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[The conversation does well to distract him from the new situation he's in, and he'll gladly take the topic of soccer as a comforting familiarity. Someone out there, someone with cheerful slate-blue eyes and brown hair would say soccer had a way of bringing almost anyone together, even those who were only strangers that morning. Hakuryuu wouldn't say that himself, but he could at least admit that it made dinner warmer than just the noodles.
Midfielder.
It somehow makes sense. He couldn't really see the man as a forward, something about that personality seemed to place him in the center of the field. And he'd been too mobile during the game with Raimon to be a defender like that bearded man and blue haired man he'd seen.
A tactician? He holds his next bite by his mouth, some of the noodles falling out of the chopsticks in thought.]
[Honestly, when Fudou thought about it, the term "playmaker" only made him think of one person. Lighter, dreadlocked hair, goggles that were now replaced by sunglasses, wrinkles constantly formed between those brows except in moments of soccer-related delight. A brilliant mind who'd found the light at the end of the tunnel, placed at the side of a man who shone like the sun...]
I'm not sure if I was much of a playmaker as opposed to the guy who jumped in to change the flow of the match when necessary. Breaker, more like.
Every guy has a different role on his team, don't you think?
[That puts him into silence, half because he's gone back to eating, and half because he wants to mull over what Fudou had said. His stomach was not so patient in that it would sit quietly and let him chat away when food was warm and ready to be eaten, and in some ways, he's a little grateful for that. Noodles are shoved in his mouth to occupy it, letting it slide down and warm his entire insides, a satisfying breath released each time.
So he wasn't a playmaker by his standards, but something of a joker type of player. Interesting.
But one he doesn't remark further on. It's Fudou's next statement that catches his attention more. Every guy has a different role on his team, don't you think?]
Yeah.
I was the team's ace striker. [As if that wasn't obvious by the battle against Raimon, but he felt he should clarify in case Fudou hadn't been looking at the number on his back at the time.]
That's right. I was watching your play -- don't know too many guys who can kick like you.
[He's seen dozens of strikers, handfuls of aces. To this day, the ultimate striker is one he remembers from Inazuma Japan, the man who spun like a fireball and shot the ball with unparalleled power, but years down the line, or perhaps not even, he can see kids like Tsurugi Kyousuke and this one, Hakuryuu, usurping that legend.
He leans back in his seat, not forgetting his food but letting it sit for now.]
Hakuryuu, this is just a suggestion. It's up to you whether you'll accept it or not, but now that you're not on that island, it's up to you what you do next.
Pretty soon, the Sector will be gone. If Raimon wins this Football Frontier, then that'll be the end of it, and soccer will go back to the way it used to be. If you still want to play the sport, and want to see how far you can go with it... then I'll arrange things so that you can keep playing.
[It comes out almost like a mantra, like some training technique or coping mechanism he'd given himself to not be intimidated by other teams. He'd earned his power.
He breathes out, letting the food he'd inhaled settled before shoving more down. He'd finished about half the bowl, and he can feel the warmth seep into his stomach and the broth warm him where the bath hadn't, healing a little bit of his soul along the way. He notices Fudou do the same, setting his bowl down and leaning back.
And Hakuryuu listens.]
How can you be so sure the Sector'll be gone, just like that? Look how long it took God Eden to go down.
[Granted, God Eden was the source of Fifth Sector's Seeds. Without supersoldiers, it'd be a lot harder to control soccer. But he had a feeling it wouldn't be as easy as cutting a single, poisonous weed.]
[The answer is given without hesitation, Fudou's voice never losing that even tone, blue eyes as calm as an untouched lake as he meets Hakuryuu's red ones.]
They've been at the forefront of a resistance against Fifth Sector since the start of Holy Road. The semi-finals are next, and should they win, there's a new Holy Emperor who'll disband the Sector as he's appointed.
I'm not the one fighting these battles. The least I can is believe in the ones who are.
