From the outset, Edamura left the impression of being courteous with his formal introduction. He started off strong, only for Yi Sang to answer his question about excitement with apathy, because he was skeptical about what could transpire in the span of four weeks after languishing in grief for an indeterminable span of time. Still, he was resolved to play the game and do what was expected of him: He was desperate for something, anything to give him hope in the stifling darkness of his futile existence. And so, while he wasn't particularly interested in meeting people, he told Edamura that he wasn't disinclined, either, as it was a change of pace from when he'd been visited by only two people in his strange captivity—and change was the operative word.
The argument he received against it was that he should be more enthusiastic for the sake of the players here to chase love, and that set the tone for how he perceived Edamura. This was someone who felt strongly and considered others, which ended up going hand in hand with what Wei Wuxian would later advise him at the end of the week, so Yi Sang, as was his trend at the time, buckled regardless of how he felt and how much energy it was already taking him to be even this present.
By the second week, his mental health was at an all-time low and the only reason he was functional tied back to the aforementioned instructions. He would have preferred to close his eyes and never wake up again, but he persisted as bade . . . and created the monstrosity he would call bulgogi. He saw nothing wrong with it, because Yi Sang has a bizarre sense of what constitutes a good meal after years of subsisting on expired food! For how much of the pits he was in, his sentimentality was such that he still mourned the meat once it was trashed by Edamura, who went on to demonstrate proper techniques in the kitchen. How much of the lesson stuck remains to be seen, but he did note that Edamura seemed quite knowledgeable and, between this and their first meeting, left the impression that the latter was very caring and reliable. Yi Sang was self-aware enough to know he'd done nothing to endear himself to Edamura, who provided nevertheless.
Then the ghosts appeared. Edamura was uncharacteristically solemn, which prompted the question of whether or not he was all right. Yi Sang was apathetic when it came to his personal happiness, which seemed out of his reach, but he became more responsive whenever someone was hurting as he does not enjoy and has never delighted in seeing others in pain. He thought that Edamura must have been feeling some sort of way, if not outright hurting over the ghost of the woman in the bedroom; in order to alleviate that ache, he offered to move Edamura's things. (This was the precursor to later in the game when it would become clearer that Edamura quieted in the face of pain.) While Yi Sang didn't understand why his ability to read was so funny to him, it was at least good to see him lighten up as they began their walk.
When asked, he explained that Sang Yi, his assigned apparition, was his reflection. The full story of this was that, at the height of his happiness as a member of the League of Nine, where inventors had gathered to showcase their creations, he'd made the mirror with the hopes of continuing to live freely, laughing among friends and fellows. He'd met Sang Yi, his left-handed self from another world, during the tuning phase. In the aftermath of the League's violent collapse, Yi Sang, drowning in his grief, had clung to the mirror and his reflection within. So Yi Sang could see how his obsession with the mirror might not have sounded like such a healthy thing as remarked by Edamura, though he was of the belief that Sang Yi had been good for him in the end. If not for him, he wouldn't have struck out alone in aimless pursuit of somewhere to call home again.
All in all, by the end of the week he considered Edamura to be as he described in the post-ceremony discussion: thoughtful and reliable—a sensitive soul who must feel so much deeper than the surface already suggested. After all, Edamura got on his case about his qualities after Yi Sang had delivered what he thought to be an objective evaluation of himself. It was a kind, if unnecessary, gesture.
And so, he worked diligently on the balloon gift to Edamura, entirely unaware of the beef with beans. He'll offer a heartfelt apology the day realization dawns.
By the fourth week, Yi Sang was healing! Now that he was less trapped in his own thoughts, he became more active at involving himself in others' affairs. When the secrets dropped for the last time, he was concerned for everyone, but particularly for Edamura in the moment the latter went rigid. It was a sign of some sort of hurt, hence the suggestion to get fresh air where it was quieter. Yi Sang did have some things on mind, but his own secret wasn't anything horrifying so much as it was a point of shame for him. Drugged and kept in a white room, the plaything he'd created for laughter had been misappropriated by those using him for harm; even in his depressive and indifferent state, the realization had left him feeling violated by his compatriot. While he wasn't proud of his complicity in the perpetration of violence against others, no matter how unknowingly, by this point he'd come to terms with much of what had happened to him.
