Day 21 - Sun Room

[soul-defender.livejournal.com]

Ichigo was only too eager to leave the cafeteria and its fresh memories behind when the softened chime of the intercome rang clear. What had begun as another ordinary meal, a rather agreeable one despite the lack of the proper utensils, quickly became somewhat unnerving. His conversation with...what was his name again?...took so many sharp turns, he should've felt dizzy. It was easy to feel a little sorry for the guy, though; surrounded by stangers in a very strange place, it was hard to blame him for being so alarmed.

The Sun Room occurred as a more enjoyable choice to spend the time; he had nothing against music, but something about being surrounded by some of the most unruly characters he'd ever met, each of them armed with cacophonous weaponry, didn't sound smart. Once his nurse departed, the young man picked out a cozy little spot near a flood of sunshine and settled in, cradling his head in the palms of his hands. There, he stared up almost bitterly at the ceiling with sharply focused eyes, still exuding the same unapproachable sense of being as ever.

The room was warm, even a little comforting, for any of the tired, weary masses found in Landel's halls, or even those who just craved a little peace and quiet. All he could hear, from end of the room, were soft footfalls and hushed voices. That sounded just fine to the 'berry head.

Comments

[rabastlestrange.livejournal.com]

"I lost my brother!"

Squall was quite right. Bast was only a few steps behind him. Stopping to check the bulletin board had slowed him down a little. That and the resulting snarling match he'd had with his nurse who had patiently informed him that yes, he was real, and that he shouldn't pay any attention to those telling him he was just a storybook character.

Quite a few people had made Rabastan's list of Those Who Annoy (and Thus Must Die).

Unfortunately, it looked like the white haired terror was very close to finding Squall once more.

"What does your brother look like?"

"He's big and tall with blue eyes and brown hair. He has a scar across his face. He's a seed from the Banging Garden! Did you see him?"

It was a nurse that betrayed Squall in the end, or at least his location. "He went that way into the sunroom."

"Thank you!"

A patter of feet and Rabastan plunked down beside Squall again. "I almost lost you out there! Did you see those terrible things on that board? As if I were a character from a book. I'm real!"

He paused there, glancing up at Squall as his fingers twisted around each other.

"Aren't I?"

[broodingly.livejournal.com]

Squall had closed his eyes and was absorbed in his thoughts, opening them only when he felt movement near him. He straightened and glanced down, realizing Bast had indeed found him, as predicted. Oh well. He blinked at the strange question.

"I haven't read the board, but you look real to me."

The SeeD's comments didn't sprout from any desire to console the white-haired man. That was the truth. Bast seemed real enough to him. Well, taking into account that this whole world might very well be an illusion, of course, but he didn't say that. If this place was real, that would probably only upset Bast further. If it wasn't, it wouldn't mean anything to an illusion.

Squall's eyes turned skyward and then closed again. He'd need to get a hold of Zell. Maybe he could use that board? It wouldn't hurt, he supposed.

[rabastlestrange.livejournal.com]

Rabastan gave him a wide grin, getting comfortable beside him. With that matter settled, he seemed content once more. The fear that had been haunting him was gone.

"You're such a good brother, Squall. Maybe they were just playing a game with me. They shouldn't do things like that. It isn't very nice."

Bast's eyes narrowed as he grew still and quiet. Were one looking at his face now, gone was the cute and bouncing man of a few moments earlier. His eyes were calculating and cold then, the sharp lines of his face making for an unlovely, tight-lipped look that promised someone pain.

"Not very nice at all," he said quietly, even his voice having dropped some.

Blinking, he yawned and rubbed his eyes fitfully. Leaning over, he rested his head against Squall's shoulder contentedly.

"I'm glad I found you. What are all these people talking about that this place is horrible? I like it here. There's food and sunshine. I heard they even do arts and crafts sometimes. Not sure what that is, but it sounds fun."

[broodingly.livejournal.com]

Squall opened his eyes and looked down again at the man's comments.

"Games are usually harmless. Besides, you know you're real, right? Who cares what some stranger says about you?"

He didn't see what Bast was getting so agitated over. Of course, Squall never really cared about the opinions formed about him. He knew everyone thought he was a cold-hearted, closed-off recluse who didn't care about anyone. That wasn't 100% true, but people could think what they wanted. He wasn't planning on getting to know them, and proving them wrong might form some kind of relationship he didn't want. It was all pointless, and much easier to just let them form their own opinions, even if they weren't correct.

He studied Bast as the man's voice lowered, and something changed in his expression. Hrm. The guy didn't seem very stable, but what was Squall to expect in an mental hospital? It would explain why he got so needlessly upset over anonymous notes on a bulletin board.

Bast crossed the line, however, as soon as he leaned over on Squall's shoulder. The SeeD's hand twitched once, and he had to force himself to not just move him. It was horribly uncomfortable to have his space invaded so abruptly, but Squall thought about it. This man was unstable. If Squall did anything to upset him, he'd have to deal with the consequences, and there was no telling what those consequences might be. He had to sit and bear it.

Think of it as a mission, or something. Being attacked is one hell of a lot worse than having some guy's head on your shoulder.

"Arts and crafts...?" Squall felt his stomach sink. Great.

This place was better than being tortured, maybe. But arts and crafts? No way in hell.

[rabastlestrange.livejournal.com]

Bast tilted his head as he processed what Squall said, chin resting below the swell of the gunblader's shoulder. That disturbed light went out of his eyes, the cloudy look of his usual cheerfully stupid look coming back. The disturbance had passed for now. It seemed that as long as Bast didn't feel that his reality was being threatened, he was content to be harmless. That settled, he returned to snuggling Squall's arm.

"You're right. It doesn't matter. I couldn't be a silly character from a book. I'm as real as anyone. You're such a good big brother and so smart! What would I do without you?"

When the intercom dinged and the nurses came to move them away, Bast blinked puzzledly at Squall.

"What's going on?"

[broodingly.livejournal.com]

Squall sighed inwardly as he listened to Bast overly praise what he felt was pretty damn obvious. Oh well. At least the storm had calmed.

He glanced up at the sound of the intercom. That voice was so annoyingly cheerful. It ground on his nerves.

"We're being moved back to our rooms for dinner and sleep, I suppose," he answered Bast, watching that damn nurse head for him and reach for his arm. He sighed, but stood up, carefully dislodging the white-haired man as he rose. So back to his room it was, then. Tomorrow he'd go through pretty much the same damn thing, he guessed. The thought disgusted him.

Ugh. Tomorrow I'll have to make sure I had more time to talk to Zell. He made a mental note of it, nodding to Bast as he was led out of the room.