Joshua
He's having a bad day. He knew the swirling storm of depression was coming for him eventually. It just happened to really pick up now. Talking about his parents felt a little good, but he knows he can't get into detail there. Someone could use it against him. 

He slides to the ground. He can't even be bothered to get all the way to his dorm first. There's no one here right now. Nakanishi might be there. It'd be too much effort to try and communicate what's going on to her, but he couldn't just sit in there and ignore her either. So it's sitting out here, wishing he still had that privacy of his own room. 

He never had to share before. It's odd.

He pulls his knees up to his chin, wrapping his arms around them and pressing his face forward. He's in a sort of ball shape. 

Just a minute, he tells himself. He'll only be here for a minute. 

He's not *Crying.* He feels... Empty. In a very bad way. He wishes he had a therapist or something, but reaching out is too much. He can't put this on Uriel, Haoran, or Craig. Especially not Craig. Craig has issues of his own. And Moru would listen if he ever wanted to talk. But he... Can't open up about all of that to him. There's no way.

There's no way.

How do you talk about this sort of thing without sounding like some whiny baby? *Oh, my parents were wealthy and I was given freedom as a child.* Please. 

Moru keeps trying to tell himself that it's *Fine.* He's fine. Well- *Now* He's fine. So it should just... Be all over now. But it's not over. He still feels awful, and like he's apt to be ignored at any second. He can only force himself into so many conversations until "Staying relevant" Becomes "Being annoying." 

And now he's moping in a hallway. 
Great.
Angel
_ _ 

*<I wonder what Craig made for dinner..>*

Footsteps echo through the hollow hallways of the campus indoors. 

 They're robotic in nature, in a manner that would otherwise require deliberation to maintain such consistency — 

— but this was Haoran, and his mind was elsewhere, far too distracted by the thoughts swirling in his mind to be focused. With his newfound discovery that he had gained access to what — or who — was practically an infinite battery, his brain was relentless in brewing numerous experiments to test the limit of Tuna's abilities, or the many projects he could do and test with his help. 

On the contrary, it's a *Good* Day. Passepartout reported a grand total of 0 bugs, and his attempt to make a translator for Nakanishi was greatly helped by a pre-existing API. 

Yet, despite that, his eyes held his usual blankness, his gaze narrowed in a falsely focused stare as he made his way through the dark hallways of the night-time. No one is around the area at this time of twilight, and so silence blankets the halls in comforting tranquility. The grey walls now build his new home, and the green— 

 *Wait, the green?* 

 But there's no green, not indoo—

*Trip—* 

 "*Cao—!*"

His eyes widen as he stumbles forward when he misses the curled up figure on the ground. The taller male trips and nearly falls over, saved when he staggers forward instead. Haoran hastily turns around in a brief panic, and even his flat voice sounds rushed for once. 

"I didn't see you there, my deepest apologie—" 

 Dark grey eyes land on long green locks that cover Mamoru's ball-like pose. 

 "...Mamoru?" 

Haoran frowns, not out of frustration that he had chosen to become an obstacle in a hallway, but rather out of concern.
Joshua
He looks up the second Haoran trips over him, but he's too late to prevent it from happening. He's clearly exhausted, but at least he hasn't been crying.

Moru looks almost guilty, like he was caught doing something he shouldn't be doing. 

He can tell that Haoran is concerned, and it hurts a little, since he was specifically not going to "Bother" Him with what's going on.

He stands up quickly, brushing off his jeans in case they got dusty from the floor or something.

"It's- fine. I shouldn't have been sitting in the middle of the f[]king hallway anyways. It's fine." 

He wants to break down and talk about everything so bad but there's no way he can do that. He can't even ask to do that.
Angel
_ _ 

His train of thought is derailed nearly immediately as soon as he recognizes the curled up boy, the green-haired student looking far more tired than he was — and this was *Haoran* We're talking about — as he quickly brushed himself off. The expression on his face is guilt painted all over, for what reason he isn't sure, because he wasn't about to scold Mamoru about sitting around the hallways. 

**"It's- fine. I shouldn't have been sitting in the middle of the f[]king hallway anyways. It's fine." **

*You're* Not fine, though." 

He says, painfully bluntly, as if he had just come to a conclusion of an experiment and wasn't expressing concern for a friend. 

