There was laughter in his head, and he habitually ignored it. After a series of abandonment, Laruku had figured it would be easier to just be alone, always. At some point, of course, he had realized that what he had really wanted was the opposite, but by then it was too late. By then, loneliness was the really the safest bet, at least for the others that may be involved. By then, the laughter had begun, and it hadn't gone away since. Loneliness was the way it needed to be, and he embraced it now because it was the only thing he had left to do. Besides break down, but he'd been there too. It didn't help. It didn't change anything.
Good for you,
the blind man said plainly. Maybe it was sarcasm. Maybe not. He couldn't tell himself. Why bother with me then? Or with any of the questions? Even if you do remember, it doesn't matter now. You've said it yourself.
The lanky hybrid turned away again, clearly ready to escape the conversation if he could. The past was only as important as you made it out to be. Memories were only poignant if you allowed them to remain vivid, if you thought about them constantly. It's how he had set himself up for failure. Laruku hadn't thought about Maluki in a long time. It was why he preferred he stay in the past now. If Jefferson wanted to remain Jefferson and not Maluki, then they should have no reason to pursue the topic further.