Day 24: Breakfast
Aidou Hanabusa, a vampire, was one of the first into the cafeteria, which was swimming in dim sunlight. A grey morning suited his mood.
The fact that his biological clock was pitching fits was only the cherry on top of the cake; the last thing he wanted to do was sleep. "Waking up", once again, with no memory of how or why he'd been brought back ( Read more... )
The fact that his biological clock was pitching fits was only the cherry on top of the cake; the last thing he wanted to do was sleep. "Waking up", once again, with no memory of how or why he'd been brought back ( Read more... )
He hated mornings, and this was under even the best of circumstances. Last night was decidedly not the best. He hadn't been injured, and certainly not as badly as Homura or River, but how long would that last? And how could Tamaki or Haruhi or the twins take care of themselves...? "Why am I even here?" Kyouya groaned after his nurse departed, and buried his face in his hands.
Self-pity - not attractive to the opposite sex. He had to pull himself together. Slipping on his glasses, he went to look for his journal, which he found in the dresser along with...
Interesting.
Kyouya headed into the cafeteria early, pausing only a moment when he saw his best friend being accosted by-Renge? He kept one eye on them as he continued past, getting his daily breakfast tray of whatever before taking the seat across from a familiar patient.
"Good morning, Homura-san," he greeted briskly.
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"Ootori Kyouya." Homura returned the greeting, his voice lacking its typical coolness. "I'm afraid now isn't the best time."
Of course, the boy had no idea how fortunate he was. Normally when Homura said something like that, he was speaking to some opponent rather foolishly trying to throw their life away by fighting with him. And while Homura did indeed enjoy battle, he could be quite merciless when he was in a foul temper...and there was little fun when it came to battling the weak.
Yes, Kyouya was very fortunate. Most gods weren't quite so benevolent as Homura, nor as patient.
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He himself had been in a sour mood just minutes ago, but there was something satisfying about having the upper hand for once since he'd come here. And, well, he couldn't claim that seeing Renge be Renge wasn't a heartening sight. Not that it wasn't tragic that she was here too. Right. Were his priorities insensitive?
Kyouya casually picked up his tray again. "I thought you'd like to know that the metal you collected from the kitchen is currently in my room. If you wish, you can pick it up when night comes again."
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And Kyouya had it ready for Homura to pick up. If he wished.
"Smug this morning, aren't you?" It was said in the nicest way, of course, Homura's mood instantly seeming to brighten. How Kyouya could have done it was a mystery, but somehow it had happened, and Homura couldn't have been more pleased.
And Kyouya's attitude: the sense of superiority, the undoubting knowledge that he had indeed somehow gotten a victory, be it over the war god or the place where they were imprisoned, or both...and being unafraid to flaunt it?
That was a great thing to see first thing in the morning (at least now that Homura had perked up).
"It does suit you rather well. You should try and seize the advantage more often." A concession, as much of one as the war god ever gave, really. Though it might not be so easy to tell with the return of Homura's own arrogant smile.
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It felt good, in any case.
"Thank you. It's definitely on my list of goals for the future," answered Kyouya in his usual warmly polite tones, but there was no hiding the air of satisfaction. He was sure Homura didn't mind. "May I join you for breakfast, or is this still not a good time?"
While mornings were rarely social occasions for him, the demi-god's company had become rather enjoyable in their short acquaintance. However, if Homura still wished for solitude, there were probably other interesting characters in the cafeteria.
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It was very good, because Homura liked Kyouya...especially the potential he saw in the boy. Perhaps not as a fighter, Hmoura thought as he motioned for Kyouya to put down his tray, but Kyouya had the spirit of manipulator, and those could be just as useful.
"Will you be venturing out with me again tonight? Or will you make other arrangements?" Homura would use the common board to contact the weaponsmiths (hopefully with greater success than his prior attempt), but he had no inclination to waste time. The day would pass quickly, and the war god wanted to make his plans early. The lack of a goal ate up precious moments that Homura couldn't afford to lose.
Not if he wanted to taste true freedom again.
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"I promised that I would keep an eye on someone," answered Kyouya, starting on his eggs. He had no illusions that his best intentions alone would be enough to protect his classmates, but there was no one else to rely on... for now, anyway. "Of course I won't inconvenience you, Homura-san. Today will be spent meeting with people, and should I develop plans, your metal will be waiting for you underneath my bed. M11."
