Hey, uh, I know mine's probably not the mug ya were hopin' when ya had a visitor, but...
[ but majima's here now. and it's too late to take it back. that's kind of been his philosophy through this whole experience. one foot in font of the other. force yourself to keep going. he'd heard about what had happened to yato through the grapevine - not the details of what had happened, just that he was in jail. maybe his first thought should've been what did he do, but it's not. it's is he okay?
it eats on him, just like the slow realization that his memories of yato are starting to to feel fuzzy at best. if retrospec had made them forget all these things that had happened in the past - could it make them forget people in the present? that thought scares him. it's as depressing as the idea that he'd known kiryu for so long and just somehow forgotten all of that, forgotten kiryu and this whole host of characters from hard-on-san to ken-watanabe-in-the-shitty-dreams-movie to the girl.
the truth is, he doesn't want to go see him. it feels so wrong to go see yato, when he hasn't gone to see his brother in three years. it feels like a betrayal of his brother to see a friend he'd made in the last year instead of the man he'd chosen to grow up with. what would his brother say, if he knew about this? that majima had worked up the courage to come here, now, but hadn't been able to face him in three years? but his brother was upstate and it was too hard. too hard to face him, too hard to know what to say. knowing that all the blame was on him, but it was his brother who was in jail. when it should've been him, when he should've been the one to rot in prison for the rest of his life, and wouldn't it have been the honorable thing just to die?
(somedays, the same thoughts he's always had carry a different kind of weight. somedays, words like honor feel like the heaviest of all.)
but the more he thinks about the things he can't remember about yato, the more that he knows that while he may not want to visit yato, it is something that he needs to do. maybe not even for himself, but certainly for yato. judging from the way yukine had talked about yato, it seemed like yato could use some friends anyway. true, yato knew many people, but knowing people and having them care about you when you're incarcerated are two different things.
it's hard, god, is it ever. his feet feel like lead as he drags himself to go visit yato. but it's one foot in front of the other, one motion that leads to another all the way until he's asking with a visit with (a quick look at retrospec ---) yaboku tomioka. and now he's sitting across from him, one eye less than he had before, remembering everything about this kid that he'd forgotten. how he'd worked for him but hadn't really been cut out for the work, how majima had helped him out when he got the job at inkwell. how they'd painted nails together and talked about boys. how he'd tried to keep him from drinking all the booze in an ill-fated attempt to save prom.
his bloodied and bandaged hands.
Just some rough acquaintances. It's taken care of. he wonders if that's related to this. it has to be, right? not everyone's story has to be about gangs, majima knows that, but he also knows parallels when he sees them. rough acquaintances, trying to play it off, ending up in jail? not talking to anyone because that would get people involved, people that could get hurt. it's a similar refrain on an old story. yato's in some deep shit. and while majima hadn't been messed up with the gang life in recolle, in his memories he is. his his memories he's kneedeep in it with kiryu. and if his missing eye is any testament to how rough that life must have been, he's already got a pretty good idea.
Boss, I wanna be tough like you...! What should I do?
fuck, what he wouldn't give to go back to prom and tell yato tough isn't what you want to be. he wishes yato had taken him up on his offer for help. he wishes shitty situations didnt happen to so many good people. he wishes he hadn't ruined his brother's life wanting to be tough shit. he wishes he could see his brother one more fucking time, instead of coming here to be the visitor yato doesn't need.
why the fuck did he even come? but it's too late. too late to back out now. ]
[ Yato wasn't really expecting visitors. He wasn't really hoping for anyone, because a logical, self-pitying part of him thought it would be better if everyone forgot about him while he was in here and went on with their lives. It would upset some of his friends to know he was incarcerated; even worse, it might even disappoint them. Maybe it's better that he stays here for now.
He's hiding, just a little bit.
But he has a visitor. It's tempting to refuse the visit. He can imagine what he'll see in whoever it is: the sadness and confusion, the questions and the lecturing. Yato doesn't really want to deal with any of it. He knows exactly what he did and has no regret. But trying to convince other people that he was just in his actions seems like an insurmountable task. He doesn't care that he's here in jail, or that his criminal record will be taking a turn for the dangerous. He only cares that the people close to him might not understand.
