Tempting as it was to just lay down and sleep the night away, pretend that it really was a hospital, that th door was locked and outside were just night-staff checking to make sure that patients were safe during the darkness hours, he couldn't quite bring himself to give up to such an extent, not yet. So once he heard the Head Doctor's announcement
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He needed to get to Sanji's room, but he wasn't exactly sure where it was... He was relatively sure that it was nearby, though. He set out into the hall, heading towards the place where he'd found Sanji's scent before and follow his nose from there.
[To here]
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That, and he was still annoyed at Farfarello's brushing off said mental state as apparently not being bad enough simply because he wasn't actively going insane and clawing at his temples yet. If he had been going anywhere for the night, it probably would have been with Farfarello, and for the moment the Berserker could bloody well look after himself for all he cared. It wasn't so much that he expected sympathy from Farfarello, of all people; if there was one thing his partner had right, it was that sympathy and sociopaths weren't exactly a standard combination. But Farfarello sure as hell expected to be indulged when he had issues - and what was more, he actively expected ( ... )
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"I brought you my dessert," he said quietly. "I figured that you could probably use the sugar more than I could." He'd seen Schuldig eat a hell of a lot of sugar so he either really liked it, or he needed the energy. Yohji was betting on the latter.
And now he had no clue what to say. 'I'm sorry' sounded so trite.
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"Yeah, probably," he acknowledged, glancing only briefly at the pie. He hadn't even eaten his own tonight - or anything else. "And since you're wondering, yes, I need the energy. Keeping up with telepathy practically requires hyperactive thoughts." He leaned against the headboard of the bed. "And you don't even know what to apologize for."
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Still, it had been the one thing that he'd really been looking forward to, after Sayu's visit. He wasn't sure if it was really a good idea to be sitting back and thinking about it by himself if he really wanted to stick with the decision. Even if Renji might not have been able to tell him if he'd made the right decision or not, he was still someone to talk to and help get Matsuda's mind off of things.
When that failed, he thought back to his brief conversation with Naomi on the bulletin board, and had tried that to keep himself occupied. So by the time the intercom finally went off, Matsuda was ready to go. F33, F33, he repeated to himself as he continued down ( ... )
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Artemis felt distinctly like pouting. He didn't understand what the problem was. If anything, Haku should be flattered that Artemis was willing to risk his own uninjured state for his sake. After all, it wasn't as though Haku could kill him. Theoretically.
"Yes, thank you," Artemis said, a little tersely. He got out of bed and began preparing the tank.
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"Do you want help?" He kept his tone polite, neutral. No sense starting a fight.
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This was decidedly depressing, Artemis thought miserably. Why did he always have to have things go his way? It was rather inconvenient when he actually cared enough about the other party to worry.
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While watching the other boy get ready of course.
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