| Girls Girls Girls [closed to Genma and Kaito] | [Apr. 29th, 2009|02:10 pm] |
[Takes place March 20th, two days after Hit the Mark and the day after No Explanation Necessary.]
Kaito slept for twenty-four hours after he and Natsumi got home, woke long enough to take a piss and drink some water and then went back to sleep for another twelve. Another piss, more water, feeling his raw, over-used pathways finally starting to ease off, and more sleep. Eight hours that time, and when he woke the sun had set.
Kaito staggered down to the cafeteria, ate, and staggered back up the stairs to bed. He really hated soldier pills. They made his pathways sore--and he wasn't used to using his bloodline limit pathways for any length of time. They'd have been sore anyway, but add to that artificial chakra and... ugh.
At least they'd gotten Osamu home. He wondered what had happened to the guy afterward. Poor miserable bastard.
He thought about hitting the rec room to watch TV or play some video games, but fell asleep again before the thought was completed. Being chakra and sleep deprived at the same time sucked.
He woke in the morning, got more food--now he was ravenous--watched the tube in the rec room (not that he was hoping Natsumi would show up, because why would she?), got yet more food, lingered in the cafeteria (not waiting for anyone, no sir) and headed back upstairs for a nap.
When he woke he made a much needed bathroom stop. Then a cafeteria stop. And for the first time, he was actually beginning to feel normal again. There was a message at the front desk for him; he took it with a mumbled thanks and unfolded the note, skimming the contents. His mom, checking in. Making sure he was alive and well (and was he coming home any time soon to pick up his clothes? He was pretty sure she'd thrown them out...).
He crumpled the paper and shoved it into his pocket, taking the stairs two at a time. He was still in his pajamas, and now he stank. Bath next.
He gathered his towel and soap and headed to the men's showers, where he washed away a mission's worth of grime and several days' worth of sleep-sweat. He really didn't want to put his nasty-ass pajamas back on, so, after a moment's debate, he decided his room wasn't that far and just wrapped the towel around his waist before heading for the door.
Which was about the time Genma walked in.
Damn it. He owed Genma homework. He'd figured out how people got their way, analyzed it like Genma had said, and then Genma had given him MORE work to do. Imitate it. It was harder than it looked. Too much sweetness and people scoffed, too little and they smiled politely and left. This eros stuff was kind of a pain.
Which didn't mean he hadn't learned anything. While one hand held his towel up, the other slid to the hairs at the nape of his neck, tugging self-consciously. He slouched a little, making himself smaller, and quirked a crooked, apologetic half-smile at his sensei. His hair slid into his face. He didn't bother tossing it back. "Hey, um, so, I had a mission and I didn't have a whole lot of time to practice..." He offered Genma a very hopeful look. |
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