[ Hiyori hears the sound of flushing, followed by running water. That answered his question. He tests the door to his office, and is satisfied to find it locked. He completes the rest of his check. He doesn't see anything immediately out of the ordinary, though a part of him wonders if he should be leaving him alone in any part of his house. He really doesn't want to have a medical emergency on his hands, but nor does he want to have a police investigation. It wouldn't lead to anything, but it was nonetheless a nuisance to have to go through all the formalities.
He accepts it in the end as he completes his check, deciding it to be a bit too invasive to be bothering an invited guest. He was free to use the bath and guest room as he pleased, after all. He leaves well enough alone and returns to his kitchen, removing a keurig out and a coffee pod out of a cabinet, along with a mug. He goes through all the motions of making a cup of coffee, adding far too much cream and sugar to it, putting everything back again, and then he's back into his main room. He sits on the sofa and sips at it slowly, trying wash away the disgusting taste of liquor that's stuck to his tongue. Harai really did have a stronger tolerance than him.
Hm... He wonders why something feels off, though. He can normally pinpoint it easily. He supposes if his guest isn't done by the time he finishes his coffee, he'll see if he can't figure it out. He should be more awake by then. It's the same way he spends most mornings spent here, and it's a variation of how he spends most evenings. He would have to remember to check on Maple when he could; Hiyori avoids stepping into his office while there's company.
But for now, he waits, and uses this time to try and organize his thoughts now that he finally has a moment to. ]
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i mean i'd let him smash me ngl it's a very anatomically correct horny doll so it's fine it's fine
[ Hiyori chugs down his coffee faster than he should. It's gone and the empty mug set in the sink before he knows it, and then he's in the master bathroom scrubbing his teeth and using mouthwash. It's terrible for one's gums by brushing so close to consuming sugars, but he supposes that it doesn't hurt to do so every once in awhile. It would eliminate the sickly sweet scent on his breath, at least. He'd already cleaned up before going into his meeting. But having heard a bit of Komaeda's voice along his way - just enough to recognize the song - he takes a moment to go into his closet.
When he was younger, Hiyori had learned multiple instruments, but only truly focused on two. The piano was learned as was tradition for a genius child from a wealthy family, and the violin was learned for his passion and its elegance. There's a keyboard in the adjacent apartment. He should have one installed here, he thinks, for those times when he feels like playing it. He still practices, ensuring that his fingers can always deftly navigate the keys, but it's not his passion.
Ahh, there's so much that he's lost to his pursuits...
But while his guest is occupied, he takes the violin out and nudges the closet closed before returning to the main room. His fatigue hasn't faded in the least, even with the coffee, so he thinks that perhaps this will wake him up. A bittersweet and romantic song, he thinks, befitting of what he heard, while he whittles away the time and forces himself out of this drowsy, tipsy state.
Ahh, he should just drag that child in. He shouldn't play games of love. He should force him under the knife and under the machines and toy with his brain and his skin and his body and see where the dice land. He would die under his care and be a stepping stone for their pursuits, or he would survive and lead to the salvation of so many others... He would become hope in either case, a happy outcome for both of them...
He settles back down on the couch, thinking of how irrational love is. He'd invited a stranger back to his apartment, given in the wrong key, the wrong address. How irrational he was. How tired. How he wished the drown the world, as in Christian tales, so that it might be reborn as something greater. He could create a world with no Ultimates. How lovely that would be, for how few of them were needed. He'd killed them, and the world had lost nothing, for he had filled each and every gap they'd left. In the end, after a few practice motions, Hiyori settles on a romantic melody, adding just a touch of melancholy to the notes so that he it suits his heart. It's as flawless as everything else that he so chooses to do.
Ahhh... Komaeda preaches so much about hope, and yet, he has no hope and no despair. Would hope not be to kill them all, so that the world might find a happiness of its own?
He wishes he had a piano player with him. This score was so much more beautiful with the accompaniment. Such a shame. Yet, that is ever how it is.
His drowsy limbs and mind are finally starting to awaken themselves, stimulated by the caffeine and movement. Good. He trusts no one, and so he would never trust Komaeda not to mean him ill will. So by now he has no issue with alerting him to his presence, not now that he's confirmed that the threat would come after he's woken himself from his stupor.
[ It's been awhile since he played, and Hiyori is glad to find that the rust hasn't yet settled in. He would need to find time to practice, and to pick up the piano again as well. He sets the instrument down on the table for now, resting the bow next to it. Hiyori rubs his temples, finding that even after all of it he's still tired. It's eased a little, but it's days of fatigue finally catching up with him now that he's taken a moment to settle back in at home. There was no real cure for that than rest, but he couldn't afford that now.
He leans over all the same, folding his arms on the armrest and using them as a makeshift pillow. He keeps his gaze toward the hallway, eyelids lowering despite himself, until the sound of the door opening snaps him back to awareness. He gives it a moment more before pushing himself up with a sigh, allowing himself a small yawn before he wipes away the tired look in his usual practiced manner, letting his hands rest on his lap as he waits. It's strange to hear such sounds. He normally doesn't have anyone over here.