 *<What do I say?>* 

The words crawl up his throat as he stares at Mamoru. His tone continues to be flat, monotone, his gaze almost looking judging but his intent clear. There's hesitation lacing his words, and the inventor's eyes visibly flicker from left to right as he tentatively chooses his words. He's never considered himself someone who shamed away from risks, but for the first time in a long time — 

 Comforting others was like trying to defuse a bomb. Cut off the wrong wire and everything goes down. 

He wasn't so sure which wire he was supposed to cut. 

"What happened?" 

Haoran dares to ask, his head tilted so he could properly face his newly-acquainted friend.
Joshua
It could've been worse. Haoran is the one who found him, not Ares. It's a very small comfort.

*Is it really that obvious?* He supposes it's not hard to see that he's not doing too well. He's pretty sure that's just how Haoran sounds all the time, so he's not exactly dejected. It's obvious Haoran is trying to ask because he cares, he's just... Not used to it? 

*What happened. The question to end all questions.* Moru sighs.

How does he... Explain this?

"It's not exactly that something *Happened..* Well, not recently." Moru isn't quite as awkward about navigating this situation, but he's still *Kinda* Awkward. He's only really typed about this stuff. How does he put it to physical words?

"It's- stuff *Has* Happened- years ago- and sometimes it just.." He itches at his wrist. "Hurts? I don't..." 

That's not how to describe this.

"Look I- ...I know you're a busy person. You probably don't uh- have time from this. And I don't wanna keep you from your... Robotics." He's pretty sure it's robotics. "You don't have to listen to me whine like a baby. I'll get over it." 

It's easier to insult himself than to address the issue.
Angel
_ _ 

**"It's not exactly that something happened.. Well, not recently."**

"..." 

He isn't sure what's better to say. 'I see'? 'I understand'? He doesn't know what Mamoru's situation is. The green-haired student awkwardly tries to explain his situation, his hand reaching over to scratch at his wrist. His first instinct is to stop him from doing that, but he stills. 

He's unsure. 

**"Look I- ...I know you're a busy person. You probably don't uh- have time from this. And I don't wanna keep you from your... Robotics."**

No. 

That's not true. He's sure of that, at the very least.

 It's a twisted sense of deja vu that hits him. 

**"You don't have to listen to me whine like a baby. I'll get over it." **

*Sigh* 

 "You're just like my little sister..."

Haoran murmurs as the younger student pulls his hand away from itching his wrist, and he sets his arm to Mamoru's side, not wanting him to harm himself with how bright red the area below his palm was. Firmly, his gaze locks onto the other boy's as he crouches down slightly, one hand on his shoulder. 

*"Mamoru."*

"You are not whining like a little baby, and I will not allow you to speak about yourself like that when you're just feeling down like how any other person would." 

His voice is stern, but it's laced with worry. It's rare for his sound to be filled with this much emotion. 

"If you need someone to talk to, I *Am* Here, and I am sure all your other friends are too. Friends are much more important than any robot I have in the workshop, and you are a friend."
Joshua
Oh. Good. Being compared to a little sister. At first, he wallows in that for a second, but then Haoran reaches out, stopping him from itching at his arm.

He hadn't even realized he was doing it.

Moru assumed Haoran just sounded robotic all the time. So hearing his voice with actual worry is... Odd. A little scary, to be honest. Because uh oh Moru's gonna have to talk about his feelings now. And he's scared that if he starts, he won't be able to *Stop.*

"..Thanks. I just- I- ...I haven't *Talked* About this before. Not *Verbally* Ever really." His stammers are from frustration at not knowing how to phrase what he's saying, not exactly nervousness.

"*So much* Has happened that I just- never talk about- so it is just in my head, but there's so *Much* In my head, and I don't know how to *Deal* With it so I just *Distract* Myself and- as we both can see- that's not exactly *Sustainable* Because *Here I am* On the hallway floor, feeling sorry for myself like some f[]king- I don't know. Sorry." Frustrated ranting is easier than genuinely talking about his feelings, but... He knows that he should.

"I don't know.. It's just that- there's *So much*, I feel horrible about putting it onto someone else. I don't know if I'd be able to stop talking if I started. So much is *Wrong*, there's so little that's actually *Okay*. And I keep trying to convince myself that things are better here, and they *Are* Better here- hold on." He pauses, thinking about how to phrase that better.

"I keep... Trying to convince myself that I need to get over everything because things are better here, but it's just... Now that I'm not trying to convince the people that should be caring for me that I'm worth paying attention to, I have too much free time and... I think too much." 

