badfic_manor | 29th bomb || Hayato Gokudera || [in person] || Backdated to Thursday

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29th bomb || Hayato Gokudera || [in person] || Backdated to Thursday

[After letting a rather distinctive scream from the morgue of the manor, Hayato had hastily scrambled up to the main floor. Shakily, he wandered through the halls, completely disoriented and very jumpy. He had his hands defensively wrapped around his stomach which is slathered in dried blood, as are his pants, and right shoulder.

After stumbling about the halls for a while he simply leans against the wall and slides down it into a sitting position as he tried to wrap his head around what happened...]

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[Hayato had gone back to that curled up position as he tried to gather his thoughts together again. It was all just so much to take in. On the one hand there was this little flutter of his heart after finally coming to terms with his feelings. On the other hand he kept running his death through his head over and over again. The pain, the fear, the blood. Everything was just so jumbled.

So while she was cooking, Hayato just took out his blackberry from his jeans pocket and tried to contact Ryuutaro, and when his boyfriend didn't answer he tried to call his boss. Neither of whom picked up.

When Mary came back with the food he just stared a bit vacantly, it took him a moment to take in the question. He... didn't know if he was hungry, but he sure as hell knew if he ate anything he'd just throw it back up after... but maybe it would get his mind off everything, so he simply nodded a little]

[Pleased at his nod, she moved further into the room and set the tray on the bed in front of him.]

That's a start.

It's tomato and rice soup...I always made it for Dean when he was sick or didn't feel good. I know it's not fancy...but it'll make you feel better and it'll be easy on your stomach.

[that was the most important thing. She had no doubts that he'd be sick to his stomach, at least if it came back up, it would be easy on him. Heavens knew that he needed something to be easy for him.]

If you don't like it, I wouldn't mind making you something else, just...give it a chance.

[He takes a spoon and starts swirling it in the soup, trying to rouse his appetite. His face had once again fallen back into that vacant stare]

I've eaten out of trashcans before... I'm not real picky with food.

[And in almost a habitual fashion he just started sifting through the soup with his spoon, checking to see if there was anything in it. Then he brought a spoonful to his nose to smell, completely oblivious to how rude this habit might come across. He couldn't take a bite yet either. So he puts the spoonful down and starts to stir his food again]

[This was seriously the saddest thing that she'd ever heard and seen. Frowning as he put the spoon back down, she moved back to sit in another chair, thinking that perhaps it was because of her.]

You don't have to do that anymore. I promise...as long as you're here, no more trashcans.

And...I wouldn't poison you.

[It hurt that he seemed to be checking to make sure she wasn't trying to kill him. She knew where he was coming though. You don't just take food from people that you feel threatened by.]

[He shrugged]

I know. I can hold down a job now. I got money.

[He glanced up at her then back down at the food somewhat guiltily. Right. He forgot not everyone grew up fearing that their sister had gotten hold of it before he did.]

It's just a habit...

[He took a deep breath and tried again, bringing it up to his mouth, only to have the smell make a wave of nausea wash over him]

...I can kind of understand. I don't always check my food like that, but I know why you do it.

[Okay, not completely, but it was enough. She could still feel bad for him. Straightening her back as she saw what looked like an expression of nausea cross his face, she fidgeted with her shirt, wanting so badly to hold him.]

Do you want some ginger tea? Or...some lemon perhaps? It'll settle your stomach if you're feeling sick.

[When you had a family and friends that bitched about medicine, you found other ways to cure little thinks like sickness.]

[He let out a half-hearted scoff, but his expression remains rather numb. he didn't care whether she knew or not, but he wasn't going to let her go around thinking she knew why he did what he did]

No you don't.

[He began stirring the soup, only now it was a more bashful and awkward gesture than before]

I-I'll just throw it up... I always do...

[Smirking faintly, she just shook her head.]

You don't have to eat it, it won't hurt my feelings.

[She'd just make sure that he ate something later. The boy had to eat, she knew that much.She just wished that she could do more for him.]

I can try to understand. If you want to tell me about it, I'll listen.

...

[He... didn't really want to tell her, but she made him food... and he was too messed up to eat it. He felt like he owed her something for the effort, so hopefully the most basic explanation will do...]

My sister used me as a guinea pig for her cooking experiments... she... can't cook normal food.

Your sister?

What do you mean she can't cook normal food? What did she make?

[He almost made it sound like she mad something not fit for humans to eat. But surely his own sister wouldn't do that to him...]

Well... the first time she cooked for me, she made cookies before my first piano concert... but she messed it up, and it got poisoned. I got real dizzy and couldn't play the piece right, but everyone thought it was 'modern' and 'new'....

[He let out an exasperated sigh.]

so my dad had her make the cookies before every performance... eventually she started experimenting with her poisoned cooking... and I was her guinnea pig. It got so bad that I got this psychosomatic reaction to her face. When ever I see it, my stomach just acts up on it's own and I get sick and pass out...

[Gasping softly, her hand tightened in her skirt. That was deplorable...how anyone could treat a child like that she'd never understand. He could have died so many times...no wonder he doesn't eat food someone else cooks.

And now she felt a little bad about everything that had happened between them. It also meant that she should tell Dean to go a little easier on the kid. After everything he's gone through, he didn't need anyone giving him any unnecessary grief.]

You don't need to worry about that anymore. I promise...and if anyone tries to poison you again, I'll deal with them myself.

[He narrowed his eyes at her, giving her a bit of a side glance.]

I can deal with it on my own. I'm a man, not just some helpless snot-nosed brat that needs to be coddled.

[Granted... that's exactly what he felt like right now. This pathetic whiny little kid. He wasn't supposed to be like this. He was a man, not a boy. He took a deep breath. No more tears now. He had to get over this... no matter how scared he was, or how much it had hurt, he'd just be a burden on everyone if he didn't.]

I can handle my sister, mostly, she keeps part of her face covered usually. Besides, if anyone else tries it I can handle it. I've been on my own since I was eight. I don't need someone else's mom to go fightin' my battles.

[Because that would be weird.]

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29th bomb || Hayato Gokudera || [in person] || Backdated to Thursday

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