[His head does turn when she leans in, chin low so he can looks at her over his shoulder from the edges of his eyes. An Empire grown old and unwieldy. Barbarians at the gates. Corruption within. Younger, hungrier outsiders wanting in. Human history hovers at the edge of his thoughts, whispers. And, for the first time, he feels something inside of his chest growing tight and for a long moment he doesn't realize what the painful feeling is.
Hope.
It's... hope.
He swallows, brows still down, not sure he trusts it. Not sure he wants it. It can't be that easy. It won't. But - a chance to fight in a fight that makes a difference instead of just for repetitive entertainment and survival...
He hears the darkness in her voice over his shoulder, sees the flicker at the edge of his vision of another white haired woman with hunger and darkness in her voice but he doesn't shudder.
There's a time and a place for darkness. Shiro's swallowed enough of it himself to know. His hands still around the glass. She spoke earlier of buying time. Now she sounds much more immediate. Is it his resistance to the first plan that's set the time scale forward? There's no question of whether he'll go or not. All he asks is:]
no subject
Hope.
It's... hope.
He swallows, brows still down, not sure he trusts it. Not sure he wants it. It can't be that easy. It won't. But - a chance to fight in a fight that makes a difference instead of just for repetitive entertainment and survival...
He hears the darkness in her voice over his shoulder, sees the flicker at the edge of his vision of another white haired woman with hunger and darkness in her voice but he doesn't shudder.
There's a time and a place for darkness. Shiro's swallowed enough of it himself to know. His hands still around the glass. She spoke earlier of buying time. Now she sounds much more immediate. Is it his resistance to the first plan that's set the time scale forward? There's no question of whether he'll go or not. All he asks is:]
When?