[The attempt at lightening the mood - because Guzma knows he's not built for this, he can't offer his sympathies like a normal person - falls flat. He doesn't know how to comfort someone well, it's just not what he does, how he acts. To offer one comfort, the opposite side needs to be open and honest - qualities Guzma does not have readily available. But.
But.
He can't ignore the way Kukui sounds just now. It stabs at his chest, draws points claws against his chest and pulls. He wishes he could care less, but there's not a chance of that now. He stands, still a little leaden, and shakes his head. He's love to tell Kukui he's wrong, but now's not the time for that. Guzma's not ready to bridge the gap between them, but the trench seems a little smaller now. Maybe.]
Kukui... [That's it, that's all he can think of to say. What else is there? He's no good at this.]
no subject
But.
He can't ignore the way Kukui sounds just now. It stabs at his chest, draws points claws against his chest and pulls. He wishes he could care less, but there's not a chance of that now. He stands, still a little leaden, and shakes his head. He's love to tell Kukui he's wrong, but now's not the time for that. Guzma's not ready to bridge the gap between them, but the trench seems a little smaller now. Maybe.]
Kukui... [That's it, that's all he can think of to say. What else is there? He's no good at this.]