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[He bristles a little when Manabu refers to him as bad off, like he's somehow pitiable. And the other man gets one hell of a glare levelled at him after he's done.]

It wasn't your fault.

[Not even partly.]

You were trying to help me, and I hit you. You're lucky I didn't have a weapon in my hand, because I would've used it. That ain't your fault. At all.

[Manabu does a double-take at that glare, blinking owlishly, frowning as James goes on about it.

he doesn't refute it. instead:] Does it happen often? When you kind of...drift away like that. It's because of people who messed with you?

[There are definitely times when he gets lost inside his own head, in the things that happened in the past. But he doesn't want to admit that, it makes him sounds crazy.]

No.

[That's absolutely a lie. Maybe this particular instance hadn't got anything to do with HYDRA, but it all stems back to them in the end. He nearly doesn't say any more, but eventually he drags an explanation out. Manabu has earned that much, at least.]

It was the tapes. The information tapes that I have. I was going to lend them to you, and it made me think of where I got them from. [He swallows, eyes darkening.] I killed the man who gave them to me the day before we saw each other.

[Manabu doesn't answer right away, letting that explanation sink in -- a bit too much for comfort, really, but what about this place is comfortable? he swallows against a dry throat, trying to reframe the day with this information in mind. James...did look like a kind of hell when he arrived, but then, he never looked particularly good in general.

...no offense, James.

but with this in mind, it...hm.]

...Why? [did he try to hurt him? set something off?]

[This would be the point in the conversation where he'd usually run away, or shut down the questions, or possibly even punch Manabu again before leaving.

He very nearly does at least the second one.

But he sees in his mind's eye Manabu being kind to him on every occasion they've met, the flashes of surprising compassion when they were caught in memories, the way he didn't judge when he ought to. He's done nothing but try and help - both the town in general, and Bucky as a person. Even when he's been ignored, insulted, and outright attacked, he's still here asking why.

The scales tip in his favour, and Bucky's jaw sets, resolute.]

Not here.

[It's not a refusal. But he still doesn't want to discuss these things out in the open where anyone could hear.]

[Manabu looks surprised at not being shut down or snapped at.

...or smacked, honestly.

but hell, he'll take it! his face is still bruised, ok.]

Got it.

[and he leaves it at that, focusing on keeping up with James' brisk pace as they hurry out of the more open-air parts of the trek back up to Shepherd Street, where the abandoned fire house punctuates part of the horizon.

Manabu hops up the porch steps, already fishing they key with the antler keyring out to unlock and head inside, pushing the door with his shoulder to let it swing wide as he steps in and aside to take his shoes off, looking back toward it to see if James actually does intend to come in and talk, or...he's had enough.]

[It's another out when they get to Manabu's place. He could slip away while the other man is unlocking the door, or even when he's being glanced at from inside the threshold, and he doesn't think that Manabu would try to stop him this time.

He doesn't.

He steps inside after the other man and, after a moment, he toes off his combat boots just in case it's some sort of house rule to not have footwear on. If he has to leave in a hurry it doesn't really matter, he can run just as well on bare feet and he's lost worse than a pair of boots.

This whole way here, he's been trying to think of how best to tell it. He can't just start with Martin, it lacks context on why the idea of being mind controlled was so severely sickening to him that he killed the man. He doesn't think it's possible to tell the whole story, the idea of it makes words clog in his throat with fear, but perhaps-- Maybe he can tell a little.]

Have you heard of the Nazis?

[It's probably clear from his expression that this isn't just an idle question, it's the start of the promised explanation.]

Ah, mm... [Manabu thinks about it, heading toward the kitchen. seems the best spot for a talk, familiar territory and all that.

turning, leaning against the counter.]

Soldiers from...World War Two, right? [he tilts his head slightly. that seems obvious the second it's out of his mouth; that's the war James mentioned the first go-around, after all.]

[He nods, taking the same seat he had been in the last time they had been in this kitchen. His expression is carefully controlled, voice quiet and without much inflection. It's easier to talk about this if he distances himself from it, recites it like a mission report. And even then, just the bare bones of what's necessary to understand.]

HYDRA started as the deep science division of the Nazis. Human experimentation. Torture on prisoners. They'd already held me once before what you saw on the train, altered me enough so that I'd survive a fall like that. They gave me the arm to replace the one I lost during the fall, and they made me into their weapon. They wiped my memories, tortured me, and trained me. I was their tool for seventy years. The Winter Soldier, the Asset. Not human, no name.

[He pauses, the first semblance of life returning to his expression, just a flicker of guilt, before it's gone again.]

I was sent to kill Steve, the man on the train. I nearly succeeded, but he refused to fight me, and something changed. I ran. That was five months ago, and now I'm here. The man who gave me those information tapes tried to do something to control me, that's why I killed him.

[There's so much more, but that's all he can say. More than he would ever usually say, just a few sentences to sum up decades of life.]

Now you know.

