concasse | Luceti Appointments Post

Suppose you got a point. [The water set on the stove, Sanji slowly migrates his way to the table and positions himself right across from Kotetsu]

So, how long were you out for?

Ah... [a considering pause

Wow, he really didn't really think about it. He just. Went.

Has he really been this bad? He can't even think of...]

What—day did you see me last...?

[A shrug] That's what I'm asking you. [He's so damn used to you taking off that he stops counting the specific days to spare himself the headache]

Maaah, it doesn't matter, I guess. You're back now. [He casually draws his line of sight up and down Kotetsu's face, assessing it]

[Kotetsu almost feels like a 10-year-old under the scrutiny of the look. No matter how old he gets, there are always times like that—and today, it's particularly apparent for him. Despite his best attempts, Kotetsu can't keep eye contact. He plays for the best thing he can grab a hold of:

He acts his role.]

Aaaah, yeah. It was a pretty tough mission, but it wasn't anything I couldn't handle. Kinda easy points, you know?

[Points, he used to make points, it's not that hard to do

It's part of his job back home. Was.]

There were close calls, but we got through it in one piece.

You shoulda' seen the teamwork we had going there, for a while. It was pretty cool, if you ask me.

[He's had days where he dragged himself face-first into his couch before. Bruised and scraped just like this. Skipped out on a shower just like this, achy, tired, full of self-doubt that spiraled into something nasty and ugly and almost mean-spirited.

But at least he always got enough points to keep his job. When things were bleak, he always did what he could to keep his promise to Tomoe. He can't be a hero to anyone here if he can't protect them; isn't that why he's getting points? So they can be free. Go home.

He's just being a hero in someway, somehow. If he can't be one for Kaede, or for Sternbild, or for Tomoe, he has to be one for the people here he cares about. He has to, to make up for what he failed at.

you're retired

it's pretty obvious why

Because he can't even protect his own daughter in his dreams?

ha]

Edited 2013-03-06 08:34 (UTC)

[Sanji nods along with his stream of talk, like an adult indulging a child who's half-caught in a lie and is just waiting for him to trip up. He pulls the cigarette out of his mouth and taps it thoughtfully against one of his ashtrays.]

That right? So what happened?

[Since the guy is in such a sharing mood and all. It's a fair question. And Sanji's on his best behavior, waiting patiently for the chance to be a good audience]

[Ah.

He—

didn't think that far ahead.

His expression falls.]

Ah... well...

[He shrugs.]

You know! Just typical stuff! We were watching each other's back against the third party; they were kinda shifty, tried to corner us, but I was able to help some of 'em get outta there in one piece! Same with them, y'know? They were good allies.

[He punches the air, and holds back a wince; that arm's still kinda' sore, but he can't even really recall how he did that little number.]

Lots of punching and kicking! And that thing the ninjas like to pull off so much around here.

Business like usual.

Aaah, regular Hero stuff. [Sanji sticks the cigarette back in his mouth and leans into his chair, with his arms carefully folded over his chest.]

Sounds like an exciting time. [He scratches thoughtfully at his chin] Kinda wish I'd been there. Blow off a little shitty steam.

[His eyebrow twitches.]

Aa.

[He leans back a little, shoulders straight, hands in his lap.]

Don't suppose I could use your shower? And maybe if you have any extra clothes...

Right now? At least wait for your shitty tea. [Arching his own eyebrow in return. Baiting you? No, of course not.]

And yeah, I got some you can wear.

[Hnngh. Dammit. Even his hair seems to droop at that.]

That's true...

Oi, but I don't want it if it's shitty.

[best comeback, right?]

And besides, it's no good to enjoy your tea when you're all gross from being away at work, naa?

... [Fine, asshole, he'll give you that one. Sanji tends to drown himself in the shower the moment he gets home.]

Alright, but use the bathroom upstairs. [he gets to his feet] The downstairs one is for the ladies only.

Roger that! [And thank god. He was itching to escape.

So he does, hopping to his feet (almost tripping, usual business) and moving to the upstairs as quietly as a Wild Tiger really can; bone-tired, yeah. For someone who's been 'dreaming' for days, he's so tired. He turns on the shower and just sits under it, laying backward, forgetting time for a moment. Thirty minutes tick by before he jerks back awake. He easily takes another 20 minutes caught up in staring at himself.

Tch... his beard is trying to grow in. It's been a few days since he shaved his chin into its usual appearance; faint, but still there. He'll fix that with a razor. Rubs a hand over the scarred flesh on his neck with something pouting, possibly dipping into tragic.

He's proud of the other scars. The burns from H-01, the shoulder wound from Lunatic. The one on his arm and at his collar, not so much. With a sigh, he drops his hand.]

What would you say, if you saw me now, Tomoe?

Maa... Probably slap my face between your hands and tell me to shape up.

[He plants his hands on each side of the sink, leaning in, looking straight into his own eyes.

He looks away, breaks the contact after a moment.]

I'm trying my best—I promise, I am. It's just... hard. After you died, I promised myself I'd protect people when they needed me. Make it up to you... for not being there when you needed me. But ever since I showed up here... Aah... I guess I'd be what Kaede'd call a real uncool loser.

[He clutches the edges tightly.]

I'm so lost, Tomoe... It's times like these—I wish you were here to yell at me and tell me what to do. I know I'm supposed to be the hero to you, but...

[He sinks down, pressing his forehead to the corner of the sink, eyes squeezed shut.]