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Things got rather inconvenient when one of your party members died. It was a terrible distraction.
"That's considerate of you. Very well." If Kyouya was hoping Homura would be troubled by this development, he'd be disappointed. The war god was more than capable of making his own plans without counting on the teenager's presence.
After all, he hadn't spent nearly enough time with Konzen and his friends. Especially Kenren, who by all appearances had gone through something quite interesting since the showers, if his messy red hair was any indication.
And then of course, there was the matter of his sword. The burns at his side only served as an aching reminder of how much he needed one in this place.
Yes, there was plenty for Homura to do, and his smile remained unaffected. "Good luck on your endeavors, then."
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But he supposed monetary rewards weren't the only things you could get for a service. Besides, in a place like this, it wasn't as if money served much purpose. (When it came to patients. The staff, on the other hand...?) Most people were bound by feelings of gratitude and obligation, and in the long run, that could be a very useful thing.
"How are your injuries?" If he sounded concerned, it wasn't entirely feigned. He wasn't worried in the least, seeing how Homura was alive and fully functional, and Kyouya had managed to escape the night unscathed. But still, the Ootoris were into hospital management.
And this was twice now that Homura had kept monsters from hurting him, or worse. Gratitude, obligation... how troublesome.
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Reaching the cafeteria, Tsuzuki gladly loaded his plate with more food than it seemed possible to eat by one man before scanning the cafeteria for someone to sit with. It was really full by this point, and everyone was talking and eating. Hisoka had told him to gather information, and seemed to already be doing so himself.
Approaching what seemed to be the closest, friendliest individuals he could find who didn't seem to be thoroughly engrossed in conversation, he set his tray down beside them, but didn't sit down just yet.
"Good morning," Tsuzuki greeted them cheerfully. "Mind if I sit here with you two?"
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And Homura felt no great compulsion to go back to that room again so soon.
"Treated." Treated, but certainly not healed, and certainly still there. It was annoying how each time he moved, even in the slightest, tremors of pain and nausea teased at his torso, uncaring reminders that he was indeed mortal, and so weak now.
They were most likely the reason Homura had yet to touch his breakfast, despite his improved mood.
And then a new person, inexplicably cheerful given their surroundings, and one who Homura couldn't remember seeing before. Well, he had just been thinking about making plans, hadn't he?
"Not at all. You're free to sit where you like."
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"They appear to have done a proper job of it, at least," Kyouya commented, looking him over. In fact, anyone looking in now would be hard-pressed to say that the patients were being neglected. The only disquieting part was that there were so many injuries in a mental hospital. "It's an interesting game they have us playing: monsters at night, care and plentiful food during the-"
Kyouya stopped himself when the man approached, and raised his eyebrows at the 'plentiful food' piled onto his tray. But this surprise was gone in a second, replaced by one of the teen's warm host smiles. "Hello, sir. Of course it's fine. I'm Ootori Kyouya, and this man calls himself Homura."
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"Thanks! I'm Tsuzuki Asato," the shinigami introduced himself in turn, giving them both a big smile. With lots of food on his plate and a fairly successful night, he was in a very good mood. Even with his legs being bandaged up.
"So, what were you two talking about?"
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But that was what had made the boy stand out in the Heavens, wasn't it? It was what made Konzen change, what sparked a fire in the infamously icy deity.
It could be that they shared the same stubborn streak as well...which would make Tsuzuki a fun one to play with.
"Isn't it a bit intrusive to ask something like that so openly?" Homura placed an elbow on the table, propping his head up as he looked to the side at the new addition. His smile was a cocky as ever, and his eyes gave away no indication of the pain he still felt in his side. "Especially to complete strangers."
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He picked up the untouched journal from where he'd placed it on his tray, and cracked it open. Hadn't it been Hikaru who said that it was strange to see him without a notebook? He might be here, and this paper grade wasn't what he was used to, but he was still Ootori Kyouya.
Sitting back, the teen touched his pen to the page and started writing.
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"Oh, I'm sorry," Tsuzuki quickly apologized, looking between the two, but mostly at Homura. "I didn't mean to be intrusive or anything. I just didn't want to interrupt your conversation..." Which, now that he thought about it, made no sense, since he was kinda interrupting just by asking to join them and sitting down.
"I was just trying to be friendly," he added, as a sort of last ditch attempt to explain himself without seeming too rude. Why did he always screw things up like this?...
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