[And that answer works. Hakuryuu stares down at his bowl, remembering the strength of Raimon at God Eden, remembering how they'd pulled through with only a few words from their coach and evolved to something even stronger than he could be. If anyone could stop Fifth Sector, it would be Raimon.
The fire in his eyes softens to a warm glow, trying to hide the small smile growing on his face as he picks up his chopsticks once more.]
Tsurugi will be getting stronger. I can't slack off and let him become better than me. I'm his greatest rival, and I'll show him what my real soccer is.
[Before he goes back to eating, he pauses.]
Can you help me with that?
[Hakuryuu was always one to sacrifice everything for power. He had to on God Eden, where power determined your worth. It's what connected him and Shuu together originally on Zero. But this was different--he was sacrificing for strength, and somehow...that didn't seem like such a sacrifice after all.]
[Fudou is no Endou, Kidou, or Gouenji. He doesn't like to assume that things will go his way as those three are often wont to do. Endou had a way of moving people, and the other two were too used to following him around. Fudou, on the other hand, had picked up a habit of assuming that things wouldn't often go his way, and of increasing efforts to narrow the margin of error as much as possible.
But right now, in this moment, he feels what might be a fraction of what Endou Mamoru feels. Hakuryuu's response has him relax his shoulders, eyes narrowing with approval, and a small voice in the back of his mind says, "I thought you'd say that."]
If you ask me, you're uncut stone. Your strength and talent is real. Nobody can deny that potential, but you're still rough and jagged around the edges.
I won't make you change your play style, but I'll show you how to refine what you already have. You might be surprised by what some polishing and sharpening might do for you.
[That's new. In God Eden, there were only two groups you were classified to be--strong, or not strong enough. Hidden potential was just a hurdle that needed to be overcome or face the consequences. It's a new environment for Hakuryuu to find himself in, one he most certainly treads carefully on.
But the way Fudou's speaking, it's not out of criticism. It's...praise? Something like that. There's a hint of pride in the man's voice, like when Hakuryuu's training had gone well and God Eden's trainers often spoke him marvel about his power.
But it was different, too. A gentleness that seemed to value the person underneath the power.
He takes another step out from the corner he'd metaphorically hid himself in.]
Close to it. I'm not questioning your ability to keep the ball and kick it properly, but it could be added to.
[Footwork could be one's greatest weakness or a weapon to make use of, depending on how a player honed that ability. Hakuryuu wasn't naturally an abrupt, strength-based player like Gouenji or Tsurugi were, or even he himself could actually be. He had naturally high speed and agility, two talents that got buried under the Sector's focus on resistance-crushing power.
He breathes out through his nose before picking up his chopsticks again to resume eating.]
Quicker, smarter, more controlled. You don't need my help developing hissatsu or controlling your keshin, but I can strengthen your foundations.
[Hakuryuu's silent as he takes in Fudou's words, letting the noodle occupy his mouth instead. It's weird, not being told you're incomplete. That you're not good enough. That if you don't get stronger, more powerful, you're not even worth alive. 'Uncut stone' had such a nice ring to it in comparison.
The real question is...
How does he answer?]
I want to get better.
If you can help me do that, I'll do whatever it takes. If my hissatsu and keshin are already strong enough according to you, then tell me what it takes to become unstoppable.
[There are some things that'll change immediately. Warming up to someone you just met, learning that you're not going to be yelled at for a simple sentence...
[That's it, then. That's all the answer he needs. Fudou lowers his chopsticks from his mouth for one last pause, the blue of his eyes brighter than they've been, the smile confident.]
I can give you a path to follow. I'll guide you. Whatever I can give you, it'll be yours to take and make into yours.
[And here, he leans forward, raising his free hand to extend across the table -- an offered handshake.]
Fudou Akio. Once more, nice to meet you, Hakuryuu.