[Manabu crosses his arms and listens, his expression stony and, at several points, pained to hear what is said. human suffering is not unknown on the Galaxy Railways, and some people have endured some heinous things -- some coming to very tragic ends.

the volume of tragedy doesn't overtake the impact in Manabu's heart; he's sometimes too tender, too moved to react to things that are so outright wrong when laid out before him. of course, there's not much he can do in this case, as these things...are built up from the past.

also: seventy years? James gets a confused head-tilt at that one for a beat. sure, he doesn't look as spry as his punches are, but he sure as hell doesn't look like any seventy-year old he's ever met that wasn't entirely mechanical!

he sits in contemplative silence for a few beats after the conclusion, idly tapping a couple fingers on his arm while he ruminates. what do you even say to all of that? what would he even want to hear, were it him? can he even imagine it?]

...That is a lot. [as he figured, but...not entirely figured. obviously. whew.] Jeez, James. What a mess.

[He's never laid it out like this for anyone before.

The people back home had already known the story, they'd lived parts of it and found out the rest from the files Black Widow had dumped on the internet. This feel very strange in a lot of ways, raw, like he's just given Manabu a list of places to target if he wants to cause maximum damage.

There's a tension as he waits for a response, and when it comes-- the surprise of what it is actually cracks that muted expression into the tiniest huff of unamused laughter.]

No kidding.

[Mess doesn't even begin to cover it.]

You did what you did to protect yourself. [he nods slightly.] The man with the tapes, I mean. Right or wrong isn't really the point there, it's just... [he trails off, his expression getting cloudy as he thinks on it, hearing echoes from his own past.

you think your utopian ideals can keep you from having to kill anyone?! just quit right now and save us all the time!

he blinks, and then he's back, looking back at James in the present.]

So when you get that look on you like in the mirror...hands off, right? Or is there something better I should be doing?

[Absolution comes, and with it comes surprise.

He knows that Manabu is a soldier, must have seen his share of death in the line of duty, but he's also an idealistic moron who obviously cares about every life. Hearing him dismiss Martin's death as self defence and then just move right along, it's certainly another facet to the other man that Bucky will remember from now on.]

I don't know.

[He doesn't have a whole lot of experience with having help during these particular type of issues.]

But yeah, maybe don't come near me if it happens again. I can't guarantee that I wouldn't hurt you. [Or worse.] If I ever came at you, you should shoot me.

[it's not Manabu's place to lecture, let alone absolve, James of anything he's done. he can only speak to what he knows, small though it is. he wishes there was more, but...empty platitudes aren't really his thing, surprisingly enough.

because the platitudes he does spout are ones he wholesale believes in.

as for the advice, Manabu fixes him with a thoughtful look. part of him wants to jab back with a you actually think that would work?, but that's just an invitation for James to clap back with how he intends to part ways for good.

instead:] Alright. [he can accept those terms; whether it pans out that way or not is an entirely different thing.

...of course:] But I'm probably aiming at whatever eyeballs are growing out of the floors or walls first.

[A little more of the tension leaks out of him when Manabu agrees. He understands that the idiot would probably go for a non-lethal shot, but even a severe knee wound would slow down the Soldier and probably allow him the time he needed to get away.]

Sounds fair.

[He leans back in the chair, suddenly exhausted. He hasn't even said that much, but speaking about this to anyone was difficult.]

Listen, if you want to find me, I-- I'm staying with Steve at the moment.

Eh?

[Manabu's eyebrows raise. with a tilt of his head:] The...man you were being forced to kill? [s q u i n t] The man you said was going to kill you? OR me, if I crossed paths and mentioned you?

I never said that.

[He frowns, as if Manabu has personally insulted him by suggesting that Steve might have hurt either of them.]

You basically did! [he unfolds his arms and makes a gesture.] You said he'd mow me over!

I said he'd never leave you alone, and that he'd tear the town apart to find me.

[He's not relenting on the glower.]

None of that means he'd hurt you. He's just-- a persistent punk, he'd bug you for information on me.

[he scowls back for a beat, like a petulant little brother (lifetime of practice).

then, hands up:] Okay, okay, fine! That's off the table, and that's a good thing! I'll be glad for that.

Where's this guy at, anyway?

123 David Cliff Apartments.

[He probably shouldn't be giving out Steve's address without clearing it with him first, but he does anyway.]

I don't know how long I'm gonna stay with him, but I'm there now.

[Manabu pushes off the counter, walking over to another where a notebook lay. he flips a page and pencils it down at the bottom of a mostly-used page.]

Okay.

I guess if anything real bad comes up, I can go there. [he sets the pencil down, looking over.] But I won't bother anyone if I can avoid it.

I didn't give you the damn address so that you could avoid bothering me.

[Idiot. Just as much of an idiot as Steve.]

...Twenty minutes ago, you were telling me you weren't going to interact with me again.

[what is the truth.gif]

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cw: nazis, torture, mind control

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