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(Cheaply longing for the strength to be found in that mysterious voice
I pathetically drank my fill of those words that soothed my barren heart)
It’s such a smooth voice, and such a brilliant mind that fills him brimming with envy, the warm, glistening feeling of love instead wrapping painfully tighter with every feeling of jealousy swirling and enveloping him. but then again, it might have been the reason just why he joined the guild, and it might be why he follows the detective around like some love sick puppy, like the pathetic little animal he would be.
The weight of Karl on his shoulder doesn’t have any effect of the pain of the feelings.
(And then the sickly-sweet flavor of the tears this boy sheds afterward
Only serves to scratch him at the places that hurt the most)
“It’s easy, who the murderer is. It was the the maid.”
Intoxicating, and well as repulsing, the feeling is, when the detective closes the book and puts it down like another boring book. The smile is blinding, but the words are so... so...!
Ah. He’s making a bit of a mess on the papers isn’t he? How brilliant. How did he figure it out so fast?
(If I must be shown
Such a horrible, horrible sight, then…)
(I’d rather grow my bangs and cover up my eyes
Perhaps then, this slightly unpleasant day
Will “disappear to some faraway place,” I thought)
The detective asked him about the bangs once, and really, he figures that he would know the answer already, but he doesn’t have the heart to tell the truth. The detective does know already, does he not? That he knows everything, and why he can’t show his eyes anymore, right?
The nerves just tie Poe into the bed.
(I’ll grow my bangs and cover up my eyes
So that my face, and my cold, cynical gaze
Won’t be exposed to your scrutiny;
So that I won’t have to look at you)
(DO YOU LIKE ME?)
(YES!)
Why?
(Crudely reliving the emotions felt within those mellow memories
I pathetically gnawed on those words that lighted up my shadowy heart
And then the iron taste of the blood this boy sheds afterward
Would give him peace and sooth the places that hurt the most)
There is blood on his tongue, and it’s dripping down his mouth. How handsome, his— the detective is, twisting people with just his words alone, dropping them one by one to his feet, spilling out tears and uncovered truths. It’s such a stark contrast to how freely of a child he acts, clinging first thing to the doctor, like friends, laughing merrily away. He can’t make it to walk right in like that, asking the other to read a flimsy manuscript...
It’s jealousy dripping, isn’t it?
(If I must look at)
Such a cruel, cruel sight every day, then…
(I’d rather grow my bangs and cover up my eyes
For I don’t need to look at anything—neither that painful future
Nor the sight of the newscaster making a show of their “sympathy.”)
Pity is such a suffocating feeling, not even his smile is worth for him to look at. Karl feels like something that shouldn’t be adding up to his anxiety. At least the tears can’t be seen, welling up behind disgustingly long locks.
Poe wonders what future is left for him.
for them...?
(I’ll grow my bangs and cover up my eyes
So that my face, and my gloomy gaze
Will vanish from within you;
So that it’ll all be “someone else’s problem.”)
(DO YOU LIKE ME?)
(Shocked to find out the true extent
Of your cruelty
I let go of your hand in mine
And decide
To forget about all the things
We promised each other)
“I love you too, Poe.”
Ah...
(If I must take in)
(Such a painful, painful love)
then…then...!
(I’d rather grow my bangs and cover up my eyes
For I don’t need to look at anything—neither this broken love
Nor the regret that’s coiling about my whole body)
”Poe-kun, I want to see your eyes!”
(please don’t. stop, stop.)
(I’ll avert my eyes from the reality of the future after we say goodbye
And as before
I hope I can go on smiling with you
Just so these contrived, pretty tears won’t go dry…!)
”...Poe, why are you...?”
”It’s nothing to worry about, thank you.”
(DO YOU LOVE ME?)