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“Do you think Swansea likes me?” Daisuke asked out of the blue, fiddling with the hem of his shirt. He never could sit still, always needing to move in some was.
Anya was sat opposite him, on the couches of the seating. While Daisuke found himself more comfortable leaning against the time screen that currently displayed the sun setting as it got later. Her expression was curious, wondering why on earth he’d ask such a thing. Before she could give any form of an answer, Daisuke spoke again.
“‘Cause, I can’t tell if he does,” he shook his head with a bit of a shrug. “I had these friends, and I thought they liked me. Even when they caught on that I thought they didn’t like me they were all ‘what? Of course we like you Daisuke! You think we’d hang around you if we didn’t?’” As he sighed, he deflated. “They all ditched me one day. Barely ever spoke to me again until it just went totally silent from them. So they didn’t like me. At all. They were a bunch of liars!”
Unsure of what to say, Anya kept quiet for a moment. After all, she was a nurse, not a therapist. And even then, she didn’t feel like much of a nurse. Not a well educated one, at least. “I don’t think Swansea hates any of us.” Was Anya’s final answer, hoping it’s reassure the young man.
“Well, but..” Daisuke sort of moved his hands about, struggling to think of what he wanted to say. “He’s always saying how I’m a bit of a tool. How I can’t do anything alone.” He pouted, continuing. “My dad used to say stuff like that. How I’m infuriating to be around. That I’m just an annoying prick at times.”
This was possibly one of the only times Daisuke had openly talked about his father. For the most part, he talked about his mom. The woman who had high hopes for him. The ones he never reached. But his father? He barely spoke of him.
“Swansea doesn’t mean it, though. He’s just.. old and frustrated.” Anya sat forward slightly as she spoke. “It’s like..” she tried thinking of a way to explain her thoughts on the matter. “How I might call a jacket lousy when I’m struggling to zip it up. The jackets not lousy at all, it’s still a very nice jacket. I’m just frustrated at it.”
Anya’s explanation was certainly a strange one, at least Daisuke thought so. His eyebrow rose as he thought about what she was trying to say. “So.. he still finds me annoying then?”
“He’s the kind of guy who’d flip a table because of a coffee stain, I wouldn’t take it personally.” It was tough to explain Swansea’s behaviour towards Daisuke, or really any of the crew. But she tried. “He’s not an affectionate man, but I’m sure he appreciates your effort.”
Despite it sounding assuring, Daisuke just couldn’t bring himself to think Swansea did indeed like having him around. “What if it’s like my friends? Where they’re just saying that to keep me around?” He frowned, “or like my dad? Only good when I’m being useful in the ‘correct way’” Daisuke slumped further against the wall.
She was struggling to get it through to him that although Swansea wasn’t the kindest man to the crew, he still cared. Anya sat back a bit, chewing the nail on her thumb before deciding to tell him something. “He once said you were like his son,” she admitted, “not like the son he already has, but like a son to him. As if you were his own kid.”
Daisuke’s expression froze a little as he stared back at her. He looked surprised, yet soft. Until it eventually twisted into a bit of an ugly crying face which he quickly covered with his hands. He couldn’t explain why that made him cry. Daisuke prided himself on never crying at various “sad movie scenes,” so why on earth was this make him so upset?