The door closes, and he glances in the direction of the hallway once more. Hiyori realizes too late that he should have taken out the first aid kit as well. It would do him well to redress Komaeda's stitches. He considers going back for it, but after a moment instead decides to continue waiting, allowing his guest relative freedom for the moment... It would be uncomfortable to have a host pounce you immediately after coming out of a bath, after all, and there was a spare bedroom there if he so chose to use that.
So far, so good. What next? ]
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MAJORITY JAILBREAK, WE GONNA GET HIM OUT AND THEN HE CAN RE-KILL MIDORI
[ They are, in fact, Hiyori's clothes. But they're as comfortable as they are expensive, and the pair are close enough in size that they should be comfortable enough for him. Nonetheless, if he's bothered by it, it doesn't show on his face as Komaeda comes out. That gentle smile is already plastered on his face, and it only widens a touch as he's finally noticed by his company.
He offers a soft laugh, waving his hand as though to clear the air of the title offered to him. ]
Ah, no, I am no longer qualified that. Why, I'm certain they've found somebody else to take the mantle by now! [ They haven't, and he knows it. ] I am only Sou Hiyori now, a doctor, who... Hm, who I believe has a patient who I see is once again picking at their stitches?
[ Honestly, there was a reason he'd wrapped that arm up so tightly to begin with... No matter, though. Hiyori lets out a small, tired sigh, but offers no further complaints. He instead places his hands on his thighs now, already starting to stand up. However much may change, he is a doctor first and foremost. ]
It's alright. I can redress it. Let me just get my first aid kit.
[ Really, he should have thought of it before. ]
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we'll just hide the body this time, it's fine, it's fine, nobody will find out
[ It comes out as an exasperated breath, and it's all the more clear that he is tired; he's exhausted and worn down from days and weeks of not caring for himself properly. It wasn't healthy to live off sweet jars and sleep in your office. It wasn't healthy to chug down sickly sweet coffee with extra shots of espresso to prop yourself up through paperwork. None of it was, and anytime he did come back here, Hiyori would collapse quickly. He's surprised there's no indention on the couch for how often he'd passed out on it. But then, even that was brief, and then it was off to something else.
He wants to replace all of the human parts of him quickly, so that he never has to worry about such frivolous matters again. As it is, he shakes his head and offers an apologetic smile to compensate for the harsh tone - one that wasn't harsh at all, and yet, for him was, and speaks in a gentler voice, ]
You know I can't just leave that alone... Come now, must you really destroy everything I do?
[ But he does sit back down, clearly debating whether or not it might not be better to simply ignore him altogether. Even so, he would prefer that any patient be amenable to the treatment they're receiving. Then, as though Hiyori himself was nothing more than an afterthought, he adds - ]
You don't need to worry about me. I'm alright... Ah, if as you say that I truly am the only one befitting of that, then this nothing, hm?
[ Because in the end, Komaeda is right. He truly is the only one befitting of being called the Ultimate Surgeon. There were titles that were passed on like mantles, but his was not one of them. Were they just afraid to fill that role because of him...? No, he thinks it was probably that difficult. They would be all too happy to completely wash away his stain otherwise.
It has nothing to do with being an ultimate. Hiyori can't falter. He can't be tired. Perhaps he should get another cup of coffee. He think she has some instant espresso - perhaps that would fare better. ]
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it's not fucking if it's a doll that he made to replace him js, it's just fucking him
[ That condescending attitude gets a little twitch that it wouldn't normally, and it's not hard to see that he's pushed himself well beyond his limits by now. If he had come straight back, even with that meeting, it might have been tolerable. But it had been one more exhausting social activity that stretched out late, one in which was profitable and therefore he shouldn't be upset at all. But so long as his shell is human, so would be his consciousness.
He keeps his breathing steady, and his smile doesn't falter. That's right. He's Sou Hiyori. He's a patient and loving doctor who can handle even the most difficult cases. No matter how tired, no matter how difficult, he would handle it with ease and precision. Besides, he was on call tonight, which almost certainly meant that sleep beyond an hour or two was little more than a faraway dream. ]
Ahaha, you truly needn't worry... I'm on call tonight, so I'm happy to assist any who need it!
[ That period was sucked up by his latest social outing. He manages to bite back the comment about how Komaeda ever tests his patience, and so he should be able to deal with him as he pleases. It's just barely, though. He's grateful for it. Even so, he can't help the shiver that runs down his spine and the audible gasp when Komaeda whispers in his ear. He barely seemed to register that he was being sneaked up on until it happens, really, and his voice shakes, making it all the more clear that he's past his limits, ]
C-Come now, Komaeda-kun...! You're my guest. I'm just overseeing you for the night. It would be terribly inefficient to try and dress you while you were bathing...
[ Ugh. That did it's job though. His face is flushed, his breath just a touch unsteady - ah, he really is tired, he'd usually hide this better... ]
K-Komaeda-kun, aren't you tired? You've had a far longer day than I have...