It takes some time, but Yato decides to meet his visitor. Majima. A small surprise, but Majima does tend to surprise with the goodness of his heart. Majima, sporting a brand new eyepatch. Did he get swept up in Baren's dumb fashion trend? Yato ignores that for now and takes a seat across from him, hands visible through the plexiglass window as per visitation rules. His jail uniform is oversized but clean -- the cleanliness really the only reason why Yato hasn't tried to steal back his tracksuit yet. He's uninjured, a minor miracle. ]
Yeah. I doubt I'll be needing much of him, though. I'm guilty as charged.
[ Trying to weasel his way out of a conviction would leave a bad taste in his mouth. He's never been too big on lying. ]
It ain't just about that. Lawyers can help ya make sure ya aren't...
[ in jail for life. like this brother. but not every situation was that bad, and not every crime warranted such drastic punishment. true, majima doesn't know what yato did, but he believes (or hopes, perhaps falsely) that yato hadn't killed anyone. even if he had, though, what room would majima have to judge? majiam, whose brother had killed people with his bare hands. majimas, whose memories were intrinsically linked with the most terrifying crime syndicate in japan.
it didn't matter if he could remember pulling the trigger; whatever crime he'd been wrapped up in was just as good as putting the nails in the coffin, wasn't it? ]
You have family, ya know? Maybe not blood-family, but that shit don't matter. There's people in town who are relyin' on ya comin' back.
[ Even though Majima trails off, Yato can guess at what he was about to say. ]
... Sorry if I've made you worry, boss. You should understand something about me before you go worrying any more.
All these normal guys, the ones who aren't on Retrospec -- they stop realizing I exist after a while. It's a condition I have. Once they all forget about me, chances are I'll be able to waltz outta here. I don't count on being here for long.
[ majima's quiet for a moment, trying to figure out how to answer yato's question. he's not ready to, not quite yet. but there's something bothering him about what yato said. and he wants to address that first. when he speaks, he tries to keep the judgment out of his voice. he's never judged yato for anything - not his living situation, not wanting to paint his nails, not the way he worked at the club, not even the beer-prom incident, not really. but the fact of the matter is, there is a kind of judgment to it, when he speaks. ]
I don't get it, Yato. Ya don't want a lawyer, 'cause yer sure of your guilt. But ya don't want anyone ta know, and ya just wanna slink on out of here like nothing ever happened. Aren't those two things at different ends?
[ there's part of him that understands responsibility and actions above all else. and maybe, sure, that included getting a lawyer and doing your best not to stay in jail forever - but that jived better with the idea that yato would want to hold to the fact he was guilty, than the idea that no one would ever know. he's torn - between the idea that a person should accept the fact actions have consequences, and the idea that he doesn't want yato or his friends to suffer for this. two months ago, there wouldn't have been any question. leave - the sooner, the better. now, there are so many things that make simple thoughts seem complicated. maybe yato wasn't the only person with contradictions right now. maybe that's what makes them so easy to point out.
it's a level of complication, on all fronts, that he isn't fond of. so he tries to go back to something they can both understand easier. something more concrete. away from judgment, and back towards something more like reassurance: ]
Yato, no matter what your powers do to ya, you'll never be so inconsequential that your actions are meaningless. You're always gonna matter to the people in your life, an' the decisions you make are gonna affect them.
[ You'll never be so inconsequential that your actions are meaningless. Yato would like for that to be true. It's something he has to remind himself of, or more often, something he needs reminding of every once in a while. ]
Yeah, what I did to get here was meaningful. A man I gave a second chance went on to do something unforgivable. I was trying to correct my mistake.
[ Yato's being characterized as wanting to slink out, is he? A harsh assessment, not one that can touch him. His gaze is steady on Majima's. ]
When I leave, it'll be because there's nothing left for me here. If anyone asks what I got arrested for, I'll have nothing to hide. If I don't bring up the subject myself, it's because it isn't what's important about me.
I'm guilty according to the law, but I have no guilt.
[ He is unapologetic in this one thing, reprehensible as it is to the law-abiding population. Yes, a good citizen would stay his sentence and think about where he went wrong. But Yato is certain he's done no wrong.
He takes a breath and eases his tone. ]
I don't want too many people knowing because I know they'd kick up a fuss and worry. Like you, boss. I appreciate it, I promise I do. But we don't live according to the same set of rules anymore.
