( he hadn’t thought about how much this may hurt dice. hadn’t exactly put into the calculus of things that dice had his own demons and grappled with the hurt and reality of it all.

wasn’t it so much easier to think of dice as a hopeless and clueless gambling addict? wasn’t that just easier to process?

gentaro doesn’t make any move to touch his own ring, but he does keep his gaze fixed on dice’s hand. as if he expects the thing to be flung back in his face. he supposes that would be fair. )

I don’t deserve anything, really. ( he says it a bit emptily, feeling raw and put on display strangely. he ought to stop deflecting, stop trying to just sidestep everything . )

I said that because I knew, even subconsciously, to some degree that it would upset you. And I did that because I was hurt.

( it’s weird to dissect his own feelings like this. but maybe it’s time. )

I suppose I fixated on something in my control in order to ignore that I was hurt because I’m afraid. You’re an addict, but I’m also a liar. I don’t think I have any right to judge you.