He doesn't want to -- disappoint him. There's a lot going on in his head right now, so much he feels set to burst. He wanted it to be a joke, some sort of humorous... logical ruse. A way to mock him for his devotion towards fans and their words. But he knew from the moment he got halfway down the page, it was real. He knew better than that, read enough to differentiate, too. He glances up at Aizawa, who is tucking his chin and probably wanting to melt into the floorboards.
He wasn't going to say it to his face... That much is clear.
He folds the letter very carefully, holding it like its glass, intentions clear; he's not going to burn it. Of course he's not. Whatever happens with this, he values Aizawa's honest feelings too much to ever downplay them. To think less of them. Sometime this year... he may not even be here to read this. How unfair is that, that he let this go on, knowing he was potentially standing at a great ravine he couldn't walk away from?
He steps forward, and reaches out, taking the clenched fist in one hand before placing his other hand atop it. It's still... insane, to think he... But he's not going to wave it all away as childish or naive. Because then, what would he be?]
I'm sorry. For saying it so dismissively. Your kindness has been -- invaluable in ways I can't explain. You've even saved my life. [He laughs softer.] But I can't... I need to think. I have to think.
[... He smiles, forlorn, at the ground. Toshinori had been selfish to push his luck, and now Aizawa's paying the price. And yet despite how he wants to bottle it up, hide it from the other to help soothe the sting, it tumbles out of his mouth before he can even think.
Because maybe Aizawa wasn't the only one to take advantage of the situation, to feel this one-sided... something.
Of course, it didn't go to plan. He can't even look him in the eye, he's so ashamed.]
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He doesn't want to -- disappoint him. There's a lot going on in his head right now, so much he feels set to burst. He wanted it to be a joke, some sort of humorous... logical ruse. A way to mock him for his devotion towards fans and their words. But he knew from the moment he got halfway down the page, it was real. He knew better than that, read enough to differentiate, too. He glances up at Aizawa, who is tucking his chin and probably wanting to melt into the floorboards.
He wasn't going to say it to his face... That much is clear.
He folds the letter very carefully, holding it like its glass, intentions clear; he's not going to burn it. Of course he's not. Whatever happens with this, he values Aizawa's honest feelings too much to ever downplay them. To think less of them. Sometime this year... he may not even be here to read this. How unfair is that, that he let this go on, knowing he was potentially standing at a great ravine he couldn't walk away from?
He steps forward, and reaches out, taking the clenched fist in one hand before placing his other hand atop it. It's still... insane, to think he... But he's not going to wave it all away as childish or naive. Because then, what would he be?]
I'm sorry. For saying it so dismissively. Your kindness has been -- invaluable in ways I can't explain. You've even saved my life. [He laughs softer.] But I can't... I need to think. I have to think.
[... He smiles, forlorn, at the ground. Toshinori had been selfish to push his luck, and now Aizawa's paying the price. And yet despite how he wants to bottle it up, hide it from the other to help soothe the sting, it tumbles out of his mouth before he can even think.
Because maybe Aizawa wasn't the only one to take advantage of the situation, to feel this one-sided... something.
Of course, it didn't go to plan. He can't even look him in the eye, he's so ashamed.]
You weren't supposed to love me back.