damned_institute | Day 29: Sun Room

It was with some relief that Yuuhi awoke the next morning, in his own bed, sore and tired and achy. He would've slept more had they let him, his face down in the pillow, away from all the others and their questions and their concern. He didn't want to see them, but he managed a little smile when the nurse came in and didn't object when she lead him out into the open hallway that had been splattered with blood, plenty of it his, just last night.

The Chapel or the Sun Room? He felt he had good reason not to be terribly religious and had a feeling he wouldn't be very welcome there anyway. The Sun Room would be nice though. It was bright and cheery and he could always doodle or write notes on the community board if he'd nothing better to do. Besides, the nurse was kind enough to let him take a book with him.

He found a seat on one of the couches, far from the entrance and seated himself in the far corner, legs scrunched up against his chest so he only took up one of the cushions. He opened up where he'd left off, fingers carefully turning the worn pages of Dorothy and the Wizard in Oz.

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And once again, Cid woke up to a sensation akin to that of a hangover without much memory as to why. He remembered going after Rufus with the rest of AVALANCHE (and thought back on it one more time to assure himself it hadn't been some weirdo nightmare), but how they'd fared in their endeavor and how the hell they'd gotten out of there was a little more fuzzy.

Not that missing time and vague memories were anything new in this place, and though those two points of interest have been extremely worrying in his home world, they were only mildly concerning here.

Didn't mean he had to be happy about it, though.

Cid responded to the intercom's announcement (and, subsequently, the nurse standing at his door) with little more than muttered curses and a couple of grunts. He was taken to the Sun Room because hey, the whole talking-to-God thing wasn't really his gig if it wasn't some symbolic slice of alien that he had to kill, and besides, he'd get to the cafeteria quicker that way once they opened the doors for brunch. (They had tea at brunch, and fuck if he wasn't going to take advantage of that small leisure.)

Still, as he scanned the faces in the crowd and still found no hide nor hair of Vincent, the mild concern deepened to cold dread. It had been a hell of a long time since he'd seen the guy, and while having a bunch of other old friends around was nice, it would have been nicer if his old Landel's-buddy had been there as well.

In any case, Cid wasn't much in a conversational mood. Like any other hangover, lights were too bright and sounds were too loud, so he resigned himself to laying down on one of the couches and closing his eyes until they were offered some goddamn food.

It was a little unsatisfying to be pulled out of a fight before it even finished, but Sora figured that he shouldn't complain about something like that. All he could do was hope that the bird creature hadn't injured Xigbar or Luxord - though then he had to wonder why he was that concerned in the first place.

They had helped him, though, and that gave him enough reason to be worried about them. He knew that Landel's was different, and that this wasn't about the Organization anymore, which meant that maybe working with them wasn't such a horrible thing.

That wasn't something he needed to think about too much now that it was morning, luckily. Once he got out of bed, he told his nurse that he would much rather go to the sun room. He knew that Mr. Landel might be at the chapel, but he didn't really want to see him. It wasn't like they could do anything to the man, and that would probably just frustrate him.

As the boy walked in, he looked around for people he knew. There was Tamaki, but he was already talking to someone else, and they didn't know each other that well anyway. There was also Kadaj and Cloud, but they seemed pretty busy with each other.

Then he noticed Cid. He'd almost missed the man because he was laying down all on his own, but it looked like something was bothering him. While he didn't have a very good track record with the man here because of all the confusion, Sora didn't give up very easily.

He walked over and stood in front of the couch for a few seconds, trying to figure out what to say. He decided he would just keep things simple. "Good morning!"

Cid jolted up at the sudden and instrusive greeting, fumbling with his own limbs until he managed to get ahold of himself and blink at what had roused him out of his short, short nap. It took him a second to place the boy's face, but once he did, he let out a sigh and rolled his eyes.

"Oh," he grumbled, shoulders sagging as he rubbed the back of his neck. "The crazy kid."

He stretched out his arms and opened an eye, regarding the boy with an accusatory stare.

"What the hell are you so happy about, anyway?"

What the man called him and his scathing question wouldn't have bothered Sora all that much if Cid hadn't looked genuinely unhappy to see him on top of it. He found himself drooping in response. It was also a little awkward that he had nowhere to sit since the man was taking up the whole couch.

Still, judging from what he knew of his version of Cid, he wasn't going to move over and give him space.

"Nothing, really," Sora responded with a shrug. He didn't see what was wrong with being happy just for the sake of it, and he wasn't that happy to begin with - not when he had so many things to worry about. He just liked to be bright and cheery when he could. "I didn't get too injured last night, so that's good," he provided.

Well, the crazy boy sure was friendly, and even if Cid wasn't sure that was a good thing in terms of indulging in some more shut-eye, it at least meant that whatshisface--Sora?--wasn't going to annoy him quite as much as Kadodgy or whatever.

"Shit," the pilot grunted, taking a second to register the boy's words before he looked him over with a dubious eye. "They're making kids fight their way outta here now?"

"Huh?" Sora blinked at the man before he realized that the man was making assumptions, just like everyone else always did. He sighed. "Don't worry, I did a lot of fighting before I came here, too. I'm used to it, and I can take care of myself. It's just a little harder here because the Keyblade doesn't work as well."

While he almost continued to point out that he was fifteen and therefore not a kid, that argument never worked with anyone. People usually didn't believe that he was any good at fighting until they saw it firsthand, but he could always try. It was better than just letting the comment slide.

Day 29: Sun Room

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