[One remains to be seen, the other -- well. Koby would argue that his continued existence is proof enough that he's capable of caring for himself, neverminding the fact that there's a significant gap between "cared for" and "existing". He's still strong enough to provide, in some way, for those remaining that he has an attachment to. Some of it's Luffy's lingering influence, like a ghost in every encounter Koby has with his crew, echoing in the background with that bittersweet, persistent reminder that the three of them have nothing in common with Koby except for their attachment to the absent captain.
And some of it -- isn't. If something happened to the Strawhats (when it happens, Koby corrects himself, eyes flickering to the still-visible signs of Zoro's encounter with the dismembering carnival), the grief and concern wouldn't solely be because they matter to Luffy. They matter to Koby too. So he wants to contribute, in any way he can -- which right now is fishing. Lots and lots of fishing.
The sealskin puddles a little more firmly against Zoro's leg, and Koby absently reaches out to gather it back onto his lap. It's an extension of him, an echo of everything he is, but it's also a product of the strange, witchy magic around them, and therefore it does what it pleases. Like now, slipping like quicksilver through Koby's fingers and draping over the twitching tip of Zoro's tail. Frowning, blushing, Koby scoops the skin up and holds it firmly against his chest.] Sorry.
[And then -- that question, sending Koby's stomach twisting and his throat aching with old tears. He doesn't want to think about it, so he doesn't, even as it throbs in his chest like an open wound. Loss is something he's accustomed to, easier than affection in the long run, easier to adjust somewhere inside his ribs, a living, clawing thing. He looks down and away, draws a shuddering breath.] No. [Thick, tight.] I -- sleep in the river, usually. [He hasn't been back to the cottage. He doesn't think he ever will.] As -- a seal, obviously. I'm not stupid.
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Date: 2024-04-02 01:39 am (UTC)And some of it -- isn't. If something happened to the Strawhats (when it happens, Koby corrects himself, eyes flickering to the still-visible signs of Zoro's encounter with the dismembering carnival), the grief and concern wouldn't solely be because they matter to Luffy. They matter to Koby too. So he wants to contribute, in any way he can -- which right now is fishing. Lots and lots of fishing.
The sealskin puddles a little more firmly against Zoro's leg, and Koby absently reaches out to gather it back onto his lap. It's an extension of him, an echo of everything he is, but it's also a product of the strange, witchy magic around them, and therefore it does what it pleases. Like now, slipping like quicksilver through Koby's fingers and draping over the twitching tip of Zoro's tail. Frowning, blushing, Koby scoops the skin up and holds it firmly against his chest.] Sorry.
[And then -- that question, sending Koby's stomach twisting and his throat aching with old tears. He doesn't want to think about it, so he doesn't, even as it throbs in his chest like an open wound. Loss is something he's accustomed to, easier than affection in the long run, easier to adjust somewhere inside his ribs, a living, clawing thing. He looks down and away, draws a shuddering breath.] No. [Thick, tight.] I -- sleep in the river, usually. [He hasn't been back to the cottage. He doesn't think he ever will.] As -- a seal, obviously. I'm not stupid.