[Midousuji reels back, then glances away in sheepish, irritable dodginess, not unlike the expression he took as a child when bullied by his peers but trying to stand up for himself.]

Bonds aren’t all that special, [Midousuji answers sharply, quietly. awkwardly.] Anyone can do it. There’s a ceremony, but it can be utilitarian; with a stranger.

[when Ishigaki says it’d be a nightmare for someone like Midousuji, his shoulders hike and his pupils pinprick, his hand furling in a tense claw against his mask, eyes widening. he isn’t wrong. it’s so uncomfortable being around someone who perceives him so clearly; Midousuji never liked it, but he’s less equipped to brace against it, having so foolishly not anticipated that he might run into such a person in this place.]

Shut up, [he sharply snaps to Ishigaki’s comment about Midousuji’s needed push, spat in a muffle against his mask, which has been bunched back up across his mouth. he’d just had the upper-hand. why was this happening?! he had to get his head back on right.]

Well, [Midousuji answers, coolly rolling his suddenly half-lid eyes to Ishigaki.] Try to not lose your mind too hard; Bonds are disorienting, too, you know.

[Midousuji takes a couple of stiff, jaunting strides towards Ishigaki—and launches a gloved hand forward, wrenching Ishigaki’s face up towards his. Midousuji looks unamused.]

You’re especially susceptible to losing yourself in other people. Bonds, you can feel the way another person feels—and they can feel how you feel, too. Sometimes, it’s even true with dreams. Memories.

[Midousuji’s eyes narrow with contempt.]

Someone like you… You’d get lost in it, without even seeing the danger. Asking gross randoms so brazenly to hang out with you with no fielding or vetting. Disgusting. So undiscerning. You really have no shame.

[his grip tightens.]

This place isn’t for someone who doesn’t know how to be alone just as much as it isn’t for someone who only knows how to be alone.