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.

Comments

[slipperymagic.livejournal.com]

Howl had been disappointed when someone had joined him, but it was an inevitability. He didn't know this man, and so it was somewhat impossible for him to dislike him, but it was so early. Far too early to have to make himself presentable, he felt. The demands of every day socialization were simply too much to bear at this point. And yet somehow, he managed to find the focus and motivation to put on a convincing smile that reflected only the general poor mood of the asylum. He could allow himself that, as no one would be pleased to be taken from their home and dumped in his disaster. His thoughts flirted with sympathy, but fell short. Howl settled for an intellectual acknowledgment that others might feel similarly. They might have things they needed to do elsewhere. They might have people foolishly waiting for them to return and save them.

Howl waited for himself to experience an emotional response, for some tug of empathy... but nothing happened. He honestly couldn't care much, even if he understood. Trying any more than that would be exhausting and fruitless, so he abandoned his attempt to feel sorry for these strangers. It wouldn't help them anyway. His smile twitched slightly, but he covered it with a short, light laugh.

"I had intended to," he informed his breakfast companion. He stabbed his fork into his french toast in a playfully territorial gesture. He hoped that his sudden shift to this more sunny demeanor would make it clear that he didn't want to fight for his food. (Although he had decided he wanted to keep it. He had given in to his blooming appetite fully now.) "I think I may have fallen ill anyway, so you're best looking elsewhere to supplement your meal."

[oneman-onekill.livejournal.com]

He was a little odd, this man he'd sat next to: strange little melancholy smiles, sudden shifts in demeanor - almost like he was picking his moods rather than genuinely experiencing them, like this was a show. But then, being here for a while probably wore people down to the point where they became too tired for honesty anyway. Niikura wasn't going to give it much thought, not when this conversation was just small talk at the breakfast table.

He smiled - a small, casual one that conveyed his willingness to let the matter drop. "I wasn't gonna tackle you for it, ya know." He lounged back in his chair, letting an arm drape carelessly over the back. "Just makin' sure it wouldn't be goin' to waste in case your appetite didn't decide to spontaneously flip-flop."

[slipperymagic.livejournal.com]

"You can never be too sure," Howl commented lightly as he began to saw into his french toast. Making the food appealing felt like just another slap in the face. He could imagine that twisted wizard (or whatever he was) laughing over his (shoddy) rendition of a hospital, and deciding that everything would be horrible and painful except for the food. That way, they would have something pleasant to compare all of their pain to. After being abducted, chased about by monsters and dumped unceremoniously into lakes, they could wake up and feel the sharp contrast of despair against the lovely scent of syrup, muffins and fresh fruit.

"We are in a mental hospital, after all," he continued, and gestured around them with his free hand. Although he was careful to make the sweep around the room graceful and precise, Howl declined to look up from his meal at the crowd. Still, he just grinned with more humor than he felt, and suggested, "At least one of us might actually be mad!"

[oneman-onekill.livejournal.com]

"No, you can't," Niikura agreed. His own eating speed declined somewhat as he stopped to watch the other man dig in with a gusto. How, how curious.

"Although, mad?" The teen laughed. "I wasn't aware that appetites could go mad, but then, madness is different for everyone." He considered posing an example - a personal example - just to see what his fellow patient would consider it, but decided against the idea. This french toast was just too delicious.