[ It's a sensible suggestion even considering his own circumstances, given that his patient had been bleeding out in his office and required a transfusion only hours ago. ]
[ Hiyori would lean forward, but the hand on his chest stops him, and he eases back into the couch instead. His heart races in his chest despite his willing it to steady, chin tilting back so he can look up at Komaeda with tired eyes. It's impossible to miss how worn down he is. His eyelids try to droop and he forces them to keep open, and the smile twitches and falters as he tries to keep it painted on. Even his limbs seem to be little more than added weight to him now. There's a mark on his neck where the bite mark remains, red and bruised. It's the look of somebody who reached their natural limits and kept going.
Power? Yes, he does. He hates being looked down on like this, so takes such care to avoid winding up in a situation as unfortunate situation such as this one. Even so, he can't seem to figure out why it had hit him all at once like this - even compared to most days, it seems as though his body were preparing to collapse whether he liked it or not. But he can't think straight enough to organize those thoughts, much less make a plan, and that situation isn't improving.
He bites back each and every word that comes to mind now, though there's a disapproving frown at the accusation, and his fingers curl as the irritation sinks in. Komaeda licks his lips, which part slightly in an instinctive response, tasting the sweetened coffee that couldn't quite be brushed away, and it seems as though his mind might start to melt from the poisonous combination of want and desire and exhaustion. Hiyori wants to pull him down and kiss him. He wants to put his hands all over him, and he can feel the heat on his face now. Even his words are unfair. He swallows thickly. ]
... Ahaha, I'm sorry, Komaeda-kun. I just can't drink my coffee black. It's far too bitter.
[ He adjusts his position so he can look at Komaeda, suddenly a little light headed. It was nothing he couldn't fix. Hiyori really does hate being looked down on like this, and so he starts to try and stand up again - he could figure out the rest from there. ]
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i mean he is sou hiyori now so that would be fitting
[ It's more blunt than he might normally be, but the words are a perfect match for the rest of him - fatigued, but not keeping any irritation hidden. It's not wrong. The world was a bitter place, without even an ounce of sweetness to it, and that was why he treated the way he did. Hiyori would pour an overabundance sugar and cream into the world to erase that sickly black base, adding color and warping its flavor until its unrecognizable.
He runs his hand through his hair, trying to dismiss those thoughts. He's certain that the night didn't help, but he suspects this is a natural consequence of his actions. Hiyori wonders if he isn't getting sick. It doesn't seem to be a virus, but a natural consequence of pushing so hard for so long. It built up, and eventually one's condition would naturally deteriorate. Perhaps he should take some aspirin to ward off any risk of a fever.
The timing couldn't be worse on this. He shakes his head. ]
Come now, Komaeda-kun, do you really think so little of me? I don't care for the taste of alcohol, and I needed to be able to get myself home...
[ No, he would never let himself be caught in a drunken state, much less driving. He truly is the definition of a social drinker, having only picked it up for business matters and to be able to coax others into consuming far more than he ever did. The more he thinks on it, the more certain he is that he's making himself ill. But he carries on, his steps as light as ever despite the heaviness pressing down on him as he walks toward the kitchen, deciding not to share what's on his mind. ]
Oh, where are my manners? I apologize, Komaeda-kun, I'm not usually such a poor host... Can I get you anything? I have some black tea that I believe would be to your taste.
[ He still needs to get his first aid kit, too. ]
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they really do but then like shin would finally get to be tall
[ Hiyori understands his patient well enough to be increasingly frustrated by his situation. He was a child who was punished for the sin of having fortune and misfortune in equal measure, and one who was looked down upon by those around him. He was a difficult, sickly child who was nearly impossible to get the care that he needed for how often he acted out. It is for this reason that he could comfortably discharge him, knowing that he'd wind up back in his care shortly thereafter. In the end, somebody needed to take responsibility for him, and Hiyori had so chosen to do so.
He's moving for the cabinets, reminded of a parent being tailed by a rowdy child, when he's stopped by the cool yet pleasant sensation of Komaeda's body pressed against his own. For as frustrating as the words are to hear, there is something soothing about the feeling of being leaned upon. He looks down to find his shirt being toyed with. It's a white button up, and so the fresh blood stains show quite nicely on it. He should give a reassuring look now, but his eyes remain fixed on that sight. ]
You know that's not true. I could never hate you, Komaeda-kun. I love you far too much for that.
[ He looks over his shoulder as he says this, offering a weary but reassuring smile to him that's gone by the time his eyes have moved forward again. He tries to take Komaeda's hand with his own in order to get a better look at the damage being done to his stitches. ]
It truly isn't your fault... Hm, perhaps I'm coming down with a bit of a cold?
[ No time for that, though. He would need to fix the stitches again. First aid kit. He'd retrieve it along with the aspirin, and he could work on it while the tea was steeping, or perhaps he should do this first? He still has a few other things he needs to get done, too, and he is on call... ]
Now then, why don't you let me fix you up, Komaeda-kun?