[And that was it. Before he knew it, Hakuryuu was on a training regiment to become the best he could be. Not the most powerful, or the most ruthless, but truly becoming strong in the core aspects of the sport. Things that people would say he was lacking.]
Show me everything you can.
[That hand reaches forward to meet Fudou's, taking it with all the strength he could (although caution is noticable in its grip) and giving it a nice shake.]
Thank you, Fudou-san.
Whatever you give me, I'll make my own. I won't let you own.
[He can't afford to.]
...Fudou-san.
[His hand falters in that shake, holding it there apprehensively. It looks like there's something that's been on his mind since he got here, his voice faltering at that moment as if his proverbial house of cards would crumble if he spoke it out loud.
In a way, it's not a WRONG mentality, even if it would never apply to the situation. Still, his own self-preservation wins, and he quickly goes back to stuffing his face with noodles.]
[Fudou Akio was never the pushy kind. Not in the way that Endou Mamoru was. He isn't going to drag a response out of Hakuryuu if that's not what he desires, but he watches him with a smile on his face.]
I'll hear out anything you want to say, Hakuryuu. If you want to tell me later, just talk to me.
[But for now, they better finish the noodles before they absorb all the broth. He releases the boy's hand but briefly pats the top of his now-fluffy hair with a gentle touch, pulling back after to go back to his dinner.]
This is your home now, too. Or, well... what I've got here so far.
[Fudou's question causes him to hesitate, mulling over what he wants to say as many times as he can. Truth is, he wants to say so many things, but all of them put him in an extremely vulnerable place. He wanted to give thanks, but he doesn't know how soon that should come. Would now be okay?
Fudou did say this was HIS home, but even now...he's having a hard time believing that. That he's not just staying here until he's put somewhere else. That he can go to bed and not have to sleep with one eye open just in case someone wanted to start a fight.]
It's enough.
[He defends, as if everything he was given just now was some kind of act of mercy.]
... Well, if you feel that way, I guess it's not too bad.
[He really only intended it to be a temporary arrangement, so he hadn't looked hard. Picky was the last thing he was about this apartment choice. Hell, he had almost settled for staying at a hotel and had only changed his mind when he found out nobody knew how long this strange mission would take.
In the end, he's glad that he chose an apartment, even if it turned out to be used for a purpose he never intended on. If it turns out Hakuryuu may need more space, it wouldn't be difficult to find somewhere else. He'd already called the coach...
He nods, a smile on his face.]
Eat up. I'll take you to the store tomorrow so you can help me pick what sort of food you want to eat.
[To Hakuryuu, it was everything he lie awake at night dreaming about. True, God Eden had shifted his entire brain to be wired towards getting stronger, and it was cerrtainly something he worked to be. He was naturally competitive, and a struggle for power made him not only survive, but thrive. But every kid in that situation knew what they were missing--a warm home, loving parents, food made just for them. And not even Hakuryuu could go a night without wondering if there was something out there for him to go back to.
He'd been not entirely right at the time, but not entirely wrong.]
...
What do you like to eat?
[He asks more out of general curiosity. All he's got going for him is udon...]
[There's a pause before he answers, actually thinking on that question while also slurping another mouthful of noodles into his mouth, blue eyes looking at the table between them but also not quite seeing anything.]
... That's a good question. Honestly, I followed a diet the coach of the team I was on gave us while I was there, but I don't actually think about food much.
[Years ago, that would've been a lie. Fuck tomatoes, he would've said. But even he grew to accept their taste.]
I eat pretty much whatever's available, but I don't usually cook for myself and I sure didn't do it while working for the resistance. 'S why we need to go shopping, since I can work with ingredients but I haven't planned a mean in my life.
[He had a feeling Fudou would say that. He seemed like the kind of person who didn't really care what he ate, as long as it was food. Maybe not the best mentality for an athlete, in Hakuryuu's opinion, but it does make the hints of a smile show at the edges of his lips. It's not a conscious move, and if you brought it to his attention it would disappear as quickly as it came, but that smile lingers for a little while longer as he sets his bowl down, completely clean and chopsticks lying across the bowl's opening.