[ a good citizen, maybe - but majima has never been that. not here in recollé, and certainly not in his memories. majima's good eye narrows. the judgment before was light, almost missable. judgment that didn't want to be. like he was hoping to be proven wrong, like he was still trying to asses the situation. but now, after what yato says, he's angry. real anger isn't something he shows often. it's rare and raw, but he keeps his voice quiet all the same. he doesn't want them to attract attention. ]
You don't know what the fuck you're talking about.
[ it's less about the letter of the law and more about responsibility. majima doesn't even necessarily see it as a question of right vs wrong at this point, only that the things you do have consequence. if you do something to correct a mistake, you deal with what happens after that, you don't just turn tail.
but that's only half of it, of course. that's the half that sneaks in with the memories he gets, the part of his thoughts that get twisted and contorted by the feelings he gets when he gets his memories.
the other half has to do with his brother. how his brother is not dead, but will die in prison. how he fucked up his brother's life. how he grieves for him every day without end. there are Principles, and then there is emotion, and sometimes the ends of a conversation get muddled by both. he has no desire to see people struggling to cope with what happened to yato. and he has even less desire to see another good man rot in prison.
but none of that is what actually sparks the indignation in his voice. it's yato's accusation that he doesn't understand. that they live by some different set of rules when his eye had been cut out in what he can only assume was an act of punishment within the yakuza. he has no proof, no memory that clearly indicates that. but it's the most logical conclusion as far as he's concerned. he knows what the yakuza demands of people who mess up. he knows he's one of them.
(he also knows, inevitably, that he will always fuck up something somehow, whether it's this life or the last.)
the irony in what yato says is so ripe that it allows him to process his experiences in a way he'd almost never with anyone else. but he's also not just going to sit here and take this idea that he can't comprehend, or that yato's new found sense of living on the wrong side of the law distanced them. he doesn't know what his position was in the yakuza, but he was still in it. in the most notorious and hardcore crime syndicate in japan. it was something he and kiryu had talked about extensively, the kind of thing that the suggestion alone had been terrifying to kiryu's cousin. ]
[ Such a strong statement. So self-assured. Where is it coming from? There's clearly more on Majima's mind than he's saying. Yato takes another breath, lets it out. It's the least he can do to be patient with a friend who came all this way to see him, however angry that friend is getting. He leans on the counter and props his chin on a hand, searching Majima's expression. ]
[ he's calmer when he says it. like it was the one momentary slip of emotion he was going to allow himself, before, and he's collecting it back. like yato's patience is enough to remind him that he should be, too. there's a note of resignation somewhere in it, too. but no apologies. ]
[ True enough. As friendly as they are, there's plenty they don't know about each other. But that's okay. If Majima's history is something that pains him to talk about, then Yato doesn't have to know. His gaze drifts in thought. ]
Boss, do you think it would make sense to arrest a ghost? Hypothetically.
[ he's quiet, like he might say something more about that. like he might just, after a moment, decide to play the game answer what he thinks. but he'd never see yato like that, no matter how many powers he got back. he'd never see yato as anything less than human.
so when he does speak, it's not about hypothetical ghost arrests. it's about something much more concrete. ]
[ Most people would be surprised to hear about a friend's family being in prison for murder. But even before Yato began seeing visions of slaughter and gore, he knew decent people who made violent decisions. Majima, who could beat a creature much larger than he with his bare fists, was never too far from that estimation. Hearing now that Majima has a felon for a brother isn't a huge shock. Still, he can sympathize with the loss of a loved one taken to a world apart. ]
[ So he fought, and fought too much. Yato understands. It's easy to get carried away in the thick of the moment.
Yato recalls Majima's awkwardness when he first sat down, the slight hesitation. He thought it might've been because of Majima's unfamiliarity with the setting or the strangeness of talking to someone in the wrong kind of uniform. Maybe it was something else. ]
[ majima's expression turns darker, sadder. like yato has told a cruel joke that he doesn't understand. were you guys close? it's a normal question to ask of someone, a normal, friendly part of conversation. but majima and his brother hadn't just been close they'd been inseparable. from the day majima had picked him out at the orphanage and declared they were brothers. back then, he'd been everything he ever talked about. ]
Yes. We were close.
