I'm not going to ask anyone to experiment on you. That's not - after all of what you just told me, I'd never suggest anything like that.

[ and it's frustrating to see that heine doesn't trust him enough to see his good will for what it is.

yet — can rin truly blame him? taken as a child, stripped of his humanity, forced to live with a bastardization of his own worst traits lurking in the shadows of his heart. one wrong turn and the ribcage closes, the blood turns sour in his mouth. maybe that's all that rin is, a moment away from his thoughts, a distraction.

worse than that, rin can't blame him. there are monsters and monsters lurking in tellus, each of which wouldn't think twice before grinding human bone and sinew to dust. but heine's worst fears are inside of him.

of course rin can't blame him. ]

But -- you think I don't see how rattled you are?

[ this is the only way rin knows to reach out. maybe tellus has stripped him of his softness, his ability to drop the gnashing teeth and flame-bright eyes.

but heine - of all people - should understand. ]

You think this tough-guy shit is gonna hide any of that?

[ it's not about saving all of them - rin knows fully well how small his hands are, how great and vast the universe is. it's not even about saving the other inhabitants of tellus, though that would be the logical argument.

it's about that edge of desperation that rin can read in the tight angles of heine's body, as clearly as if he'd spoken it aloud.

i just want to help, is what rin is telegraphing. a thin, wavering note that he wishes he could make audible. ]

Newsflash: it isn't.

[ it doesn't matter. even if heine tells him to fuck off, rin's going to do what he thinks is best. ]