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that's right, he'll be able to reach the top shelf and everything
[ He himself leaning back a little as Komaeda draws him nearer. His hair is still damp, and Hiyori can feel his shirt growing damp in spots.He doesn't mind, though. It's a pleasant sensation, being this close, and how nice it would be to stay this way. How nice it would be to be even closer to him, to feel his skin and run his hands through his hair, to be able to love every inch of him properly. But he also thinks of how much more comfortable his his bed would be, how much nicer the sofa that he slept on more than his actual bed, would be if he had this person with him.
He closes his eyes briefly as he imagines all of those things. Doctors fell in love with their patients. He'd seen it himself, and he knows of the one mentioned now. Perhaps he is, though he would never do anything as crude as defiling a corpse or fancying himself seeing spirits; he wouldn't mind creating an AI in Komaeda's image, a perfect replication of him, one that could stay with him even if the original was lost. But it's not insanity, and it's not what he wishes for now.
He opens his eyes now to allow himself to return to the present, a small shiver running down his spine as he takes in the combination of Komaeda's warm breath against his back and his index finger tracing along his skin that promises more. He can never get enough of him - not of his touch, not of that soft and beautiful voice of his, not of the sight of his empty eyes and messy hair and ghostly white skin. ]
I know, Komaeda-kun. It's important for a person to take care of both their mind and body.
[ Ultimate or otherwise. He searches for the right words, a way to offer some reassurance, but his mind feels like it's melting and his legs are starting to feel wobbly now that he's stopped moving. ]
You don't need to worry about me, Komaeda-kun... I'll be aright.
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can we not find ways to victimize him while he's tall??
[ There's a soft chuckle at the question. Hiyori doesn't believe in souls any more than he does any other supernatural concept, but he believes that taking care of other aspects of oneself should satisfy that need. But he can't even begin to think on that properly, much less respond, not when he's quivering beneath Komaeda's touch. It really has been too long since he had anyone over like this - not since shortly after he started caring for Nagito Komaeda, not since he fell in love with him. Not since he decided that he wanted this one.
He's so close. He's aware of how desperate he is, how pathetic he is, but that doesn't do much to keep the blood from rushing to his head and his breath growing shallow. The way that he tugs at his waistband, that voice that keeps promising more. ]
Ha... Haha... Am I really that poor of a host? I couldn't possibly make a guest care for themselves.
[ That would be the height of shameful, and were it anyone else, he might be offended by the suggestion. There's some part of him that's still dimly aware that he needs to be cautious, that something about this is off, but it's quickly being drowned out. God, there's so many things that he'd rather Komaeda use his hands for... But it would be unsavory at best to say such a thing now. ]
Please, at least allow me to treat you properly, Komaeda-kun. Anything you want... You can just tell me...
[ Then, almost as an afterthought: ]
Oh, but I do enjoy Cardamom.
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that's true....... it's fine it's fine we'll make it happen
[ He's right, of course, and it truly is shameful that it had taken him so long to return. It stings to hear, as somebody who had been been strictly taught how to act as a proper host and took the matter quite seriously. Hiyori had failed as a host, and he was now failing to maintain any sense of composure. It's not getting significantly harder any longer, but there's no relief from it either.
A shudder runs its way down his spine as he feels Komaeda's breath in his ear once more, and the action pulls a gasp out of him. His breaths come out quick and shallow now, heart racing in his chest, and he does start to squirm a little as his earlobe is nipped at. That had always been a sensitive area for him, and he's quickly realizing just how skilled Komaeda is at finding just the right spots and hitting just the right notes. ]
K-Komaeda-kun...
[ Hiyori murmurs his name, whimpering as his waistband is played with. His knees feel as though they might start buckling at any moment, and he chooses to blame that on the ever mounting exhaustion that he feels. It's barely anything at all, and it's already too much, and he doesn't want this to stop here. That warning he had felt is melting away with all other coherent thought, and it takes him a moment to respond. ]
Mmph... [ Had he said want? He had meant need, but there was no taking it back now, and he can't very well refuse. ] If you insist, then... Then I suppose I'll leave it to you... Please excuse me, Komaeda-kun...
[ For being such a poor, shameless host. He struggles with the answer, practically making himself sick in saying it for what a heavy blow to his pride it is. ]
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HE'S SO DISGUSTING, I HATE HIM please kill him quickly
[ Komaeda pulls away, and there's a sudden void that wasn't there before, causing another shiver to run down his spine. It seems as though he were made to fill that space, and Hiyori longs to reach other and pull him close again so that they might continue. But he can't and he doesn't, instead focusing his efforts on taking several deep breaths to steady himself, to try and calm his trembling hands as he turns to the other. He looks back, slightly dewy-eyed, unable to fully mask the disappointment, shaking his head to clear his mind.
When was the last time anyone was able to pull such a reaction out of him? Hiyori can't remember. Perhaps during his teenage years, but even then he can't quite remember.
