Wednesday1.48 - No One Calls Home Anymore

[genuinelie.livejournal.com]

Ran lurched down the hallway to his room, rifled through his bedside table to find his phone. Hit the first speeddial. His heart was beating fast with trepidation.

That shouldn't have happened with Yohji. He should have been on the streets, looking for his sister. He'd gone after Yohji -

- no matter that it had been in a car -

He should have gone after his sister as well.

But the fact was, she'd run to get away from him.

His mouth downturned, he waited somberly for Omi to pick up.

Please, let her be all right.

He would give her more space. If it meant she would only run away when he tried to protect her -

There was nothing he could do. But if Omi had found her, and was able to bring her back -

Perhaps his choice to keep her here would be all right. Perhaps Weiss could do what he could not.

Please, pick up.

Wednesday1.49 - Let's try this again

[skyrat13.livejournal.com]

He wasn't sure if he had actually fallen asleep or if the images in his head where just part of his usual troubled thoughts; he was too out of it to tell the difference. All he knew was that he couldn't stand to rehash Neu's death for what must have been the twenty-eighth time in a row that night. There was nothing restful in a broken record. Had any genuine sleep actually managed to slip into play it had been the type that only left you more tired when you awoke.

He was disgustingly dirty though, and surely his bandages where overdue for changing. Yohji had no trouble justifying to himself his departure from bed. Surely a shower ranked in equal value to the much prescribed 'rest.'

He took a long one, the feeling of contamination lingering long after all the physical grime had sloughed off. The hot water stung his lacerated skin with a burning prevalence. Yohji gritted his teeth against the pain but couldn't seem to stop scrubbing himself. Eventually it turned cold, and even then he was reluctant to shut the water off.

His job with the bandages was less meticulous than the washing. Between Ken and Mastermind's collaborative efforts he was pretty thoroughly stitched up. They had done an effective job, and so Yohji was somewhat sloppy in binding up his shoulder and chest.

He found himself back in his room, somewhat disorientated. He pulled on an old worn-out pair of pajama bottoms, but abandoned the effort of either finding a shirt or drying his hair. For a second he warred with the responsible feeling that he ought to return to bed.

His bed had possibly never looked less appealing.

It was practically on autopilot that Yohji found himself approaching Ran's room. He didn't allow himself to really think over what he was doing, he just let his legs move. Knocking seemed pointless; he barged in without even looking to see if Ran was present.

"I'm sleeping here," he mumbled and deliberately moved towards the bed, not intending to allow any room for argument on the matter.