Edamura's wound, however, seemed raw still. He felt deeply. He was caring and loving, but also resentful and crying out still behind his easygoing smiles. Yi Sang is no proponent of violence, so he refrained from commenting overmuch on whatever had taken place between Edamura and Edamura's father; however, he'd once had a friend on whose suffering he hadn't lingered nearly long enough to see the extent of the cracks in Dongrang's heart, and he was determined not to repeat the costly mistake with Edamura, who'd been nothing but kind to him, regardless of his true nature. As he heard more, Yi Sang thought that he could understand the grief to a point, hence his comment about how time came to a stop for those still mourning. This was why he asked if Edamura had an item to which he was partial, because he wanted to see if he could make something like it in order to raise his mood.
From this point onward, Yi Sang was extra attentive to Edamura, who was in such visible pain during the truth booth that he decided to throw a bone by commenting on the coffee. He thought that Edamura had a big heart despite its darker facets, and he strove to cherish that. The resultant response was a bit overwhelming for him, but he was glad to see a smile on Edamura's face again.
Their bonding continued in the final party, where he made a beeline for Edamura's skewers. He chose chicken as a callback to their conversation at the kitchen, which he'd brought up then out of nostalgia for the friends with whom he'd once enjoyed the treats. As Edamura was considering others for his wish even now, Yi Sang made a wish of his own that the former's thoughts would be conveyed clearly in support of Edamura's struggles with the liar persona. Only good could come of honesty from a heart that had always been transparent in its capacity to give. Edamura was so very human, and the sentimentalist in Yi Sang was fond of that. He spoke from experience of the joys to be found in the air after a sunshower, which is how he describes his treasured time with the League. Now he had a new fellow in Edamura, with whom he was eager to indulge the appetite he'd been lacking the first time they'd attempted connecting over food.
Incidentally, he likened Edamura to a kindling at hot or not, because he defines attraction based on emotional attachment. Yi Sang considers himself not necessarily a source of warmth, but as someone who feels keenly the comforting heat of those around him, which is why he was impossible to offend for those rating him. The kindling represented Edamura's desire to be truer to himself—a humble wish that, with encouragement, could be kindled into a striking and caressing fire. Yi Sang, knowing what he does, wishes above all else for Edamura to thrive and be honest with himself.
no subject
no subject
The argument he received against it was that he should be more enthusiastic for the sake of the players here to chase love, and that set the tone for how he perceived Edamura. This was someone who felt strongly and considered others, which ended up going hand in hand with what Wei Wuxian would later advise him at the end of the week, so Yi Sang, as was his trend at the time, buckled regardless of how he felt and how much energy it was already taking him to be even this present.
By the second week, his mental health was at an all-time low and the only reason he was functional tied back to the aforementioned instructions. He would have preferred to close his eyes and never wake up again, but he persisted as bade . . . and created the monstrosity he would call bulgogi. He saw nothing wrong with it, because Yi Sang has a bizarre sense of what constitutes a good meal after years of subsisting on expired food! For how much of the pits he was in, his sentimentality was such that he still mourned the meat once it was trashed by Edamura, who went on to demonstrate proper techniques in the kitchen. How much of the lesson stuck remains to be seen, but he did note that Edamura seemed quite knowledgeable and, between this and their first meeting, left the impression that the latter was very caring and reliable. Yi Sang was self-aware enough to know he'd done nothing to endear himself to Edamura, who provided nevertheless.
Then the ghosts appeared. Edamura was uncharacteristically solemn, which prompted the question of whether or not he was all right. Yi Sang was apathetic when it came to his personal happiness, which seemed out of his reach, but he became more responsive whenever someone was hurting as he does not enjoy and has never delighted in seeing others in pain. He thought that Edamura must have been feeling some sort of way, if not outright hurting over the ghost of the woman in the bedroom; in order to alleviate that ache, he offered to move Edamura's things. (This was the precursor to later in the game when it would become clearer that Edamura quieted in the face of pain.) While Yi Sang didn't understand why his ability to read was so funny to him, it was at least good to see him lighten up as they began their walk.
