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Day 52: Game Room
Lunch had taken his mind from his worries, if only for a few minutes. But after the intercom sounded and the nurses began leading patients onto the next activity, one look at the bulletin board brought everything back in full force. No replies from Ashton, Dias or Dad. By now Claude felt like he was practically counting down until the end of the
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However, Howl would hesitate to say that he was happy to see Ryuuzaki. He had been frustrated and anxious, perhaps even guilty, that he had been unable to make a proper rescue attempt. He just hadn't wanted to have to deal with the consequences of Ryuuzaki's death, and he did like the man. Howl knew he had only been trying to hide from the inevitable fact that they could all die. Ryuuzaki could die, Sophie could die, Howl could die. And in the end, Howl would be unable to do much about it. Seeing Ryuuzaki should have washed away all those fears and allowed him to return to blissful ignorance, but it didn't work out the way he had hoped. The fear remained in his stomach like a rock, weighing him down and refusing to let him think of anything else. He had been dealing with the whole thing much better earlier, before he actually saw that his missing acquaintance had survived.
Howl didn't speak immediately, and instead went through the motions of fixing his hair, brushing it behind his shoulders. His eyes remained trained on Ryuuzaki's fingers as he set out the chess board. They seemed steady enough.
"My apologies for having missed you last night," he began. His voice was too calm, he realized. Upon speaking, it seemed too steady and unfazed to be real. He tapped his finger nail on the table in a small gesture of irritation. He dismissed the social expectation to apologize for having been unable to help. Apologies were pointless, especially with this man. Howl didn't think he could hurt Ryuuzaki's feelings even if he yelled and screamed at him for causing such insufferable distress by nearly dying. Again. So what good would an apology do if it changed nothing? Howl sighed with the weight of the world on his shoulders. "You need to break this habit of having near death experiences. My heart can't take it."
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He placed the last pawn, then gave it a nudge to be sure it was centered in the square, then sat back in his seat when he was pleased with his handiwork. "Abe must have found you. He told you that I was detained?... To be honest, it wasn't what I would call a near-death experience." He paused, drumming the tips of his fingers against the top of the table in a soft, slow cadence. The noise of the video games across the room almost drowned out the beat, and he shot an irritated glance in their direction, then exhaled, trying to relax.
"However, it was very unpleasant." The mask of apathy fell away as L made eye contact with Howell. He didn't know if Howell would be able to see how troubled and indignant he was: the procedure had been humiliating as well as painful, and the only respite from it had been the moments when he had lost consciousness. He let his gaze flicker down to the chessboard: orderly rows of perfect squares in alternating colors, governed by well-defined rules. When he looked up, he'd concealed all hint of emotion or resentment, and his expression once again revealed nothing more than mild exhaustion.
He lifted his hand from the table and gestured at the chair across from him, palm up. "Have a seat. We'll play."
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