Fudou not having any dislikes makes it easy. He can't mess up if he chooses something.]
I've never cooked, either. So...we'll both be new at that, I guess.
..
[He catches his own warm tone, the low, subtle way his voice suddenly showed affection and attachment to the idea of making a meal with this man. And like a skittish cat, he bounds away from that, offering silently to help clean up the table at the very least.]
I.
I should get to bed. Thank you for the meal, Fudou-san.
[The meal. He was still too scared to thank him for his hospitality. 'Adopted' was too strong a word. It was physical, and that scared him most of all, because putting a word to that suddenly made it tangible. Real.
[Fudou catches that tone, too, and while he doesn't comment on it he lets it be known that it's accepted. He regards him with eyes even warmer than the boy's voice, finishing off his own bowl and gathering up the utensils after a quick, but proper, "Gochisousama." When he gets to his feet, he waits with his body half-turned to Hakuryuu: a gesture to him to follow him to the sink so they can take care of the dishes together.]
There's extra toothbrushes in the cabinet behind the bathroom mirror.
[He catches the body language, bringing his glass and bowl to the sink and tagging along behind Fudou like a lost little duckling. He goes to thank him again, but gets the feeling that repeating any thanks would be redundant, instead opting to nod in acknowledgement and gratitude.
He hopes that message got across, anyway, and that it's not seen as selfishness.]
Fudou-san.
[He puts those dishes in the sink, and immediately looks around for a towel to volunteer his half of the work.]
If there's anything you want me to do around here, I'll do it. Chores, cooking...
[He's not sure if he can get a job yet, but he'd certainly try if it meant he wouldn't be seen as a burden. Even if he already knew exactly what Fudou would say to something like that.
Which might be why he thought it, instead of saying it.]
[Fudou shows him where he could find that towel, tapping his hand against a towel hanger attached to the side of the counter. He's taking the dishes and turning on the faucet to let the water run at the same time, answering to his offer without so much as missing a beat.]
'Course you're gonna, [he says, taking a soapy sponge and quickly cleaning off the inside of their bowls. With udon, the cleaning is easy.] Cleaning, laundry, cooking, taking out the trash, bringing in the mail.
[He hands off the first bowl to Hakuryuu, but he turns his head to look at him, waiting for their eyes to meet again before he grins.]
But that's not to mean you have to do all of it yourself. There's stuff I'll take care of, and stuff I'll ask you to help me out with. Eventually you and I will both get used to things and we'll figure out a system. Sound good?
[To some kids, that list might be long and tedious. And while every kid would probably do it, they don't look at it like the salvation that Hakuryuu does. A boy like him, who'd been so used to getting up at dawn to tear his body apart only to collapse at night from sheer exhaustion...going to chore-less seemed almost like being cooped up in your room for days on end. He'd get stir crazy. So when Fudou lists off all the chores, idly handing him wet dishes to dry off, he has the biggest, most earnest expression.
But the idea that Fudou would be helping him...he has to protest.] You're already housing me and giving me a room. And letting me use your bath and clothes you bought me. Letting me eat your food.
[To him, that seemed like a fair trade off for all the chores. The reason he states it all out loud? Just to make sure Fudou didn't think he'd somehow tricked him into living this life with so much freedom. Confirming that this wasn't just Fudou being too reckless]
You're really okay with that?
I mean...It sounds good to me. But what about you?
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no subject
Midfielder.
It somehow makes sense. He couldn't really see the man as a forward, something about that personality seemed to place him in the center of the field. And he'd been too mobile during the game with Raimon to be a defender like that bearded man and blue haired man he'd seen.
A tactician? He holds his next bite by his mouth, some of the noodles falling out of the chopsticks in thought.]
So you were a playmaker.
