Day 34: Breakfast

[screwthegods]

[starting off in M13]

The last part of the night was little more than a blur in Homura's mind. The men had rushed in, but not joined them, instead staying off to themselves. Before any of them had a chance to react, however, a voice sounded through the air, mocking some other person Homura had never heard of, and the patients themselves.

To Homura, whoever that man was, he sounded a great deal like a god.

But before he could ask questions, the demi-god found himself no longer in the chapel, but some strange room on a bed. Is that what Kenren had meant from his earlier warning? Homura sat up, glad at least that the world didn't spin when he did so. Then the same man from before began to speak again, with a completely different tone. It was confusing to hear him talk that way, calling them patients instead of prisoners as he had before. Homura listened quietly as the announcement was made, then got out of bed.

Maybe he wouldn't have to go anywhere yet. It wasn't like Homura knew where to go anyway, and that meant he had time. If this was his room, and if he had been here as long as Kenren had said, there was a chance he could find something with answers. The Taisho had even told him that Homura had seen Rinrei. Certainly he would've written something down, made a map, something that could let him find her again! He started with the desk at the end of his bed, first finding a small stack of notebooks. Picking up the first, he flipped through, turning the pages with quickening desperation as he found each one to be blank.

Comments

[mukuchi.livejournal.com]

What an odd way of talking. And the way Mello had his hands at the base of the glass of milk was almost...possessive? No, that couldn't be it. Mori was just too used to seeing Mitsukuni with his desserts. "Mori."

Regarding the man across from him for a moment, Mori wondered if Mello was alright. He seemed distracted or something - like he wasn't entirely present. "Something happen?"

[cnflctofintrst.livejournal.com]

The comment was enough to set Mello on guard, and the haze in his expression immediately shifted to suspicion. "No," he said. He leaned back in the chair, watching the newcomer through slightly narrowed eyes as he ceased chewing his fingernails and picked up one of the two glasses. "Just tired," he added with a deliberately casual shrug. "This place needs coffee."

But not as much as it needed chocolate. Mello took a long, grateful sip before returning the half-empty glass to the table.

[mukuchi.livejournal.com]

There was a quick change if Mori had ever seen one. The suspicion was unwarranted as far as he was concerned, but he wondered why Mello was so quick to be put on defense. The way he was acting had a practiced feel to it, as if Mori were watching an actor rather than a person. He was attempting to act like he was just irritable from lack of sleep. Well, why counter that, right?

"Mm, coffee would be good." Or green tea. Freshly prepared green tea would be good, too. Or a nice morning cup of tea. Or Haruhi's oddly delightful instant coffee. Mori watched as Mello drained half the glass of chocolate milk and wondered if the guy had the same sort of addiction Mitsukuni had to strawberry anything. It wasn't unusual to have more than one glass of the same drink though, so he kept that thought to himself. It still felt odd to be talking, but...well, Mitsukuni wasn't there and he had been told to be social, right? "..."

Or not.

Nonverbal was really the way to go. Mori picked up his glass of chocolate milk and held it out to Mello, wondering if he'd like it instead. It wasn't like Mori really needed it.

[cnflctofintrst.livejournal.com]

Mori certainly knew how to make friends.

Mello smiled at the offered glass and accepted it, distantly wondering how his breakfast companion had known he wanted it. Like the cake he'd eaten the previous night, the chocolate milk was a desperately welcomed relief even if it didn't provide much of the caffeine he knew lay at the root of his problem.

Although the suspicion didn't leave his face, the edge of it had softened. "Thanks," he said. He settled more comfortably into the chair, holding the new glass in his lap after taking a sip. Before long, they'd all be empty, but his impulse control was strong enough to spare the milk a few minutes of existence. Maybe. If it was lucky.

"How long have you been here?" He might as well make pleasant conversation. Mori was a potential ally and a confirmed source of chocolate.