[ he doesn't feel like he deserves to claim it was more than that. to talk about how much love he'd had for his brother. how he'd filled his heart to the brim when he'd been an idiot kid who fought too much to find his way into a loving family. how he'd learned that family could be who you decided, not who was forced on you. but what right did he have to any of those sentiments, after what had happened? when it should have been him, when his brother should be the one to be free. wouldn't his brother have had better words of wisdom for yato? more patience? he'd had so much potential where majima felt he had little. so much more to offer. what right did he have to claim that they still belonged to one another, when he'd betrayed him? ]
[ Yato watches Majima's expression fall. A sensitive subject, then. But he doesn't back off, because letting the topic fall to the wayside like it's something too shameful to talk about doesn't seem right. ]
You still visit him?
[ It would explain why Majima even thought to come here. ]
[ majima trails off. he knows they're just excuses. he hasn't gone to see his brother because he doesn't think his brother will want to see him. and the longer he doesn't go, the more that becomes true. ]
[ Does Yato detect some troubled thoughts? Natural, all things considered. A beat, and then he huffs lightly. ]
Obviously I don't know the guy, but it gets pretty monotonous in here. And I've only been here a week, tops. I bet he'd be happy to get a letter or something.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
6/30; jail visit; cw: suicide ideation
[ but majima's here now. and it's too late to take it back. that's kind of been his philosophy through this whole experience. one foot in font of the other. force yourself to keep going. he'd heard about what had happened to yato through the grapevine - not the details of what had happened, just that he was in jail. maybe his first thought should've been what did he do, but it's not. it's is he okay?
it eats on him, just like the slow realization that his memories of yato are starting to to feel fuzzy at best. if retrospec had made them forget all these things that had happened in the past - could it make them forget people in the present? that thought scares him. it's as depressing as the idea that he'd known kiryu for so long and just somehow forgotten all of that, forgotten kiryu and this whole host of characters from hard-on-san to ken-watanabe-in-the-shitty-dreams-movie to the girl.
the truth is, he doesn't want to go see him. it feels so wrong to go see yato, when he hasn't gone to see his brother in three years. it feels like a betrayal of his brother to see a friend he'd made in the last year instead of the man he'd chosen to grow up with. what would his brother say, if he knew about this? that majima had worked up the courage to come here, now, but hadn't been able to face him in three years? but his brother was upstate and it was too hard. too hard to face him, too hard to know what to say. knowing that all the blame was on him, but it was his brother who was in jail. when it should've been him, when he should've been the one to rot in prison for the rest of his life, and wouldn't it have been the honorable thing just to die?
(somedays, the same thoughts he's always had carry a different kind of weight. somedays, words like honor feel like the heaviest of all.)
but the more he thinks about the things he can't remember about yato, the more that he knows that while he may not want to visit yato, it is something that he needs to do. maybe not even for himself, but certainly for yato. judging from the way yukine had talked about yato, it seemed like yato could use some friends anyway. true, yato knew many people, but knowing people and having them care about you when you're incarcerated are two different things.
it's hard, god, is it ever. his feet feel like lead as he drags himself to go visit yato. but it's one foot in front of the other, one motion that leads to another all the way until he's asking with a visit with (a quick look at retrospec ---) yaboku tomioka. and now he's sitting across from him, one eye less than he had before, remembering everything about this kid that he'd forgotten. how he'd worked for him but hadn't really been cut out for the work, how majima had helped him out when he got the job at inkwell. how they'd painted nails together and talked about boys. how he'd tried to keep him from drinking all the booze in an ill-fated attempt to save prom.
his bloodied and bandaged hands.
Just some rough acquaintances. It's taken care of. he wonders if that's related to this. it has to be, right? not everyone's story has to be about gangs, majima knows that, but he also knows parallels when he sees them. rough acquaintances, trying to play it off, ending up in jail? not talking to anyone because that would get people involved, people that could get hurt. it's a similar refrain on an old story. yato's in some deep shit. and while majima hadn't been messed up with the gang life in recolle, in his memories he is. his his memories he's kneedeep in it with kiryu. and if his missing eye is any testament to how rough that life must have been, he's already got a pretty good idea.
Boss, I wanna be tough like you...! What should I do?
fuck, what he wouldn't give to go back to prom and tell yato tough isn't what you want to be. he wishes yato had taken him up on his offer for help. he wishes shitty situations didnt happen to so many good people. he wishes he hadn't ruined his brother's life wanting to be tough shit. he wishes he could see his brother one more fucking time, instead of coming here to be the visitor yato doesn't need.
why the fuck did he even come? but it's too late. too late to back out now. ]
Do ya...did they give ya a lawyer?
