[Closed]

[alphaspider]

Characters: China, Kuroro
Location: Casualty Communal 11OP, groceries...
Rating: Great Papa
Time: Backtagged to November 29, afternoon
Description: Kuroro is determined not to get off the couch, and China is determined to make him. Negotiations and whining later...

Comments

[closedmarket]

He was there right on time - not a second early, not a second late, and he knocked exactly three times before opening the door himself, barely pausing before peeking around the frame. He'd hoped more than knew for sure that this was still Kuroro and Kurapika's room-- but, apparently, it was a fact he'd never forget.

Which was definitely a good thing. He wasn't sure if he could ever forget the sight of Kuroro looking like he'd been staring at a television for too long, though.

"Kuroro?" From the doorway, still partially hidden by the door - China was looking curious with just the barest underscore of what might have been absolute relief. Firstly because this was the right room; secondly because it'd been forty years. This was like stepping back into Mao's golden era.

[alphaspider]

Despite everything, despite his boredom and lethargy and general dislike of the world in general right now, seeing China in the flesh still had the gratifying effect of making Kuroro brighten up. It had only been a little more than a week for him, but when hours seemed like eternity in this state, a week was a week too long.

"China," he said in both greeting and an invitation to come in, straightening in his seat, a pleased smile on his face. He wondered a little at the fact that China had actually come, figured that the man was really, truly fond of them, and became even more delighted by this late revelation. "You didn't forget where we lived?"

[closedmarket]

"No. Although I almost did knock on the door two down from you-- it looked scratched and worn, so I had wondered..."

But he hadn't, and so here he was; entering fully with his name, arms folding over his military garb (it was the uniform he'd arrived in, unfortunately), just the touch of a smile easing up on his face. There was an odd, somewhat uncomfortable-making relief at being back in Death City, that was true, but being in this apartment - not a speck changed, and yet it was forty years - had him truly relaxing for the first time since arriving again.

It was good not to see Kuroro look quite like he hoped to become part of the couch, too.

"Shibusen still pays for all groceries, yes?" Because business came first, and it gave him time to truly look over Kuroro, not just through some tiny little screen.

[alphaspider]

"That's..." Kuroro thought about it for a few seconds. "Empty, right now. The person moved in with that prince, if I remember." But he couldn't quite remember who used to live there before Kuroro and Kurapika moved to the eleventh floor.

He stared at China for a moment, expression of wonder on his face, as he took in the military garb. There was something strange about it -- China didn't seem like he was suited for battle, much less one using technology and weaponry and ruthless tactics.

"Yes," he answered. If it had been forty years for China, there were bound to be some things he would have forgotten by now. "And clothes, too." Perhaps the country was cold in that. Kuroro slowly got to his feet, propelled by a hand to the armrest, and walked to the closet. A jacket -- Kurapika's -- emerged, and he handed it over.