You were always the better hero to me.

[Not to interrupt your moment, Kotetsu, but...

There's a knock on the door, hesitant at first, but then firm and quiet towards the end. Sanji is on the other side with a fresh pair of clothes - nothing fancy, just comfortable pajamas suited for the winter months.

And it's not just an excuse to check up on his friend. It's not as if Sanji's been hovering by the door for the past ten minutes like some anxious pup who can smell the despair hanging off the Hero. No, not at all.]

... I got your clothes.

[He easily puts on a smile as he peaks around the door.]

Aah--thanks.

[... No high collar? No high collar. Well duh, they're for sleeping in, Kotetsu. Not going on a business trip.

He hasn't bothered letting anyone see the injury to the low space of his neck other than Nami--and that's only because she was there when it happened. He takes the clothes, keeps hidden around the door. Pretty naked, n' all.

Maybe if he just waits for Sanji to go to sleep, he can sneak in, konk out, then escape early before the chef even gets up.]

Maa, you can go on ahead if you wanna. [He begins to close the door back. Seems like a legit plan to him; yeah, he can just avoid Sanji as much as humanly possible now that he's intruded on his house. Perf.] I wouldn't wanna keep you up or anything.

[He was up for tea, right? It's been almost an hour, he's probably drank it; he totally got out of that one. :|b]

[To that... Sanji doesn't say anything, and lets Kotetsu close the door without a hint of protest; there's only a nod to indicate he heard the logic in the man's reasoning.

And then, just as silently, he settles by the bathroom door, supporting the wall with his back as he waits, a new cigarette in mouth and arms crossed over his chest.]

[It takes another 20 minutes. Time goes by fast, for some reason; it usually doesn't, when he's in these moods. It's why he's so adamant about being on missions, or in the kitchen working. When he finally does come out, he's rubbing the tender spot on his neck that had already healed--nothing but a mash of tarnished skin, same ol' same ol'. But then he turns and startles at Sanji there, as if he really thought he had a snowball's chance in hell at avoiding him in his own home.

He turns awkwardly. Sanji gets his profile, mostly.]

Something up? ... Did I... use up too much of the hot water?

[By now, Sanji's worked his way through the extremely modest number of five cigarettes, all collected in the ashtray he brought with him. Yet he finds himself grateful when Kotetsu finally opens the door and keeps him from lighting his sixth; they've started tasting odd on his tongue.]

No, I was waiting for you. [He collects the ashtray in his hand, and whether on purpose or just by subconscious design, rubs his neck in the same fashion as the other man.] Wouldn't do if I just left my guest alone.

Though I don't suppose you'll still want your shitty tea?

You didn't have to wait up like that...

[Grumbly, of course. If he's a teeny bit defensive, maybe it'll make it sound like Sanji's being silly, and then maybe he'll let everything be. Only it's pretty lame when Kotetsu tries to grumble defensively, because it's routine.

...

The hand stays firmly planted, shoulder turned away.

Casually.]

... I could take a cup. [He was parched enough to drink from the shower head, let's be real. Just one cup, though. Especially with the way Sanji words it.]

I'll crash on the couch after that; just a cup'll be fine.

Don't be an idiot.

[Absolutely no bite in his phrasing. He turns and heads for the stairs]

And there are plenty of rooms if you wanna use them. [He shrugs] Or you could just take the couch in my room.

[It's a joyless offer, knowing the response he'll get for his troubles. Sanji makes it anyway.]

[Abandon ship; he's in worse enough shape for Sanji to surmise things from. He doesn't want to give Sanji anymore than that. He wanders away from the chef, back toward the stairs.]

Mouuu, it's no big deal. Couches are comfortable.

[Drink some tea, go to sleep. Done and done. It's easy. In fact, he hurries a bit, pours himself some, wanders off into the living room before Sanji can get himself all the way down the stairs. Is there a throw blanket on this couch? Because he's pulling it over his head like an old baglady and drinking his tea and that's that, okay.]

[This starting to feel like a stagnant game of hide-and-seek. Patience can be a strong point when it really counts, but his natural inclination is towards frustration. The chef narrows his eyes at that turned back and follows.]

Are you really not gonna tell me what happened?

[So he cuts to the chase while standing at the bottom of the stairs.]

[He sips his tea, shoulder turned to the other dismissively.]

Eeeeh, I already told you. Just usual stuff. You've been on missions before, haven't you?

[And there it is - the last dismissal Sanji can stomach. He sets the ashtray on some table and stands in front of the couch, his eyes slit.

The claws are out, Kotetsu. You might wanna brace yourself.]

Not ones where my entire soul felt like it was fucked out of a whack.

Or didn't I tell you about that? See, not only do I get to sense a person's presence if they're close enough, I can tell how they're feeling, too.

And the more I know the shithead in question, the better it works.

[He stares at Sanji, mouth parted, holding his tea in his hands. It's almost comical.

When he realizes Sanji isn't lying at all, he reaches up and pulls the blanket further around his head, like it'll defend him from the chef's power. Or his wrath. Whichever. Despite this, he still tries to fight this off with metaphorical fists.]

... Oi, oi, I just wanted a place to stay for the night. What would you want me to say?

I'll get over it. It's not a big deal.

[Oh, there. There's the last shard of his usual steadfast presence falling off and shattering into little splinter-sized bits... Maybe this was a mistake. Too little too late, Kotetsu.]

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1/2 nope nope it's longer than expected

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