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He's hiding, just a little bit.
But he has a visitor. It's tempting to refuse the visit. He can imagine what he'll see in whoever it is: the sadness and confusion, the questions and the lecturing. Yato doesn't really want to deal with any of it. He knows exactly what he did and has no regret. But trying to convince other people that he was just in his actions seems like an insurmountable task. He doesn't care that he's here in jail, or that his criminal record will be taking a turn for the dangerous. He only cares that the people close to him might not understand.
It takes some time, but Yato decides to meet his visitor. Majima. A small surprise, but Majima does tend to surprise with the goodness of his heart. Majima, sporting a brand new eyepatch. Did he get swept up in Baren's dumb fashion trend? Yato ignores that for now and takes a seat across from him, hands visible through the plexiglass window as per visitation rules. His jail uniform is oversized but clean -- the cleanliness really the only reason why Yato hasn't tried to steal back his tracksuit yet. He's uninjured, a minor miracle. ]
Yeah. I doubt I'll be needing much of him, though. I'm guilty as charged.
[ Trying to weasel his way out of a conviction would leave a bad taste in his mouth. He's never been too big on lying. ]
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[ in jail for life. like this brother. but not every situation was that bad, and not every crime warranted such drastic punishment. true, majima doesn't know what yato did, but he believes (or hopes, perhaps falsely) that yato hadn't killed anyone. even if he had, though, what room would majima have to judge? majiam, whose brother had killed people with his bare hands. majimas, whose memories were intrinsically linked with the most terrifying crime syndicate in japan.
it didn't matter if he could remember pulling the trigger; whatever crime he'd been wrapped up in was just as good as putting the nails in the coffin, wasn't it? ]
You have family, ya know? Maybe not blood-family, but that shit don't matter. There's people in town who are relyin' on ya comin' back.
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... Sorry if I've made you worry, boss. You should understand something about me before you go worrying any more.
All these normal guys, the ones who aren't on Retrospec -- they stop realizing I exist after a while. It's a condition I have. Once they all forget about me, chances are I'll be able to waltz outta here. I don't count on being here for long.
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That doesn't mean it's that simple for everyone around ya!
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[ He was supposed to slice the guy up and walk away, easy. It's just his luck that a Retrospec cop happened to come by.
Still, he thought that would be enough to ease Majima's worries. Is there something else on his mind? ]
You okay, boss? You're pretty worked up.
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I don't get it, Yato. Ya don't want a lawyer, 'cause yer sure of your guilt. But ya don't want anyone ta know, and ya just wanna slink on out of here like nothing ever happened. Aren't those two things at different ends?
[ there's part of him that understands responsibility and actions above all else. and maybe, sure, that included getting a lawyer and doing your best not to stay in jail forever - but that jived better with the idea that yato would want to hold to the fact he was guilty, than the idea that no one would ever know. he's torn - between the idea that a person should accept the fact actions have consequences, and the idea that he doesn't want yato or his friends to suffer for this. two months ago, there wouldn't have been any question. leave - the sooner, the better. now, there are so many things that make simple thoughts seem complicated. maybe yato wasn't the only person with contradictions right now. maybe that's what makes them so easy to point out.
it's a level of complication, on all fronts, that he isn't fond of. so he tries to go back to something they can both understand easier. something more concrete. away from judgment, and back towards something more like reassurance: ]
Yato, no matter what your powers do to ya, you'll never be so inconsequential that your actions are meaningless. You're always gonna matter to the people in your life, an' the decisions you make are gonna affect them.
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Yeah, what I did to get here was meaningful. A man I gave a second chance went on to do something unforgivable. I was trying to correct my mistake.
[ Yato's being characterized as wanting to slink out, is he? A harsh assessment, not one that can touch him. His gaze is steady on Majima's. ]
When I leave, it'll be because there's nothing left for me here. If anyone asks what I got arrested for, I'll have nothing to hide. If I don't bring up the subject myself, it's because it isn't what's important about me.
I'm guilty according to the law, but I have no guilt.
[ He is unapologetic in this one thing, reprehensible as it is to the law-abiding population. Yes, a good citizen would stay his sentence and think about where he went wrong. But Yato is certain he's done no wrong.
