[Hearing the truth hurts. The boy Asher remembers is, for only a moment, before him one more time: small, withdrawn sharply into himself in shame. But he can't find it within him to fight back with any kind of barb in his own defense-- in the end it'd only hurt Asher again, and prove him right.

The weakness passes, because he is not alone. Because he fears his own weakness less and less, every day.

Jin manages a thin, rueful smile, leaning his cheek into Asher's palm.] You pushed back, though. If you hadn't snapped at me like that, I probably wouldn't have paid any more attention to you.