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[Honestly, when Fudou thought about it, the term "playmaker" only made him think of one person. Lighter, dreadlocked hair, goggles that were now replaced by sunglasses, wrinkles constantly formed between those brows except in moments of soccer-related delight. A brilliant mind who'd found the light at the end of the tunnel, placed at the side of a man who shone like the sun...]
I'm not sure if I was much of a playmaker as opposed to the guy who jumped in to change the flow of the match when necessary. Breaker, more like.
Every guy has a different role on his team, don't you think?
no subject
So he wasn't a playmaker by his standards, but something of a joker type of player. Interesting.
But one he doesn't remark further on. It's Fudou's next statement that catches his attention more. Every guy has a different role on his team, don't you think?]
Yeah.
I was the team's ace striker. [As if that wasn't obvious by the battle against Raimon, but he felt he should clarify in case Fudou hadn't been looking at the number on his back at the time.]
Just like Tsurugi.
no subject
[He's seen dozens of strikers, handfuls of aces. To this day, the ultimate striker is one he remembers from Inazuma Japan, the man who spun like a fireball and shot the ball with unparalleled power, but years down the line, or perhaps not even, he can see kids like Tsurugi Kyousuke and this one, Hakuryuu, usurping that legend.
He leans back in his seat, not forgetting his food but letting it sit for now.]
Hakuryuu, this is just a suggestion. It's up to you whether you'll accept it or not, but now that you're not on that island, it's up to you what you do next.
Pretty soon, the Sector will be gone. If Raimon wins this Football Frontier, then that'll be the end of it, and soccer will go back to the way it used to be. If you still want to play the sport, and want to see how far you can go with it... then I'll arrange things so that you can keep playing.
no subject
[It comes out almost like a mantra, like some training technique or coping mechanism he'd given himself to not be intimidated by other teams. He'd earned his power.
He breathes out, letting the food he'd inhaled settled before shoving more down. He'd finished about half the bowl, and he can feel the warmth seep into his stomach and the broth warm him where the bath hadn't, healing a little bit of his soul along the way. He notices Fudou do the same, setting his bowl down and leaning back.
And Hakuryuu listens.]
How can you be so sure the Sector'll be gone, just like that? Look how long it took God Eden to go down.
[Granted, God Eden was the source of Fifth Sector's Seeds. Without supersoldiers, it'd be a lot harder to control soccer. But he had a feeling it wouldn't be as easy as cutting a single, poisonous weed.]
no subject
[The answer is given without hesitation, Fudou's voice never losing that even tone, blue eyes as calm as an untouched lake as he meets Hakuryuu's red ones.]
They've been at the forefront of a resistance against Fifth Sector since the start of Holy Road. The semi-finals are next, and should they win, there's a new Holy Emperor who'll disband the Sector as he's appointed.
I'm not the one fighting these battles. The least I can is believe in the ones who are.
no subject
The fire in his eyes softens to a warm glow, trying to hide the small smile growing on his face as he picks up his chopsticks once more.]
Tsurugi will be getting stronger. I can't slack off and let him become better than me. I'm his greatest rival, and I'll show him what my real soccer is.
[Before he goes back to eating, he pauses.]
Can you help me with that?
[Hakuryuu was always one to sacrifice everything for power. He had to on God Eden, where power determined your worth. It's what connected him and Shuu together originally on Zero. But this was different--he was sacrificing for strength, and somehow...that didn't seem like such a sacrifice after all.]
no subject
[Fudou is no Endou, Kidou, or Gouenji. He doesn't like to assume that things will go his way as those three are often wont to do. Endou had a way of moving people, and the other two were too used to following him around. Fudou, on the other hand, had picked up a habit of assuming that things wouldn't often go his way, and of increasing efforts to narrow the margin of error as much as possible.
But right now, in this moment, he feels what might be a fraction of what Endou Mamoru feels. Hakuryuu's response has him relax his shoulders, eyes narrowing with approval, and a small voice in the back of his mind says, "I thought you'd say that."]
