[PRP] Why?

[BlackFireKitsune]

For what felt like weeks, Inigo sat alone in his cell, staring down at his hands or the floor or the bars that quite literally held him prisoner, his agonizing thoughts twisting the knot in his stomach worse with each passing day. He felt guilty enough without their pointed, blaming questions, which only served to further wrack him with guilt. At least some solace could be found in the dull, monotonous schedule he had every day - a solace which would be broken by something that only magnified his feelings of guilt and dread a hundredfold: He had a visitor.

That guilt and dread only multiplied further the closer he got to the room in which visits were held, so much so that he'd slowed his walking speed the closer he got. His efforts were in vain as the guard ushering him along lead him into the room, where a row of dividers separated sections of a lengthy glass wall separating visitors from those imprisoned. On the latter side, a stool had been affixed to the floor in front of each different section, while on the former side sat more (comparatively) comfortable chairs that weren't bolted to the floor. A simple black telephone hung from one wall of each division, its cord slipping down and winding around into the wall of the dividers to emerge the other side, connecting it to the matching phone that hung there. As they walked in, Inigo kept his gaze firmly downcast, looking for all the world like he didn't want to be there for even a single moment, and especially not wanting to look into the face of his visitor - not that they even told him who it'd be, anyway.  

[Tori Honoo]

Throughout her upbringing, Dove had always been one to keep up with the news, and as of her move to Kodo and the events that had taken place, she had multiplied her interest in daily happenings ten fold. Every evening that she could, she would watch for news of city events and Team Rocket, and though the news of PokeCon invasion had begun to grow stale, one particular clip had caught her interest, and had sent her heart plummeting through her stomach: the names and photos of the Rockets involved. The image of Izaya Orihara had received only a glare and a pleased nod, the next making her eyes go wide. After scrambling for the remote and rewinding the play, the identity was confirmed and she found herself nearly unable to sleep that evening, determined not to believe it until he proved it wasn't so.

When the time was found, she had made her way to the prison, shuddering at the atmosphere of the place as they led her into a room and a booth, assuring her they would return shortly with the young man she wished to visit. In silence, she waited, toying with a loose string at the hem of her shirt as she anticipated the talk to come.

When a face appeared, one she immediately recognized, she closed her eyes, unwilling to believe it, though there was no possible way it couldn't be true. After a few minutes of silence, she peeked again, her gaze far from his eyes as she reached for the phone at her side, her voice strained but calm. "Are you okay?"  

[BlackFireKitsune]

He didn't want to - really, really didn't want to - but he couldn't help a swift flick of his eyes upward to see who his visitor was. Ugh, he really really wished she wasn't here... More than that, he wished he wasn't here. If he hadn't been arrested, none of this would've happened. No, if he'd never joined Team Rocket, this never would've happened. No...

His thoughts continued in this way as he reached for the receiver on his end, holding it in one manacled hand with his green eyes trained on a corner of the table in front of him that sat beneath the glass separating them. If his appearance was anything to go off of, he likely felt as miserable as he looked. He nearly winced when he heard her voice - not from her words or her at all, but from the weight of his own guilt. "Ah.. Yeah, I'm fine," he replied softly, hesitated, then asked uncertainly, "Are you?"  

[Tori Honoo]

She nodded quietly, still unsure if she could bring herself to meet his gaze--if he would even allow it-- but lifted her eyes, determined to at least try. She owed him that much at least, and if he wouldn't look at her, that was just fine too. He looked awful... He wasn't a bad person, and given the circumstances...

She felt his words were heavy, and took a moment to think, before responding. "I've been better, but... I'm alright, I guess," she finally allowed, quietly. "I'm glad you're okay..." Sincerity laced her words. While, yes, he was a member of the organization that shook their ground, he had still been there when she had needed a friend... the least she could do was do the same for him.  

[BlackFireKitsune]

"I'm fine," he repeated, raising his other hand to rub it across his face with a soft sigh. "Please don't worry about me.." The guilt from lying to her - whether directly or otherwise - was already bad enough, but to know she at least worried over him even a little... It only added onto the already rising pile of guilt that was always eating away at him. Rather than ask her any questions - he couldn't think of any, anyway - he merely waited for her to speak. She had every right to guide the conversation however she wished - he had no right whatsoever to even think otherwise.  

[Tori Honoo]

She watched him with saddened eyes, understanding how uncomfortable he was with her there. But to not even try to talk with him would be even worse... He needed to know that someone cared outside of Rocket, and she needed to understand that he wasn't truly, truly Rocket.

She shook her head. "I can't not worry about you, Inigo...I..." She paused a minute, looking away from him. "I know how things work with Team Rocket, and I don't want you hurt. You've helped far too much for me to just turn a blind eye because of some group you're stuck in." Her words were quiet, and she hoped he could hear her. "Is... Is there anything you need...? Anything I can do?"  

[BlackFireKitsune]

He opened his mouth to speak, but closed it with a soft sigh. He didn't know how much she knew of Team Rocket, but he assumed it wasn't nearly as much as she thought. How many civilians truly knew or understood the depths of the organization, or what exactly could happen to them at any given time? Did any of them truly know just how common death was? While he didn't know exactly what type of aid she mean with her offer, he shook his head no regardless. In the end, it hardly mattered anyway - he didn't deserve anything but his time in jail, and he definitely didn't deserve her kindness. "Getting hurt is inevitable," he replied though, focusing on that instead, though he wasn't sure why.