◣ better ◥ :

    He appreciates the fact that she settles herself a good distance away, and it’s far easier than he’d anticipated to settle down. It’s incredibly relaxing, to be able to just lay down & close his eyes; no worries about whether– ah, but he supposes he will need to contact Mori. As infuriating as it is to admit to himself, the way he is now he’s in no fit state to be working. Perhaps he could do paperwork ? But even then, perhaps Mori would insist he rested.

    Because he’s of no use this way. Shrugging aside the thought, Chuuya strives to focus on nothing at all. He barely takes notice of the way the covers shift when Kyouka pulls them a little further up, only peeking his eyes open to check that she was alright there after a few moments in silence. With a barely coherent huff through his nostrils, he carefully turns so his back is against the futon, and he stares up towards the ceiling.

    As exhausted as he is, Chuuya finds it a little difficult to clear his head of intrusive thoughts. He’d already started thinking about how tough this must all be on the girl to his side, and seeing her this way he’s reminded of his life in the mafia at her age. He, too, had Kouyou; so it was bearable. But he also knows how Kouyou can be, and he knows what it is she must be telling Kyouka.

    Because he’d heard the same, even if they did lead different lives in the end. But there’s no use thinking about it, because nothing can be done to change the course of events laying in wait for either of them. Everything is inevitable and nothing is as malleable as he’d like it to be. He briefly wonders if that man feels the same, but pushes it from his mind.

    “ …Good night, ” he murmurs under his breath. Whether or not she’s asleep just yet, he believes it’s necessary. & His eyes flutter closed, arms folded loosely across his abdomen. Chuuya briefly nuzzles into the blankets, and - eventually - he drifts off to sleep.

◣ ✿ ◥ The girl fell asleep before hearing the words, but if she hadn’t, they would surely be appreciated. Ah, but maybe she should have said it before sleeping as well? An eventful day appeared to have left her manners lacking. Chuuya could forgive her for that, hopefully, so she figured she had nothing to worry about in that regard.

She slept soundly, curled up on her side, and the only dreams that reached her were formless and barely there. It would’ve been unfortunate for nightmares to choose then to invade (she was glad they didn’t, if not for her own sake then for Chuuya’s; he didn’t need to deal with her pent up emotions on top of nearly dying).

After a few hours of rest, she awoke once more, and she watched to make sure the man was still breathing before sneaking out from under the blanket and off the futon. Food. She should make food–at least, she could gather something edible, but cooking wasn’t her forte. And tea, too, for its nutrients and whatnot. Kyouka first padded off to the kitchen and ate a snack for herself, then went about gathering supplies for a more substantial meal for when Chuuya woke up.

She stepped back in the room and saw his torn, bloodied clothes on the floor, which she’d forgotten about in cleaning up earlier. So she picked them up, carried them to the dirty laundry, and returned with a clean shirt that would hopefully fit him. She folded it neatly and set it next to the futon. Once finished with that, she returned to the kitchen, setting the kettle on for tea.

While the water boiled, she prepared two plates with pickled vegetables and eggs she found in the refrigerator, along with a few other fruits that seemed appropriately healthy. She worked at a slower pace than she usually would, so by the time she even pulled out cups for tea, the kettle already began whistling.