[ For his attempts at being kind, Dokja is repaid with a precocious scowl and an immediate retort of: ]
I know that. Don't treat me like I'm stupid. [ Because what child enjoys being treated like what they are -- a child? Gen looks away before kicking his feet once more, dragging the heel of his sneaker against the dirt. ] And it wasn't a fight.
[ He won't say what it is, though. There's a moment where he opens his mouth to say something then immediately catches himself, pursing his lips once more; he can't admit to being so weak that the prospect of his most treasured person moving away scares him. He's a boy, he has to be tough and strong. ]
... mister, what's it like where you're from? [ It's an abrupt change of pace, in the way that children often direct their conversations, but maybe Dokja can slowly glean some hint of what kind of logic Gen's working on. ] Are you from a big city? Someplace far away?
no subject
I know that. Don't treat me like I'm stupid. [ Because what child enjoys being treated like what they are -- a child? Gen looks away before kicking his feet once more, dragging the heel of his sneaker against the dirt. ] And it wasn't a fight.
[ He won't say what it is, though. There's a moment where he opens his mouth to say something then immediately catches himself, pursing his lips once more; he can't admit to being so weak that the prospect of his most treasured person moving away scares him. He's a boy, he has to be tough and strong. ]
... mister, what's it like where you're from? [ It's an abrupt change of pace, in the way that children often direct their conversations, but maybe Dokja can slowly glean some hint of what kind of logic Gen's working on. ] Are you from a big city? Someplace far away?