Ah. I see.

[...]

Well - no, I don't.

[The gloves aren't back on, but his hands are hidden underneath his thighs. He's not melancholy so much as - resigned.]

[YOITE IS FROLICKING. DO YOU SEE HIM FROLICKING? DO YOU SEE HOW HAPPY HE IS ( Read more... )

[brb catatonia. Yoite is currently taking up a complete bench. His hat is off, and so are his gloves. (By the way, his hands look like THIS so uh.)

He's also completely listless. His eyes are sort of open and once in a while he blinks, so he's not asleep, but he's not... responsive, either.

Find him if you like, but he's just gonna chill here until ( Read more... )

[Yoite is at the kitchen table, and he's writing. There's paper scattered about, within three feet of where he can reach, but what he's working on is this.

It might be the most serene you've ever seen him.

There's an open book nearby, too, that he's working out of; a magnifying glass rests atop its pages. His hat's even off (though not his gloves; ( Read more... )

It's finally over.

[His gifts are in a pile; he isn't returning them, as Miharu did, but he doesn't want to accept them, either. He's had a very bad couple of days. It may show.]

The order of things seems [...what's a good word to use?] acceptable, again.

Yukimi, I've brought a certain person to stay for a while. [Then, awkwardly,] It also means I won't be in the kitchen cupboard, anymore.

I'm tired of all of this.

It doesn't concern me.

I don't like Christmas.

The Shinrabanshou is gone.

[Yoite, as he was saying this, was yet again curled up in the floor - he was, at least, in a seated position, though. This changes about five seconds after he speaks the second sentence; he just sort of. Tips over. Onto his side. Still curled up.

Flop.]

I have Yukimi, again. It's much better, now ( Read more... )

[Birds are flying away, startled, scared out of the trees by bursts of disturbed air that are kicking up dirt and leaves, breaking branches ( Read more... )