He manages to calm himself a little, though his head is swimming and he struggles to fish out the right words and reactions for this situation. He swallow as he watches Komaeda lick his lip, inviting him to taste it himself, but that would only lead to him pushing for more... But then, would that really be so bad when he only need to reach out and take it? It would be, of course, because it would be a short term gain at the cost of ending a long term goal.
He reaches out his hand instead, having forced it to steady, and pats Komaeda's head. He strokes his hair for a few seconds, but nothing more. ]
Thank you, Komaeda-kun. [ For his kindness. ] I'm... [ Another small, calming breath. ] Ah, I'm already asking too much of you, so please don't worry about me. I do have an extra room, so you're free to spend the night if you'd like. Help yourself to anything here.
[ He uses the last of his common sense to draw that boundary, knowing that to do anything else would draw issues. It would be enabling the bad behaviors being practiced, and he's grateful that this thought was so deeply ingrained into him. ]
I'll get out of your way now.
[ He forces that gentle smile, apologetic and a little humiliated to have to ask such a thing. But he takes his hand back and turns, padding his way out of the kitchen, thinking that he should have taken a bucket of ice to dump his head in along with him. ]
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GODDD I'M NOT SURE HE CAN COME BACK ANY HORNIER, HE'S ALREADY SOOOO BAD
He accepts it in the end as he completes his check, deciding it to be a bit too invasive to be bothering an invited guest. He was free to use the bath and guest room as he pleased, after all. He leaves well enough alone and returns to his kitchen, removing a keurig out and a coffee pod out of a cabinet, along with a mug. He goes through all the motions of making a cup of coffee, adding far too much cream and sugar to it, putting everything back again, and then he's back into his main room. He sits on the sofa and sips at it slowly, trying wash away the disgusting taste of liquor that's stuck to his tongue. Harai really did have a stronger tolerance than him.
Hm... He wonders why something feels off, though. He can normally pinpoint it easily. He supposes if his guest isn't done by the time he finishes his coffee, he'll see if he can't figure it out. He should be more awake by then. It's the same way he spends most mornings spent here, and it's a variation of how he spends most evenings. He would have to remember to check on Maple when he could; Hiyori avoids stepping into his office while there's company.
But for now, he waits, and uses this time to try and organize his thoughts now that he finally has a moment to. ]
i mean i'd let him smash me ngl it's a very anatomically correct horny doll so it's fine it's fine
When he was younger, Hiyori had learned multiple instruments, but only truly focused on two. The piano was learned as was tradition for a genius child from a wealthy family, and the violin was learned for his passion and its elegance. There's a keyboard in the adjacent apartment. He should have one installed here, he thinks, for those times when he feels like playing it. He still practices, ensuring that his fingers can always deftly navigate the keys, but it's not his passion.
Ahh, there's so much that he's lost to his pursuits...
But while his guest is occupied, he takes the violin out and nudges the closet closed before returning to the main room. His fatigue hasn't faded in the least, even with the coffee, so he thinks that perhaps this will wake him up. A bittersweet and romantic song, he thinks, befitting of what he heard, while he whittles away the time and forces himself out of this drowsy, tipsy state.
Ahh, he should just drag that child in. He shouldn't play games of love. He should force him under the knife and under the machines and toy with his brain and his skin and his body and see where the dice land. He would die under his care and be a stepping stone for their pursuits, or he would survive and lead to the salvation of so many others... He would become hope in either case, a happy outcome for both of them...
He settles back down on the couch, thinking of how irrational love is. He'd invited a stranger back to his apartment, given in the wrong key, the wrong address. How irrational he was. How tired. How he wished the drown the world, as in Christian tales, so that it might be reborn as something greater. He could create a world with no Ultimates. How lovely that would be, for how few of them were needed. He'd killed them, and the world had lost nothing, for he had filled each and every gap they'd left. In the end, after a few practice motions, Hiyori settles on a romantic melody, adding just a touch of melancholy to the notes so that he it suits his heart. It's as flawless as everything else that he so chooses to do.
Ahhh... Komaeda preaches so much about hope, and yet, he has no hope and no despair. Would hope not be to kill them all, so that the world might find a happiness of its own?
He wishes he had a piano player with him. This score was so much more beautiful with the accompaniment. Such a shame. Yet, that is ever how it is.
His drowsy limbs and mind are finally starting to awaken themselves, stimulated by the caffeine and movement. Good. He trusts no one, and so he would never trust Komaeda not to mean him ill will. So by now he has no issue with alerting him to his presence, not now that he's confirmed that the threat would come after he's woken himself from his stupor.
Ahh, how tragic love is... ]
HE'S IN PRISON WE GOTTA BREAK HIM OUT
He leans over all the same, folding his arms on the armrest and using them as a makeshift pillow. He keeps his gaze toward the hallway, eyelids lowering despite himself, until the sound of the door opening snaps him back to awareness. He gives it a moment more before pushing himself up with a sigh, allowing himself a small yawn before he wipes away the tired look in his usual practiced manner, letting his hands rest on his lap as he waits. It's strange to hear such sounds. He normally doesn't have anyone over here.
