'Another version', like a past life? Hmm. If one were inclined towards believing in that sort of thing, I guess...
But otherwise it's all just random bits and pieces of scenes. That may or may not be real. ...I'd just like to know why they're even necessary.
[Or how it's done, and how to make it quit--but nobody seems to have any leads on that, it seems. ...It's so ridiculous. Aizawa watches the people milling about the storefront, the streets up ahead, the buildings beyond that, and it's all so painfully and utterly normal...as if this conversation shouldn't even be taking place here. It's a sense of disconnect that's been plaguing him for the last month, and Aizawa doesn't know how to reconcile it, and it bothers him.
But every now and then the disconnect does go away, and reality sets in a little bit harder--sometimes in the normal direction, sometimes in the abnormal one. Like it did a few days ago, in the classroom...
He looks back over to Shouto just in time to see his touching his left cheek, incidentally. The pause is brief, but then Aizawa's shifting, speaking again even as he moves to drop the popsicle stick and wrapper in the trash can at one end of the bench.]
I don't know what else to make of them. I don't know why Izuku's in them either.
[But those memories aren't the ones that hurt.
Reality seems like a far off memory, which is just ridiculous. He's sitting on a park bench eating popsicles with his teacher.
On second thought, that's a little weird, but not 'set himself on fire' weird.
The question comes and he hesitates. He's not sure.]
... Better than that day.
[That's the lowest possible bar, he's pretty sure. But he's definitely doing better than that. He hopes that day is obvious enough he doesn't have to admit to igniting himself in public.]
[Fortunately for Shouto, what he means by 'that day' certainly is pretty obvious, at least as far as Aizawa's concerned. No need to say it out loud, at any rate; Aizawa nods shortly, settling back against the bench and folding his arms with a small sigh.]
...That's good. To be frank, you didn't exactly look like you were in great shape when you left that time. Well, aside from the obvious--nobody much enjoys getting sprayed by a fire extinguisher, I'm sure. [A vague trace of dry humor there, mostly at his own expense, there and gone again.] ...I'm not going to ask what happened there, exactly. I get a feeling that something probably did, but you can talk about that on your own time, ideally with somebody you're comfortable with.
But talking to anybody is better than not talking at all, probably. As a suggestion. [And now Aizawa's slowly standing up off the bench, straightening his shirt.] --I think that's about it, on my end. Thanks for coming out here. If anything else related to you comes up on the memory front I'll probably be be letting you know again, though I'm hoping nothing does.
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But otherwise it's all just random bits and pieces of scenes. That may or may not be real. ...I'd just like to know why they're even necessary.
[Or how it's done, and how to make it quit--but nobody seems to have any leads on that, it seems. ...It's so ridiculous. Aizawa watches the people milling about the storefront, the streets up ahead, the buildings beyond that, and it's all so painfully and utterly normal...as if this conversation shouldn't even be taking place here. It's a sense of disconnect that's been plaguing him for the last month, and Aizawa doesn't know how to reconcile it, and it bothers him.
But every now and then the disconnect does go away, and reality sets in a little bit harder--sometimes in the normal direction, sometimes in the abnormal one. Like it did a few days ago, in the classroom...
He looks back over to Shouto just in time to see his touching his left cheek, incidentally. The pause is brief, but then Aizawa's shifting, speaking again even as he moves to drop the popsicle stick and wrapper in the trash can at one end of the bench.]
...How've you been holding up? Recently.
no subject
[But those memories aren't the ones that hurt.
Reality seems like a far off memory, which is just ridiculous. He's sitting on a park bench eating popsicles with his teacher.
On second thought, that's a little weird, but not 'set himself on fire' weird.
The question comes and he hesitates. He's not sure.]
... Better than that day.
[That's the lowest possible bar, he's pretty sure. But he's definitely doing better than that. He hopes that day is obvious enough he doesn't have to admit to igniting himself in public.]
no subject
...That's good. To be frank, you didn't exactly look like you were in great shape when you left that time. Well, aside from the obvious--nobody much enjoys getting sprayed by a fire extinguisher, I'm sure. [A vague trace of dry humor there, mostly at his own expense, there and gone again.] ...I'm not going to ask what happened there, exactly. I get a feeling that something probably did, but you can talk about that on your own time, ideally with somebody you're comfortable with.
But talking to anybody is better than not talking at all, probably. As a suggestion. [And now Aizawa's slowly standing up off the bench, straightening his shirt.] --I think that's about it, on my end. Thanks for coming out here. If anything else related to you comes up on the memory front I'll probably be be letting you know again, though I'm hoping nothing does.