If you ask me, you're uncut stone. Your strength and talent is real. Nobody can deny that potential, but you're still rough and jagged around the edges.
I won't make you change your play style, but I'll show you how to refine what you already have. You might be surprised by what some polishing and sharpening might do for you.
no subject
[That's new. In God Eden, there were only two groups you were classified to be--strong, or not strong enough. Hidden potential was just a hurdle that needed to be overcome or face the consequences. It's a new environment for Hakuryuu to find himself in, one he most certainly treads carefully on.
But the way Fudou's speaking, it's not out of criticism. It's...praise? Something like that. There's a hint of pride in the man's voice, like when Hakuryuu's training had gone well and God Eden's trainers often spoke him marvel about his power.
But it was different, too. A gentleness that seemed to value the person underneath the power.
He takes another step out from the corner he'd metaphorically hid himself in.]
You're talking about the basics, aren't you?
[A good place to start.]
no subject
[Footwork could be one's greatest weakness or a weapon to make use of, depending on how a player honed that ability. Hakuryuu wasn't naturally an abrupt, strength-based player like Gouenji or Tsurugi were, or even he himself could actually be. He had naturally high speed and agility, two talents that got buried under the Sector's focus on resistance-crushing power.
He breathes out through his nose before picking up his chopsticks again to resume eating.]
Quicker, smarter, more controlled. You don't need my help developing hissatsu or controlling your keshin, but I can strengthen your foundations.
no subject
The real question is...
How does he answer?]
I want to get better.
If you can help me do that, I'll do whatever it takes. If my hissatsu and keshin are already strong enough according to you, then tell me what it takes to become unstoppable.
[There are some things that'll change immediately. Warming up to someone you just met, learning that you're not going to be yelled at for a simple sentence...
Some things...would take a little more time.]
no subject
[That's it, then. That's all the answer he needs. Fudou lowers his chopsticks from his mouth for one last pause, the blue of his eyes brighter than they've been, the smile confident.]
I can give you a path to follow. I'll guide you. Whatever I can give you, it'll be yours to take and make into yours.
[And here, he leans forward, raising his free hand to extend across the table -- an offered handshake.]
Fudou Akio. Once more, nice to meet you, Hakuryuu.
no subject
Show me everything you can.
[That hand reaches forward to meet Fudou's, taking it with all the strength he could (although caution is noticable in its grip) and giving it a nice shake.]
Thank you, Fudou-san.
Whatever you give me, I'll make my own. I won't let you own.
[He can't afford to.]
...Fudou-san.
[His hand falters in that shake, holding it there apprehensively. It looks like there's something that's been on his mind since he got here, his voice faltering at that moment as if his proverbial house of cards would crumble if he spoke it out loud.
In a way, it's not a WRONG mentality, even if it would never apply to the situation. Still, his own self-preservation wins, and he quickly goes back to stuffing his face with noodles.]
N-Nevermind. It's nothing important.
no subject
[Fudou Akio was never the pushy kind. Not in the way that Endou Mamoru was. He isn't going to drag a response out of Hakuryuu if that's not what he desires, but he watches him with a smile on his face.]
I'll hear out anything you want to say, Hakuryuu. If you want to tell me later, just talk to me.
[But for now, they better finish the noodles before they absorb all the broth. He releases the boy's hand but briefly pats the top of his now-fluffy hair with a gentle touch, pulling back after to go back to his dinner.]
This is your home now, too. Or, well... what I've got here so far.
no subject
Fudou did say this was HIS home, but even now...he's having a hard time believing that. That he's not just staying here until he's put somewhere else. That he can go to bed and not have to sleep with one eye open just in case someone wanted to start a fight.]
It's enough.
[He defends, as if everything he was given just now was some kind of act of mercy.]