He takes a breath and eases his tone. ]
I don't want too many people knowing because I know they'd kick up a fuss and worry. Like you, boss. I appreciate it, I promise I do. But we don't live according to the same set of rules anymore.
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You don't know what the fuck you're talking about.
[ it's less about the letter of the law and more about responsibility. majima doesn't even necessarily see it as a question of right vs wrong at this point, only that the things you do have consequence. if you do something to correct a mistake, you deal with what happens after that, you don't just turn tail.
but that's only half of it, of course. that's the half that sneaks in with the memories he gets, the part of his thoughts that get twisted and contorted by the feelings he gets when he gets his memories.
the other half has to do with his brother. how his brother is not dead, but will die in prison. how he fucked up his brother's life. how he grieves for him every day without end. there are Principles, and then there is emotion, and sometimes the ends of a conversation get muddled by both. he has no desire to see people struggling to cope with what happened to yato. and he has even less desire to see another good man rot in prison.
but none of that is what actually sparks the indignation in his voice. it's yato's accusation that he doesn't understand. that they live by some different set of rules when his eye had been cut out in what he can only assume was an act of punishment within the yakuza. he has no proof, no memory that clearly indicates that. but it's the most logical conclusion as far as he's concerned. he knows what the yakuza demands of people who mess up. he knows he's one of them.
(he also knows, inevitably, that he will always fuck up something somehow, whether it's this life or the last.)
the irony in what yato says is so ripe that it allows him to process his experiences in a way he'd almost never with anyone else. but he's also not just going to sit here and take this idea that he can't comprehend, or that yato's new found sense of living on the wrong side of the law distanced them. he doesn't know what his position was in the yakuza, but he was still in it. in the most notorious and hardcore crime syndicate in japan. it was something he and kiryu had talked about extensively, the kind of thing that the suggestion alone had been terrifying to kiryu's cousin. ]
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And what makes you say that?
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[ he's calmer when he says it. like it was the one momentary slip of emotion he was going to allow himself, before, and he's collecting it back. like yato's patience is enough to remind him that he should be, too. there's a note of resignation somewhere in it, too. but no apologies. ]
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Boss, do you think it would make sense to arrest a ghost? Hypothetically.
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[ he's quiet, like he might say something more about that. like he might just, after a moment, decide to play the game answer what he thinks. but he'd never see yato like that, no matter how many powers he got back. he'd never see yato as anything less than human.
so when he does speak, it's not about hypothetical ghost arrests. it's about something much more concrete. ]
My brother was arrested a couple years back.
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His eyes blink on back to Majima. ]
What for?
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[ he holds his gaze as he says it. direct, to the point. ]
He's in for life.
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[ Most people would be surprised to hear about a friend's family being in prison for murder. But even before Yato began seeing visions of slaughter and gore, he knew decent people who made violent decisions. Majima, who could beat a creature much larger than he with his bare fists, was never too far from that estimation. Hearing now that Majima has a felon for a brother isn't a huge shock. Still, he can sympathize with the loss of a loved one taken to a world apart. ]
Why'd he do it?
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[ and they just didn't. in a contest of strength, majima's brother always came out on top. ]
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Yato recalls Majima's awkwardness when he first sat down, the slight hesitation. He thought it might've been because of Majima's unfamiliarity with the setting or the strangeness of talking to someone in the wrong kind of uniform. Maybe it was something else. ]
Were you guys close?
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Yes. We were close.
[ he doesn't feel like he deserves to claim it was more than that. to talk about how much love he'd had for his brother. how he'd filled his heart to the brim when he'd been an idiot kid who fought too much to find his way into a loving family. how he'd learned that family could be who you decided, not who was forced on you. but what right did he have to any of those sentiments, after what had happened? when it should have been him, when his brother should be the one to be free. wouldn't his brother have had better words of wisdom for yato? more patience? he'd had so much potential where majima felt he had little. so much more to offer. what right did he have to claim that they still belonged to one another, when he'd betrayed him? ]
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You still visit him?
[ It would explain why Majima even thought to come here. ]
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I haven't seen him in three years.
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[ majima trails off. he knows they're just excuses. he hasn't gone to see his brother because he doesn't think his brother will want to see him. and the longer he doesn't go, the more that becomes true. ]
It is what is is.
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Obviously I don't know the guy, but it gets pretty monotonous in here. And I've only been here a week, tops. I bet he'd be happy to get a letter or something.
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