leaves, whether he escapes to his former employer in shame or hopefully returns to where he should have been all along, he won't know what happens to this person.
The inner linings of his heart run both hot and cold at once. Expanding, compressing. Leaving nothing in-between. ]
Am I a bicycle to you?
[ He hopes Agent Choi ignores it, the tautness squeezed around his voice, and just enjoys his pitiful attempt at a joke.
He needs another drink, so he takes a long one. Looks down at the leftover fizz bubbling in the rim of his can, his thumbnail scratching into the notch. ]
That's… not something you have to worry about. There are a lot of people who will remember you. [ This room, this team. What it was all for, and the torch that's been passed on. ] That ajumma, Agent Bronze-nim, the agents here… No matter where you go, there will be someone who wants to hang on to you. You're that kind of person.
[Choi's smile grows... pained, when Soleum says that. That's not the point, he wants to insist. He doesn't care about other people, if others will mourn him when he's gone, if they'll miss him or think about him. It's not what he was saying at all, but...]
[But isn't it just like their Grapes, to turn a selfish staement about clinging to life into something that makes Agent Choi seem better than he is? He did say he wanted to be more like him before. Is that what it is to him? Smoking, having people who respect him... That's surely not what he meant then, either, is it?]
[He drops his gaze for a moment, as if abandoning what he was going to ask. Then raises it. Still smiling, but it's still pained, too. A little uneasy, as if he's about to say something kind of embarrassing and even he recognizes it.]
Will you?
[His holds his drink between two fingers and his thumb. There's a long scar right beside his life line on his palm and he remembers making it, himself. Spilling blood to save Bronze from a monstrous beast, drawing its attention toward his scent. The anger in the other agent's eyes when he realized what he was doing. The betrayal, the fury that he would put himself at risk for his sake. But of course he would - he would do anything, at that moment, to make sure Agent Bronze came back with him. And that hand holding Soleum's beer, the one that occasionally shoots Choi a thumbs up as Soleum stares on in unenthused silence - isn't it proof they're so much the same already?]
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For the first time, it hits him: He's so young. And yet the Agent Choi in the stories he read was consumed by a ghost story at this age, with that understanding of life, of his role, what he was willing to accept and make peace with, like it was something he was made for — which he was, he was written for it. Another thought bludgeons Soleum over the back of his head: Whatever transpires when he leaves, whether he escapes to his former employer in shame or hopefully returns to where he should have been all along, he won't know what happens to this person.
The inner linings of his heart run both hot and cold at once. Expanding, compressing. Leaving nothing in-between. ]
Am I a bicycle to you?
[ He hopes Agent Choi ignores it, the tautness squeezed around his voice, and just enjoys his pitiful attempt at a joke.
He needs another drink, so he takes a long one. Looks down at the leftover fizz bubbling in the rim of his can, his thumbnail scratching into the notch. ]
That's… not something you have to worry about. There are a lot of people who will remember you. [ This room, this team. What it was all for, and the torch that's been passed on. ] That ajumma, Agent Bronze-nim, the agents here… No matter where you go, there will be someone who wants to hang on to you. You're that kind of person.
no subject
[But isn't it just like their Grapes, to turn a selfish staement about clinging to life into something that makes Agent Choi seem better than he is? He did say he wanted to be more like him before. Is that what it is to him? Smoking, having people who respect him... That's surely not what he meant then, either, is it?]
[He drops his gaze for a moment, as if abandoning what he was going to ask. Then raises it. Still smiling, but it's still pained, too. A little uneasy, as if he's about to say something kind of embarrassing and even he recognizes it.]
Will you?
[His holds his drink between two fingers and his thumb. There's a long scar right beside his life line on his palm and he remembers making it, himself. Spilling blood to save Bronze from a monstrous beast, drawing its attention toward his scent. The anger in the other agent's eyes when he realized what he was doing. The betrayal, the fury that he would put himself at risk for his sake. But of course he would - he would do anything, at that moment, to make sure Agent Bronze came back with him. And that hand holding Soleum's beer, the one that occasionally shoots Choi a thumbs up as Soleum stares on in unenthused silence - isn't it proof they're so much the same already?]
You'll hang onto me, too, won't you?