He pauses, nervously looking at Haoran.
Angel
_ _ 
**"..Thanks. I just- I- ...I haven't talked about this before. Not verbally ever really." **

"...." 

Is this prying? Haoran knows from experience that it's not good to pry. Should he back off? There were too many socetial norms and invisible boundaries in place when it came to social interaction, especially when it came to comforting others. He wish he could run a function explaining what he'd do, and that the terminal would simply tell him if there were errors. There is no debugging in conversations however, and he cannot take back what he says like he can delete lines of code. 

"..I won't pry it out of you if you're uncomfortable with it." 

Then, Mamoru begins talking. 

Not exactly about his problem, either. Rather, about the problems that come with it. All Haoran can do is stop and listen. There is no need for the green-haired boy to apologize about talking about his feelings, but he does so anyways, and the taller doesn't break the silence as Mamoru continues ranting. 

**"I don't know.. It's just that- there's so much, I feel horrible about putting it onto someone else. I don't know if I'd be able to stop talking if I started."**

*<I want to hear it.>* 

 *<I can't offer a solution if you don't tell me.>* 

But solutions aren't exactly what Mamoru wants — or needs, are they? It's the only thing Haoran is sure to be able to give him if it was a problem he could solve, and comfort.. It's not his forte. He's the wrong person to talk about this to, but he's the only person standing next to him in the hallway. 

**So much is wrong, there's so little that's actually okay. And I keep trying to convince myself that things are better here, and they are better here- hold on.**

"Take your time." 

He speaks, at last, and there's a moment of silence between the two before Mamoru re-composes his words. 

**"I keep... Trying to convince myself that I need to get over everything because things are better here, but it's just... Now that I'm not trying to convince the people that should be caring for me that I'm worth paying attention to, I have too much free time and... I think too much." **

"..I see. But better living conditions don't give closure nor solution to past.. Trauma. What I don't see is any reason to feel guilty that you haven't moved on from what you haven't gotten an answer to. You haven't recovered, and that's fine." 

Haoran pauses again, breaking eye contact to stop and think. It's clear he's actively trying to choose the right words to say — 

 and struggling. 

"I want you to talk to me about it. And I don't want you to stop talking about it." 

 "...It's about your family, is it not?"
Joshua
He wouldn't be opposed to being given solutions. Being told how to make everything better. It would be so much easier if someone just *Told him* How to make himself feel better. Instead, he has to try and figure it out himself, which has not been working.

It's why he is on the floor. Trying not to cry.

"...You're right. Just- things being better doesn't mean that it all goes away. I guess I just hoped it would. ..This is going to sound really stupid, and I know it's stupid but- I can just tell that everyone has their own problems to deal with. Even if they're good at hiding it. How do I phrase this.. I don't really have many hobbies. I understand why some people think I'm boring. But beyond what little I like, there's just me being upset. That's only interesting as long as it isn't annoying."

*It's about your family, is it not?* 
The line makes him breathe out a laugh. He doesn't know why. It's not funny. It's just so painfully accurate.

"..Yeah. Yeah, it is about my family. At large, it's them. My parents. I feel- cheated, to be honest. Like almost everyone else had parents who were what they were *Supposed* To be. They're supposed to love you unconditionally, and I thought mine did in their way, until one little rumor spreads across the *Whole f[]king town*, gets to my dad, and what do you know! It was *Always* Conditional." He laughs again. It's not funny. He lowers his head into his arms to hide the fact that he's starting to cry.

"And they only looked at me when I had something interesting to show. When I was *Good* Enough to look at. They only- they- th.. They only.."

And then, his voice raises, almost to a shout. "I never want to touch that *God d[]n* Violin again."
Angel
_ _ 

**"How do I phrase this.. I don't really have many hobbies. I understand why some people think I'm boring. But beyond what little I like, there's just me being upset. That's only interesting as long as it isn't annoying."**

...Did Mamoru just claim that he was boring? In front of Haoran? 

"You haven't found your passion yet is all." 

He comments, feeling concerned more than anything else to know that Mamoru's main hobby was being upset — did he not have any other friends? He had Craig, didn't he? And everyone else in the Intranet, excluding Ares? He frowns a little bit more when Mamoru laughs at his statement, and he nearly bites his tongue thinking he had gotten it completely wrong. 

He was not. 

