Day 51: Breakfast

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.

[identity profile] jouer-sans-voir.livejournal.com 2010-08-12 08:09 am (UTC)(link)
"No, nothing like that." Though this had apparently come in a harsh exchange for the cure from her previous illness, she could safely say it was nothing of the sort. Perhaps it would be easier to explain at least in part; anyone who'd been here for as long as Artemis would certainly know of the nighttime experiments. But at the same time, it wasn't something Nunnally wished to think of extensively, nor share with anyone who hadn't been through something similar. She had no desire to demand pity.

His comment, though, evoked a look of fond amusement, though it was not untouched by a hint of worry. Lelouch still was nowhere to be seen, though she kept the hope that she had simply missed seeing him, hadn't been able to hear him walk by in this press of people. "He does tend to be protective," she agreed, a little wistfully. "Though that's what older brothers are for. But... no, it was no fault of yours, don't worry."

At least, she was fairly certain that it had been no fault of his. From what she'd observed so far a physical touch was likely to cause it, but the two of them were sitting too far apart for that. There had been no trigger that she'd noticed -- so was it completely random, then? Hopefully not. Hopefully she'd soon be able to find a way to control this and prevent it from ever being used.