The door closes, and he glances in the direction of the hallway once more. Hiyori realizes too late that he should have taken out the first aid kit as well. It would do him well to redress Komaeda's stitches. He considers going back for it, but after a moment instead decides to continue waiting, allowing his guest relative freedom for the moment... It would be uncomfortable to have a host pounce you immediately after coming out of a bath, after all, and there was a spare bedroom there if he so chose to use that.
So far, so good. What next? ]
MAJORITY JAILBREAK, WE GONNA GET HIM OUT AND THEN HE CAN RE-KILL MIDORI
He offers a soft laugh, waving his hand as though to clear the air of the title offered to him. ]
Ah, no, I am no longer qualified that. Why, I'm certain they've found somebody else to take the mantle by now! [ They haven't, and he knows it. ] I am only Sou Hiyori now, a doctor, who... Hm, who I believe has a patient who I see is once again picking at their stitches?
[ Honestly, there was a reason he'd wrapped that arm up so tightly to begin with... No matter, though. Hiyori lets out a small, tired sigh, but offers no further complaints. He instead places his hands on his thighs now, already starting to stand up. However much may change, he is a doctor first and foremost. ]
It's alright. I can redress it. Let me just get my first aid kit.
[ Really, he should have thought of it before. ]
we'll just hide the body this time, it's fine, it's fine, nobody will find out
[ It comes out as an exasperated breath, and it's all the more clear that he is tired; he's exhausted and worn down from days and weeks of not caring for himself properly. It wasn't healthy to live off sweet jars and sleep in your office. It wasn't healthy to chug down sickly sweet coffee with extra shots of espresso to prop yourself up through paperwork. None of it was, and anytime he did come back here, Hiyori would collapse quickly. He's surprised there's no indention on the couch for how often he'd passed out on it. But then, even that was brief, and then it was off to something else.
He wants to replace all of the human parts of him quickly, so that he never has to worry about such frivolous matters again. As it is, he shakes his head and offers an apologetic smile to compensate for the harsh tone - one that wasn't harsh at all, and yet, for him was, and speaks in a gentler voice, ]
You know I can't just leave that alone... Come now, must you really destroy everything I do?
[ But he does sit back down, clearly debating whether or not it might not be better to simply ignore him altogether. Even so, he would prefer that any patient be amenable to the treatment they're receiving. Then, as though Hiyori himself was nothing more than an afterthought, he adds - ]
You don't need to worry about me. I'm alright... Ah, if as you say that I truly am the only one befitting of that, then this nothing, hm?
[ Because in the end, Komaeda is right. He truly is the only one befitting of being called the Ultimate Surgeon. There were titles that were passed on like mantles, but his was not one of them. Were they just afraid to fill that role because of him...? No, he thinks it was probably that difficult. They would be all too happy to completely wash away his stain otherwise.
It has nothing to do with being an ultimate. Hiyori can't falter. He can't be tired. Perhaps he should get another cup of coffee. He think she has some instant espresso - perhaps that would fare better. ]
it's not fucking if it's a doll that he made to replace him js, it's just fucking him
He keeps his breathing steady, and his smile doesn't falter. That's right. He's Sou Hiyori. He's a patient and loving doctor who can handle even the most difficult cases. No matter how tired, no matter how difficult, he would handle it with ease and precision. Besides, he was on call tonight, which almost certainly meant that sleep beyond an hour or two was little more than a faraway dream. ]
Ahaha, you truly needn't worry... I'm on call tonight, so I'm happy to assist any who need it!
[ That period was sucked up by his latest social outing. He manages to bite back the comment about how Komaeda ever tests his patience, and so he should be able to deal with him as he pleases. It's just barely, though. He's grateful for it. Even so, he can't help the shiver that runs down his spine and the audible gasp when Komaeda whispers in his ear. He barely seemed to register that he was being sneaked up on until it happens, really, and his voice shakes, making it all the more clear that he's past his limits, ]
C-Come now, Komaeda-kun...! You're my guest. I'm just overseeing you for the night. It would be terribly inefficient to try and dress you while you were bathing...
[ Ugh. That did it's job though. His face is flushed, his breath just a touch unsteady - ah, he really is tired, he'd usually hide this better... ]
K-Komaeda-kun, aren't you tired? You've had a far longer day than I have...
[ It's a sensible suggestion even considering his own circumstances, given that his patient had been bleeding out in his office and required a transfusion only hours ago. ]
that's true that part of him is not needed
Power? Yes, he does. He hates being looked down on like this, so takes such care to avoid winding up in a situation as unfortunate situation such as this one. Even so, he can't seem to figure out why it had hit him all at once like this - even compared to most days, it seems as though his body were preparing to collapse whether he liked it or not. But he can't think straight enough to organize those thoughts, much less make a plan, and that situation isn't improving.