He was dead-on. 

For the first time, Haoran didn't like being correct. 

**"They're supposed to love you unconditionally, and I thought mine did in their way, until one little rumor spreads across the whole f[]king town, gets to my dad, and what do you know! It was always conditional."**

*<It's always conditional.>*

Haoran slowly crouches to meet Mamoru's level on the floor, one hand hovering over his shoulder in hesitance before it promptly landed lightly where it floated over. He isn't sure how to comfort others. But he's had to do it plenty of times before. He rubs circles on Mamoru's back in an attempt to soothe him, but more importantly — 

"Just cry. Let it all out." 

**"And they only looked at me when I had something interesting to show. When I was good enough to look at. They only- they- th.. They only.."**

It reminds him of his own parents. People he only called his mother and father from obligatories — moral obligations. He didn't respect them. He didn't love them. But they raised him, and he would eventually have to replace them one day. It was clear that they didn't love him either; but an eldest son is an eldest son, and it was always him that would be the one to continue what they had built. 

And then, Mamoru shouts. Haoran doesn't stop though. It's the first time he's ever been on the floor crouching like this. The first time he's ever seen anyone allow themselves to be this vulnerable around him. 

His gaze nearly softens. 

"You don't have to. Leave it behind. You aren't alone, Mamoru. It's true that all children deserve parents, but it's just not the same the other way around... And when you're unfortunate, you end up with parents you can't help but feel are incompetent at what they're supposed to do." 

He pauses, tilting his head forward to see if he could get a glimpse of Mamoru's expression. 

"...I understand. Me too. My parents don't care about me either. It's okay to feel bad about it, Mamoru. In fact, you absolutely should."
Joshua
A passion? Mamoru? It seems nearly impossible. How is he supposed to do things for himself now, after all this time?

 Moru appreciates the shoulder touch, but doesn't comment on it.
It did help.

His shoulders shudder, a part of him trying desperately to keep it in. But... It doesn't win. With a quiet sob, the crying starts. Shoulder shuddering sobs. It's quiet, but definitely happening.

*Not all parents deserve children.*
Somehow, he hadn't considered that phrase previously, but it makes so much sense. 

Haoran can *Relate*, too. He lets out a chuckle. Not because it's funny, but because of how unfunny it is. How awful. "At.. At least we're not alone in that, I guess.."
Angel
_ _ 

Moru shudders when he pressed his hand against his back, and then — 

Ah. The waterworks. 

The way his heart drops is the same initial spike of fear when an exam begins. He knows it'll start — but when it does, he can't help but internally jump at the sound of it. 

*Pull-* 

Moru is heart-wrenchingly quiet, which only makes Haoran wonder how many times had he talked to the older boy with no one knowing that he had finished crying — because with that kind of volume, it would've been impossible to tell unless he was in a meter's proximity of Mamoru, which he is. He leans against the wall in his crouching position, bringing Moru with him so it's more comfortable for him to cry. A hand reaches over gently, pulling the green-haired boy into a hug, one hand in his hair and the other continuing to rub circles in his back. 

Haoran is silent the entire time, but his grasp is gentle and loose, easy for Mamoru to pull away if he found himself uncomfortable with the sudden close-contact. The chuckle that Moru lets out is painfully sorrowful, and even Haoran can tell. 

"Never. Never alone." 

It's too much emotion for him to really bear. He doesn't know what to say, words at the tip of his tongue before being swallowed thickly back down. He doesn't want to make the situation worse, but he's already this far in — 

What would Craig do? What would Uriel do? The *Nice* People of the Cradle, gentle and comforting unlike him — what would *They* Do in this situation? 

For the first time, Haoran feels like that there *Is* A need to lie — because he doesn't *Know* If it'll be alright. He doesn't know if he's doing the right thing. He's out of options; there's no solution to a problem based completely on emotion. On what has happened so long ago, so far from his reach and jurisdiction. What's done can't be fixed, and Moru's trauma and scars will never be erased. 

But he can kick his pride and his bad habits and his tradition to the side and give his friend a hug. He can feel it — the weight of his parents' expectations and disappointment. If only they knew what he was up to in the institution. Despite it being an academy for the abnormal, he can't help but feel that he's allowed to be human only here. 

So Haoran tries. 

"It's going to be all okay."

He murmurs, urging Moru to get it out of his system. It's barely a whisper. 

"It's gonna be alright."