[ Zuko's face blanches only when Nobunaga admits to having killed his brother, but he wears a pretty good stern poker face after that, and doesn't interrupt. It takes him pause to reply, chewing the man's words over carefully, with a ruminative sip of his tea before he speaks ]
...I'll talk to Hikaru about what he knows about you. And Mitsuhide. And I'll ask my other Italian-Japanese friend Gokudera, too. He knows about a lot of stuff. Maybe he knows something different about how history remembers you.
[ That's what it comes down to. History's remembrance. These moves are hard ones to hear casually off the cuff, but he comes from royalty and a military state in the midst of a century-long war culture, so he's much more desensitized to things like "I killed my brother" and "I burned down a village" than maybe most. In fact, he doesn't bat an eyelash at the comment about burning down Mt. Hiei. Zuko's burned down villages himself, and he's not even seventeen yet. Whoops. The cockiness that Nobunaga nonchalantly shrugs off, though, that fade from dark tones to haughty arrogance, "I won, whatever," chills Zuko a bit, and leaves him with a complex, simple question. ]
...Why were the monks killed?
[ He glances aside, uncertain whether he should share as much about his world, too fascinated by Nobunaga's, but bits must be, he figures, and meets his eye with a strange steeliness. ]
...The Air Nomads were all killed in my world, decades ago, almost a century. There was a genocide. The Fire Lord at the time, Sozin, was responsible — it started off a century-long world war my nation has spearheaded ever since.
[ He frowns, eyes finding the tabletop again uncomfortably. ]
Sozin betrayed his best friend on his quest for power. His best friend was the Avatar, as well — but his last incarnation, Roku. Roku spared Sozin's life in the name of their friendship. But if he hadn't— the Air Nomads would still exist today, and the world wouldn't be so burned and scarred. The war would have never happened and the Fire Nation wouldn't be what it is today. He showed mercy instead of foresight. I think about them a lot lately... ...They were like brothers. They grew up together. Even shared a birthday.
[ He looks up once more, emotive, complex, earnest, meeting Nobunaga's eye at the brothers comment. He's not mentioning that these men both happened to be his own great-grandfathers. Not just yet. ]
I think any leaders are all forced to be crabs in a bucket, in a way. But even in war, still part of them keeps them soft-hearted humans by nature, too — still just regular people. That makes it scary to me, honestly. It's easier to be one or the other. I worry about being able to tell which way the scales are tipping... I've always been the nail that sticks out, too. After so much hammering— sometimes it's hard to see straight, I guess...
[ This got way more intimate than he expected it to, and he looks away again, rubbing the back of his head nervously with a soft scowl. ]
no subject
...I'll talk to Hikaru about what he knows about you. And Mitsuhide. And I'll ask my other Italian-Japanese friend Gokudera, too. He knows about a lot of stuff. Maybe he knows something different about how history remembers you.
[ That's what it comes down to. History's remembrance. These moves are hard ones to hear casually off the cuff, but he comes from royalty and a military state in the midst of a century-long war culture, so he's much more desensitized to things like "I killed my brother" and "I burned down a village" than maybe most. In fact, he doesn't bat an eyelash at the comment about burning down Mt. Hiei. Zuko's burned down villages himself, and he's not even seventeen yet. Whoops. The cockiness that Nobunaga nonchalantly shrugs off, though, that fade from dark tones to haughty arrogance, "I won, whatever," chills Zuko a bit, and leaves him with a complex, simple question. ]
...Why were the monks killed?
[ He glances aside, uncertain whether he should share as much about his world, too fascinated by Nobunaga's, but bits must be, he figures, and meets his eye with a strange steeliness. ]
...The Air Nomads were all killed in my world, decades ago, almost a century. There was a genocide. The Fire Lord at the time, Sozin, was responsible — it started off a century-long world war my nation has spearheaded ever since.
[ He frowns, eyes finding the tabletop again uncomfortably. ]
Sozin betrayed his best friend on his quest for power. His best friend was the Avatar, as well — but his last incarnation, Roku. Roku spared Sozin's life in the name of their friendship. But if he hadn't— the Air Nomads would still exist today, and the world wouldn't be so burned and scarred. The war would have never happened and the Fire Nation wouldn't be what it is today. He showed mercy instead of foresight. I think about them a lot lately... ...They were like brothers. They grew up together. Even shared a birthday.
[ He looks up once more, emotive, complex, earnest, meeting Nobunaga's eye at the brothers comment. He's not mentioning that these men both happened to be his own great-grandfathers. Not just yet. ]
I think any leaders are all forced to be crabs in a bucket, in a way. But even in war, still part of them keeps them soft-hearted humans by nature, too — still just regular people. That makes it scary to me, honestly. It's easier to be one or the other. I worry about being able to tell which way the scales are tipping... I've always been the nail that sticks out, too. After so much hammering— sometimes it's hard to see straight, I guess...
[ This got way more intimate than he expected it to, and he looks away again, rubbing the back of his head nervously with a soft scowl. ]