You have a really nice apartment, Fudou-san.
no subject
[He really only intended it to be a temporary arrangement, so he hadn't looked hard. Picky was the last thing he was about this apartment choice. Hell, he had almost settled for staying at a hotel and had only changed his mind when he found out nobody knew how long this strange mission would take.
In the end, he's glad that he chose an apartment, even if it turned out to be used for a purpose he never intended on. If it turns out Hakuryuu may need more space, it wouldn't be difficult to find somewhere else. He'd already called the coach...
He nods, a smile on his face.]
Eat up. I'll take you to the store tomorrow so you can help me pick what sort of food you want to eat.
no subject
He'd been not entirely right at the time, but not entirely wrong.]
...
What do you like to eat?
[He asks more out of general curiosity. All he's got going for him is udon...]
no subject
[There's a pause before he answers, actually thinking on that question while also slurping another mouthful of noodles into his mouth, blue eyes looking at the table between them but also not quite seeing anything.]
... That's a good question. Honestly, I followed a diet the coach of the team I was on gave us while I was there, but I don't actually think about food much.
no subject
[Maybe that's the easier of the two questions to ask, holding the bowl closer to get the broth.]
no subject
[Years ago, that would've been a lie. Fuck tomatoes, he would've said. But even he grew to accept their taste.]
I eat pretty much whatever's available, but I don't usually cook for myself and I sure didn't do it while working for the resistance. 'S why we need to go shopping, since I can work with ingredients but I haven't planned a mean in my life.
no subject
Fudou not having any dislikes makes it easy. He can't mess up if he chooses something.]
I've never cooked, either. So...we'll both be new at that, I guess.
..
[He catches his own warm tone, the low, subtle way his voice suddenly showed affection and attachment to the idea of making a meal with this man. And like a skittish cat, he bounds away from that, offering silently to help clean up the table at the very least.]
I.
I should get to bed. Thank you for the meal, Fudou-san.
[The meal. He was still too scared to thank him for his hospitality. 'Adopted' was too strong a word. It was physical, and that scared him most of all, because putting a word to that suddenly made it tangible. Real.
Breakable.]
no subject
[Fudou catches that tone, too, and while he doesn't comment on it he lets it be known that it's accepted. He regards him with eyes even warmer than the boy's voice, finishing off his own bowl and gathering up the utensils after a quick, but proper, "Gochisousama." When he gets to his feet, he waits with his body half-turned to Hakuryuu: a gesture to him to follow him to the sink so they can take care of the dishes together.]
There's extra toothbrushes in the cabinet behind the bathroom mirror.
no subject
He hopes that message got across, anyway, and that it's not seen as selfishness.]
Fudou-san.
[He puts those dishes in the sink, and immediately looks around for a towel to volunteer his half of the work.]
If there's anything you want me to do around here, I'll do it. Chores, cooking...
[He's not sure if he can get a job yet, but he'd certainly try if it meant he wouldn't be seen as a burden. Even if he already knew exactly what Fudou would say to something like that.
Which might be why he thought it, instead of saying it.]
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'Course you're gonna, [he says, taking a soapy sponge and quickly cleaning off the inside of their bowls. With udon, the cleaning is easy.] Cleaning, laundry, cooking, taking out the trash, bringing in the mail.
[He hands off the first bowl to Hakuryuu, but he turns his head to look at him, waiting for their eyes to meet again before he grins.]
But that's not to mean you have to do all of it yourself. There's stuff I'll take care of, and stuff I'll ask you to help me out with. Eventually you and I will both get used to things and we'll figure out a system. Sound good?
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But the idea that Fudou would be helping him...he has to protest.] You're already housing me and giving me a room. And letting me use your bath and clothes you bought me. Letting me eat your food.
[To him, that seemed like a fair trade off for all the chores. The reason he states it all out loud? Just to make sure Fudou didn't think he'd somehow tricked him into living this life with so much freedom. Confirming that this wasn't just Fudou being too reckless]
You're really okay with that?
I mean...It sounds good to me. But what about you?
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