Day 51: Breakfast

[thatdamnedninja.livejournal.com]

Yuffie Kisaragi, indomitable bouncing ball of sunshine and unfathomable ebullience, was tired. It'd been a long night full of gibberish and getting nowhere fast.

"Can't I—"

Plucky, who had been busily loading a plate full of French toast and bacon, tittered. "I'm afraid not, Hanna, darling. A chat over a nice, hearty breakfast would do you a world of good, don't you think?"

"Aaaaactually—"

"Come on, let's find you a seat. Plenty to choose from this morning!"

For a long moment, Yuffie seriously considered doing something—anything—to act out. Punch her nurse, rub jam in an orderly's face, climb a wall and hang off the ceiling, jump on a table and parody Loveless… A ruckus like that would definitely jolt her back into gear, right? Sedation aside. And it'd turn Plucky's good day right on its head, which was always a bonus worth shooting for.

But, by the time she'd reached a decision—and it was an epic decision, a really awesome one; everybody'd appreciate the genius, she was sure—she was already alone. Her breakfast tray had been set down neatly by the nurse, who had left with an infuriatingly winsome smile.

"Wow," Yuffie muttered. Shaking her head, she picked a chair at random and threw herself into it. She kicked back, one arm slung across her eyes, to wait. For what, she wasn't totally sure. Some moron to decide that she looked like good company? That was how it usually went.

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[idontregret.livejournal.com]

The awkwardness increased as she reached for his arm, and his face turned slightly pink. However, he didn't move it away, allowing her to get a better look at it. "Sure. Maybe." He had no idea what a Persona was like, but if they used the same sort of spells he did, then perhaps there were similarities. Every time he thought he had a handle on what he was, something else popped out of the woodwork.

"And stop saying that. You're not any trouble." Quite the opposite, really. She wasn't a demon, but she was more similar to those he knew than practically anyone else in the asylum. That meant something. She also wasn't crappy company, which couldn't be said for most of the people he came across.

He patted the top of Aigis's hand lightly, trying once again at the comfort thing.

[no-dont-go.livejournal.com]

Aigis wasn't sure what to make of the changing of color on his cheeks. Was he angry, or sad? What feelings preceded a blush? His words sounded relatively neutral. So Aigis just tilted her head as she traced the outline of the hungry flame. "I assure you, it is a good thing." If Heat's type of demon really was more like a Persona than a Shadow, then that would technically make him a guardian spirit rather than a hungry, soul-eating monster.

"It gladdens me to hear that," she said, truly very grateful for his kind words. But it also strengthened her resolve to work harder, to become someone who truly deserved to be seen as an asset rather than a burden. He may think she was no trouble, but she knew the truth. She would work hard, and without a doubt she would become the person Heat thought she could be.

She sighed again at feeling his reassuring touch on her own hands. If anything, this body made up for its impediments by giving her the ability to understand sensation. And Heat's hands were especially warm, perhaps even warmer than Minato's. It made her wonder, did his name come from such warmth, or was it because of his ability to use Agi?