damned_institute | Day 37: Men's Showers

I wouldn't really call this a locker room. More like a bathroom with lockers. The place was uncomfortably crowded, with almost every adult male patient being hustled into the showers at once, but Phoenix wasn't as annoyed by the claustrophobic, milling throng of bodies as he might have otherwise been. Every extra person was one more person who might end up standing between himself and Edgeworth.

He knew that the prosecutor would have a fit if he found out about this. He'd known since he'd tacked that first response up on the bulletin board. And in a way, he couldn't blame him. Phoenix knew that he jumped into things all-or-nothing more often than most people. At the same time, he had some kind of reality testing. He wasn't going to learn the basics of how to defend himself and suddenly decide that he was Rambo.

He found an unoccupied locker in the southwest corner and glanced around, trying to gauge how long he could possibly stall in a locker room, looking as if he was expecting something, before people started looking at him strangely. It would have been easier if he'd known something of the description of the man he was supposed to be meeting. As it was, all he had was handwriting and a military rank, neither of which guaranteed any particular appearance.

It's not as if there was a better way to plan this, though. "Yeah, meet me by the lockers. I'll be wearing gray and a smiley face, just like about a hundred other guys."

[for Hughes]

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Trying to shower with a broken arm really didn't sound like a good time, but Guy's nurse wasn't taking any of his protestations very seriously. She seemed adamant that he get clean, and while Guy certainly agreed that cleanliness was important, he was pretty sure that he could hold out a few days if it meant not having to try and wash himself with one hand.

Not to mention that with his arm set, getting it wet wouldn't be a good idea. Luckily, his nurse was prepared for that, and gave him some plastic to cover it with. She had tried to help him at first, but when he started freaking out, she let him do it on his own. It was difficult, but he couldn't let a woman get that close even in this situation. He felt ridiculous with the plastic shielding his upper arm, but at least it was more sanitary this way.

Moving over to one of the empty shower heads, Guy reluctantly reached forward with his left hand to turn on the water. He inwardly sighed as he waited for the water to warm, wondering how he was going to squeeze the liquid soap into his hands from the dispensers when he was crippled like this.

He noticed another patient nearby who was also having to deal with his injuries, and sent the man a brief smile. At least he wasn't alone here.

Kurogane supposed his leg could be worse for having been injured twice in such a short time. Him fussing over it wouldn't do him much good in the long run though, so once he was well aware of just how bad it was, he left it alone to check the rest. His arm was fine enough, and his neck as well, but he couldn't see the back injury. It hadn't bothered him much so he could only guess that it was fine as well.

He looked up briefly when another patient came close, as he always did, and saw the smile of the other. He didn't say anything to it, but did let his head lower a bit in a nod.

That wasn't much of a response, but maybe Guy should have realized that interaction in the showers was a lost cause unless it was with a friend. He had spotted Claude, but the younger man was already speaking with someone else.

Meanwhile, he couldn't help noticing the stranger's wounds. The man had definitely taken a beating, but that was fairly normal around here. Instead of staring, Guy merely glanced the other man over before he realized that he needed to do more than just stand there while the water ran.

He stepped under it, doing his best to keep his bum arm out of the way. It was awkward, but pretty much everything he'd had to do while like this was.

While Kurogane generally ignored others in the showers, he couldn't help but sense the eyes of the other man on him, and eventually looked up for more than just a glance. "You got a problem?" he grunted, not angry but still irked that someone he didn't know was finding it necessary to watch him.

Whoops. Guy certainly hadn't meant to offend, but he knew that some people were more sensitive about the shower situation than he was.

"No, no, not at all," he said, leaning back slightly so that the water could wash off his chest. "Sorry about that. But... did you need help with any of that?" He made sure to keep his eyes to himself now. He knew that it was ridiculous to be offering help when he should probably be asking for it, but he couldn't help being polite.

In the meantime, he reached forward and used the heel of his palm to squeeze the soap out of the dispenser into the rest of his hand. He started rubbing himself down with it, and while it didn't work particularly well, he supposed it was better than nothing.

Kurogane tilted his head but left his eyes on the other. Weird guy, especially with that kind of question. "Looks more like you're the one who needs help."

Not that Kurogane was offering. It was only an observation. In any event, shifting the excuse back took away from the subject of Kurogane's own injuries. As he'd thought, that had been the reason for the man's wandering eyes, but his injuries weren't anyone else's business. He'd handle them on his own.

"That's... probably true," Guy admitted, knowing that there was no point in trying to deny that. Still, he was managing on his own so far, and he just had to keep reminding himself that he would be fully functional pretty soon.

He didn't spend too much time trying to wash his body, mainly because he didn't want to accidentally hurt himself by pulling his arm the wrong way, and so soon he was busy gathering some shampoo into his hand.

The attempts at conversation hadn't gone over very well, and so Guy figured he'd just focus on getting himself clean for now.

If "probably" meant "actually", then yes. Kurogane didn't take the man's half-admittance to mean that he wanted help, so he also turned back to his own washing. His injuries were fine enough, so he went about the task of getting whatever remained of Fai's orange juice out of his hair. As much as the stickiness hadn't bugged him, it was nice to finally be rid of the stuff. He shouldn't have had it in his hair to begin with!

Day 37: Men's Showers

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