[it's a word with a strange amount of weight to it, as all terms that humans find important seem to be to her. Lapis feels as if she's being presented with a concept she only half grasps, something that she understands as important only through secondhand information. in many ways she's afraid to touch it.]
It's alright.
[she hedges her answer in order to buy herself more time to grapple with the request. the openness of some humans still put her on edge, a remnant of the changed Homeworld she'd been forced to navigate. Lapis had done nothing to earn such enthusiasm or regard, and to be given it with no ulterior motives seemed far too good to be true.
it had been easier to accept with Gran, who had been so earnest in his desire for friendship. there had been a kindred spark there, an understanding of the difficulties which came from standing apart on a planet despite one's best efforts. she could understand why he'd want to share something so meaningful with her.
Sakuma has none of that. she can't imagine what he could possibly hope to gain from stepping into Gran's place - and she isn't sure that she wants to. one of the few lights in this world has been her freedom from use as nothing more than a tool. she isn't certain she could bear to have that taken from her, especially with something that had once been precious.]
People leave all the time. I'll be fine.
[she wants to learn. she wants the soccer ball sitting in her closet to have some sort of meaning aside from memorializing another lost friend. but she doesn't know if she can trust this hand - not even enough to admit that Gran hadn't yet taught her how to play.]
no subject
It's alright.
[she hedges her answer in order to buy herself more time to grapple with the request. the openness of some humans still put her on edge, a remnant of the changed Homeworld she'd been forced to navigate. Lapis had done nothing to earn such enthusiasm or regard, and to be given it with no ulterior motives seemed far too good to be true.
it had been easier to accept with Gran, who had been so earnest in his desire for friendship. there had been a kindred spark there, an understanding of the difficulties which came from standing apart on a planet despite one's best efforts. she could understand why he'd want to share something so meaningful with her.
Sakuma has none of that. she can't imagine what he could possibly hope to gain from stepping into Gran's place - and she isn't sure that she wants to. one of the few lights in this world has been her freedom from use as nothing more than a tool. she isn't certain she could bear to have that taken from her, especially with something that had once been precious.]
People leave all the time. I'll be fine.
[she wants to learn. she wants the soccer ball sitting in her closet to have some sort of meaning aside from memorializing another lost friend. but she doesn't know if she can trust this hand - not even enough to admit that Gran hadn't yet taught her how to play.]