He bites back each and every word that comes to mind now, though there's a disapproving frown at the accusation, and his fingers curl as the irritation sinks in. Komaeda licks his lips, which part slightly in an instinctive response, tasting the sweetened coffee that couldn't quite be brushed away, and it seems as though his mind might start to melt from the poisonous combination of want and desire and exhaustion. Hiyori wants to pull him down and kiss him. He wants to put his hands all over him, and he can feel the heat on his face now. Even his words are unfair. He swallows thickly. ]
... Ahaha, I'm sorry, Komaeda-kun. I just can't drink my coffee black. It's far too bitter.
[ He adjusts his position so he can look at Komaeda, suddenly a little light headed. It was nothing he couldn't fix. Hiyori really does hate being looked down on like this, and so he starts to try and stand up again - he could figure out the rest from there. ]
i mean he is sou hiyori now so that would be fitting
[ It's more blunt than he might normally be, but the words are a perfect match for the rest of him - fatigued, but not keeping any irritation hidden. It's not wrong. The world was a bitter place, without even an ounce of sweetness to it, and that was why he treated the way he did. Hiyori would pour an overabundance sugar and cream into the world to erase that sickly black base, adding color and warping its flavor until its unrecognizable.
He runs his hand through his hair, trying to dismiss those thoughts. He's certain that the night didn't help, but he suspects this is a natural consequence of his actions. Hiyori wonders if he isn't getting sick. It doesn't seem to be a virus, but a natural consequence of pushing so hard for so long. It built up, and eventually one's condition would naturally deteriorate. Perhaps he should take some aspirin to ward off any risk of a fever.
The timing couldn't be worse on this. He shakes his head. ]
Come now, Komaeda-kun, do you really think so little of me? I don't care for the taste of alcohol, and I needed to be able to get myself home...
[ No, he would never let himself be caught in a drunken state, much less driving. He truly is the definition of a social drinker, having only picked it up for business matters and to be able to coax others into consuming far more than he ever did. The more he thinks on it, the more certain he is that he's making himself ill. But he carries on, his steps as light as ever despite the heaviness pressing down on him as he walks toward the kitchen, deciding not to share what's on his mind. ]
Oh, where are my manners? I apologize, Komaeda-kun, I'm not usually such a poor host... Can I get you anything? I have some black tea that I believe would be to your taste.
[ He still needs to get his first aid kit, too. ]
they really do but then like shin would finally get to be tall
He's moving for the cabinets, reminded of a parent being tailed by a rowdy child, when he's stopped by the cool yet pleasant sensation of Komaeda's body pressed against his own. For as frustrating as the words are to hear, there is something soothing about the feeling of being leaned upon. He looks down to find his shirt being toyed with. It's a white button up, and so the fresh blood stains show quite nicely on it. He should give a reassuring look now, but his eyes remain fixed on that sight. ]
You know that's not true. I could never hate you, Komaeda-kun. I love you far too much for that.
[ He looks over his shoulder as he says this, offering a weary but reassuring smile to him that's gone by the time his eyes have moved forward again. He tries to take Komaeda's hand with his own in order to get a better look at the damage being done to his stitches. ]
It truly isn't your fault... Hm, perhaps I'm coming down with a bit of a cold?
[ No time for that, though. He would need to fix the stitches again. First aid kit. He'd retrieve it along with the aspirin, and he could work on it while the tea was steeping, or perhaps he should do this first? He still has a few other things he needs to get done, too, and he is on call... ]
Now then, why don't you let me fix you up, Komaeda-kun?
that's right, he'll be able to reach the top shelf and everything
He closes his eyes briefly as he imagines all of those things. Doctors fell in love with their patients. He'd seen it himself, and he knows of the one mentioned now. Perhaps he is, though he would never do anything as crude as defiling a corpse or fancying himself seeing spirits; he wouldn't mind creating an AI in Komaeda's image, a perfect replication of him, one that could stay with him even if the original was lost. But it's not insanity, and it's not what he wishes for now.
He opens his eyes now to allow himself to return to the present, a small shiver running down his spine as he takes in the combination of Komaeda's warm breath against his back and his index finger tracing along his skin that promises more. He can never get enough of him - not of his touch, not of that soft and beautiful voice of his, not of the sight of his empty eyes and messy hair and ghostly white skin. ]
I know, Komaeda-kun. It's important for a person to take care of both their mind and body.
[ Ultimate or otherwise. He searches for the right words, a way to offer some reassurance, but his mind feels like it's melting and his legs are starting to feel wobbly now that he's stopped moving. ]
You don't need to worry about me, Komaeda-kun... I'll be aright.
can we not find ways to victimize him while he's tall??
[ There's a soft chuckle at the question. Hiyori doesn't believe in souls any more than he does any other supernatural concept, but he believes that taking care of other aspects of oneself should satisfy that need. But he can't even begin to think on that properly, much less respond, not when he's quivering beneath Komaeda's touch. It really has been too long since he had anyone over like this - not since shortly after he started caring for Nagito Komaeda, not since he fell in love with him. Not since he decided that he wanted this one.
