He's about to see what happens when he doesn't, isn't he.
It's going to be the absolute same. Even if Hijikata doesn't lose Souji, Souji's going to lose Hijikata. And that makes nothing about Hijikata's reluctance to leave any less angry. He notices, he notices the other lingering and it's enough to make the hand pressing back against his mouth to try and prevent anything from being expelled in his cough to clench tight into a fist. When his hand wraps around the wakizashi, that too, is a vice-like grip, and his anger at this situation, at Hijikata ( —no, at himself— ), is enough to cause him to shake with it.
( why can't he just— )
Souji's grip doesn't loosen, but his coughing subsides, the sound leaving only for that shaking of his to be accompanied by a slow rise of laughter. He doesn't look up, his hand rubbing harshly against his mouth to wipe at the remaining blood before he pulls it away, it coming to rest against the sheaths of his blades, fingers curling about the wakizashi's in particular even though he doesn't draw yet. When he speaks next, his voice has very little volume to it, but there's a slight slant in the tone that makes it clear someone's a little more than off his hinge in a moment of lost self-control. It's a much bigger scale of loss.
"That's so like you... to never listen when it matters most." But as he continues, the unbalanced calm starts to lose both its poor veil and the quiet gives way to rising volume, to the hate that's underneath it all. "It's so like you to pick the wrong person to change your mind over when you already did it to everyone else!" Jaw clenched tight, he shifts, no longer using the wall to support himself and he unsheathes his blade as he stands.
The only thing that doesn't fit this scenario is, even in his own now lost thoughts, is the burn in his eyes ( the sting of salt water, maybe it's sweat or blood in there making them water, he doesn't know he doesn't care he really doesn't he's going to kill him he's just going to kill him because he can't take a hint and whatever what the hell ever is he's not going to listen then that's okay that's perfectthatsso ) that travels down his cheeks to curve under his jawline.
It's so like you... to make me have to do everything I don't want to. This is why we can't—
you're just in time to get eaten again :Db
It's going to be the absolute same. Even if Hijikata doesn't lose Souji, Souji's going to lose Hijikata. And that makes nothing about Hijikata's reluctance to leave any less angry. He notices, he notices the other lingering and it's enough to make the hand pressing back against his mouth to try and prevent anything from being expelled in his cough to clench tight into a fist. When his hand wraps around the wakizashi, that too, is a vice-like grip, and his anger at this situation, at Hijikata ( —no, at himself— ), is enough to cause him to shake with it.
( why can't he just— )
Souji's grip doesn't loosen, but his coughing subsides, the sound leaving only for that shaking of his to be accompanied by a slow rise of laughter. He doesn't look up, his hand rubbing harshly against his mouth to wipe at the remaining blood before he pulls it away, it coming to rest against the sheaths of his blades, fingers curling about the wakizashi's in particular even though he doesn't draw yet. When he speaks next, his voice has very little volume to it, but there's a slight slant in the tone that makes it clear someone's a little more than off his hinge in a moment of lost self-control. It's a much bigger scale of loss.
"That's so like you... to never listen when it matters most." But as he continues, the unbalanced calm starts to lose both its poor veil and the quiet gives way to rising volume, to the hate that's underneath it all. "It's so like you to pick the wrong person to change your mind over when you already did it to everyone else!" Jaw clenched tight, he shifts, no longer using the wall to support himself and he unsheathes his blade as he stands.
The only thing that doesn't fit this scenario is, even in his own now lost thoughts, is the burn in his eyes ( the sting of salt water, maybe it's sweat or blood in there making them water, he doesn't know he doesn't care he really doesn't he's going to kill him he's just going to kill him because he can't take a hint and whatever what the hell ever is he's not going to listen then that's okay that's perfectthatsso ) that travels down his cheeks to curve under his jawline.
It's so like you... to make me have to do everything I don't want to. This is why we can't—
—i really hate you.