When asked, he explained that Sang Yi, his assigned apparition, was his reflection. The full story of this was that, at the height of his happiness as a member of the League of Nine, where inventors had gathered to showcase their creations, he'd made the mirror with the hopes of continuing to live freely, laughing among friends and fellows. He'd met Sang Yi, his left-handed self from another world, during the tuning phase. In the aftermath of the League's violent collapse, Yi Sang, drowning in his grief, had clung to the mirror and his reflection within. So Yi Sang could see how his obsession with the mirror might not have sounded like such a healthy thing as remarked by Edamura, though he was of the belief that Sang Yi had been good for him in the end. If not for him, he wouldn't have struck out alone in aimless pursuit of somewhere to call home again.
All in all, by the end of the week he considered Edamura to be as he described in the post-ceremony discussion: thoughtful and reliable—a sensitive soul who must feel so much deeper than the surface already suggested. After all, Edamura got on his case about his qualities after Yi Sang had delivered what he thought to be an objective evaluation of himself. It was a kind, if unnecessary, gesture.
And so, he worked diligently on the balloon gift to Edamura, entirely unaware of the beef with beans. He'll offer a heartfelt apology the day realization dawns.
By the fourth week, Yi Sang was healing! Now that he was less trapped in his own thoughts, he became more active at involving himself in others' affairs. When the secrets dropped for the last time, he was concerned for everyone, but particularly for Edamura in the moment the latter went rigid. It was a sign of some sort of hurt, hence the suggestion to get fresh air where it was quieter. Yi Sang did have some things on mind, but his own secret wasn't anything horrifying so much as it was a point of shame for him. Drugged and kept in a white room, the plaything he'd created for laughter had been misappropriated by those using him for harm; even in his depressive and indifferent state, the realization had left him feeling violated by his compatriot. While he wasn't proud of his complicity in the perpetration of violence against others, no matter how unknowingly, by this point he'd come to terms with much of what had happened to him.
Edamura's wound, however, seemed raw still. He felt deeply. He was caring and loving, but also resentful and crying out still behind his easygoing smiles. Yi Sang is no proponent of violence, so he refrained from commenting overmuch on whatever had taken place between Edamura and Edamura's father; however, he'd once had a friend on whose suffering he hadn't lingered nearly long enough to see the extent of the cracks in Dongrang's heart, and he was determined not to repeat the costly mistake with Edamura, who'd been nothing but kind to him, regardless of his true nature. As he heard more, Yi Sang thought that he could understand the grief to a point, hence his comment about how time came to a stop for those still mourning. This was why he asked if Edamura had an item to which he was partial, because he wanted to see if he could make something like it in order to raise his mood.
From this point onward, Yi Sang was extra attentive to Edamura, who was in such visible pain during the truth booth that he decided to throw a bone by commenting on the coffee. He thought that Edamura had a big heart despite its darker facets, and he strove to cherish that. The resultant response was a bit overwhelming for him, but he was glad to see a smile on Edamura's face again.
Their bonding continued in the final party, where he made a beeline for Edamura's skewers. He chose chicken as a callback to their conversation at the kitchen, which he'd brought up then out of nostalgia for the friends with whom he'd once enjoyed the treats. As Edamura was considering others for his wish even now, Yi Sang made a wish of his own that the former's thoughts would be conveyed clearly in support of Edamura's struggles with the liar persona. Only good could come of honesty from a heart that had always been transparent in its capacity to give. Edamura was so very human, and the sentimentalist in Yi Sang was fond of that. He spoke from experience of the joys to be found in the air after a sunshower, which is how he describes his treasured time with the League. Now he had a new fellow in Edamura, with whom he was eager to indulge the appetite he'd been lacking the first time they'd attempted connecting over food.
Incidentally, he likened Edamura to a kindling at hot or not, because he defines attraction based on emotional attachment. Yi Sang considers himself not necessarily a source of warmth, but as someone who feels keenly the comforting heat of those around him, which is why he was impossible to offend for those rating him. The kindling represented Edamura's desire to be truer to himself—a humble wish that, with encouragement, could be kindled into a striking and caressing fire. Yi Sang, knowing what he does, wishes above all else for Edamura to thrive and be honest with himself.