He's so close. He's aware of how desperate he is, how pathetic he is, but that doesn't do much to keep the blood from rushing to his head and his breath growing shallow. The way that he tugs at his waistband, that voice that keeps promising more. ]
Ha... Haha... Am I really that poor of a host? I couldn't possibly make a guest care for themselves.
[ That would be the height of shameful, and were it anyone else, he might be offended by the suggestion. There's some part of him that's still dimly aware that he needs to be cautious, that something about this is off, but it's quickly being drowned out. God, there's so many things that he'd rather Komaeda use his hands for... But it would be unsavory at best to say such a thing now. ]
Please, at least allow me to treat you properly, Komaeda-kun. Anything you want... You can just tell me...
[ Then, almost as an afterthought: ]
Oh, but I do enjoy Cardamom.
that's true....... it's fine it's fine we'll make it happen
A shudder runs its way down his spine as he feels Komaeda's breath in his ear once more, and the action pulls a gasp out of him. His breaths come out quick and shallow now, heart racing in his chest, and he does start to squirm a little as his earlobe is nipped at. That had always been a sensitive area for him, and he's quickly realizing just how skilled Komaeda is at finding just the right spots and hitting just the right notes. ]
K-Komaeda-kun...
[ Hiyori murmurs his name, whimpering as his waistband is played with. His knees feel as though they might start buckling at any moment, and he chooses to blame that on the ever mounting exhaustion that he feels. It's barely anything at all, and it's already too much, and he doesn't want this to stop here. That warning he had felt is melting away with all other coherent thought, and it takes him a moment to respond. ]
Mmph... [ Had he said want? He had meant need, but there was no taking it back now, and he can't very well refuse. ] If you insist, then... Then I suppose I'll leave it to you... Please excuse me, Komaeda-kun...
[ For being such a poor, shameless host. He struggles with the answer, practically making himself sick in saying it for what a heavy blow to his pride it is. ]
HE'S SO DISGUSTING, I HATE HIM please kill him quickly
When was the last time anyone was able to pull such a reaction out of him? Hiyori can't remember. Perhaps during his teenage years, but even then he can't quite remember.
He manages to calm himself a little, though his head is swimming and he struggles to fish out the right words and reactions for this situation. He swallow as he watches Komaeda lick his lip, inviting him to taste it himself, but that would only lead to him pushing for more... But then, would that really be so bad when he only need to reach out and take it? It would be, of course, because it would be a short term gain at the cost of ending a long term goal.
He reaches out his hand instead, having forced it to steady, and pats Komaeda's head. He strokes his hair for a few seconds, but nothing more. ]
Thank you, Komaeda-kun. [ For his kindness. ] I'm... [ Another small, calming breath. ] Ah, I'm already asking too much of you, so please don't worry about me. I do have an extra room, so you're free to spend the night if you'd like. Help yourself to anything here.
[ He uses the last of his common sense to draw that boundary, knowing that to do anything else would draw issues. It would be enabling the bad behaviors being practiced, and he's grateful that this thought was so deeply ingrained into him. ]
I'll get out of your way now.
[ He forces that gentle smile, apologetic and a little humiliated to have to ask such a thing. But he takes his hand back and turns, padding his way out of the kitchen, thinking that he should have taken a bucket of ice to dump his head in along with him. ]
OKAY BUT IT'S EXACTLY WHAT HE DESERVES I'M JUST SAYING
he's just begging for attention here, hiyori's neglecting him so he has to
THAT'S BECAUSE HE'S NEVER HOME SO HE DOESN'T DO MUCH GROCERY SHOPPING
PLEASSEEEE can't they just get chinese take out delivered
BUT CHINESE FOOD IS SALTY AS HELL SO IT'S PERFECT okay fine he can do it
IT'S SO CURSED but he doesn't he just gets smth sweet n salty like orange chicken
so it's settled, they'll get the fanciest and most expensive chinese take out in town
it's fine he had coffee and a 15 minute nap, what more could he possibly need
IT'S FINE I'M SURE HE'LL GET PLENTY OF BOTH SOON
I KIND OF AM TOO, THAT'S KIND OF ROUGH, I THINK IT'S BC KOMAEDA RIGGED THE DICE
HE NEEDS SO MUCH HELP??? HE'S HAVING A BAD TIME RN
i mean they did but somebody had to take responsibility for him??? his hands were tied
he'd better, i trust him to make sure that his husband only gets the best care
ohhh komaeda honey... gold heart for your efforts...
it's a really scribbly gold heart but it's there kind of
he'll thank him for giving him the motivation he needs to go full scorched earth it's true
just pump him full of blood and drugs and ivs he'll be fine
it's so insane but you know what sometimes u just gotta get forced to take a vacation
his vacation is just going to be sleeping on the couch but that's okay that's what he needs
he really did... are we sure that komaeda's actual goal here wasn't just to force him to use his pto
he's taken like one day off so probably a lot
he's going to have soooooo much work to do when he gets back i'm crying
he's great at both his jobs, that's why they keep him around, and also his patients love him
NOOO HE'S NOT LOSING ANY PATIENTS... PERMANENTLY...