[ Under that piercing inquisitive stare, Yoshiki feels like a bug on a card under a magnifying glass. He can only hope there's no pin hanging above waiting to stick him through.
It'd be too much to pick at the hem of his t-shirt or wring his hands, and once he starts thinking about his hands he gets too aware of them. Any way he holds them - forcibly relaxed, tucked into a fist, folded behind his back, flat on his thighs - seems off. He suddenly can't remember where he normally keeps them. And now he's lost track of how long he's been standing here, not answering, his hands stiff and clumsy at his sides. ]
Some.
[ There's a soft, dull heaviness to that 'some'. Yoshiki drops his eyes. If he's thinking about his hands, he's thinking about that less. ]
Seen more things like that, and the one in the woods. [ He drops his eyes to the riverbank between them. ] But I don't...I don't hardly know anything about 'em. And I don't mean to see.
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It'd be too much to pick at the hem of his t-shirt or wring his hands, and once he starts thinking about his hands he gets too aware of them. Any way he holds them - forcibly relaxed, tucked into a fist, folded behind his back, flat on his thighs - seems off. He suddenly can't remember where he normally keeps them. And now he's lost track of how long he's been standing here, not answering, his hands stiff and clumsy at his sides. ]
Some.
[ There's a soft, dull heaviness to that 'some'. Yoshiki drops his eyes. If he's thinking about his hands, he's thinking about that less. ]
Seen more things like that, and the one in the woods. [ He drops his eyes to the riverbank between them. ] But I don't...I don't hardly know anything about 'em. And I don't mean to see.
[ Doesn't want to see. ]