destinystrings | So what happened?

Entry tags:

So what happened?

Who: Hinata and Otonashi
Where: Some shady little cafe in Aries
Summary: Hinata is meeting up with Otonashi after the redhead was kidnapped, wanting to know what happened. He's starting to believe Otonashi's theories about the government's corruption...
Warnings: Idiots? Will edit this as needed.

Hinata would get off the tramway in Aries, staring at his watch and starting to make his way toward the coordinates Otonashi sent him. It was awfully late, but they had some time before the 13th hour began. It would be okay if he stopped to chat over coffee, right?

He passed all the ritzy restaurants, walking until they faded into cheap souvenir shops and ramen stands, then kept going until he got to a small cafe tucked out of sight of the main stretch. That must be it! Hinata made a beeline for the door, letting himself in and looking around for red hair.

"Otonashi!" The blunette was relieved, hurrying over to sit with his friend, only to immediately realize something odd about him. "What... are you wearing?"

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He falls quiet and pulls away from Hinata. No words are exchanged, and even if only by his own imagination, he feels aching tension. No regret, no, Otonashi sees a way he can inform and assist someone else and goes for it without question.

But if he could, he would choose now to excuse himself to be alone. It would be comfortable and familiar and any excuse to withdraw for introspection is welcome in times of change or tension or confusion. Having people worry about him long-term -- more than just in passing, or out of politeness or mutual obligation -- is still a little bit alien. Sometimes his relationships with people are easy when he pours himself into them to care for others, but when it comes to any love or concern circling back around, he's flustered and -- again by his own flawed imagination -- convinced he shouldn't take it or, moreover, need it.

"... I like to think my life can have meaning here. So, I--I'd like to protect a few people for that alone. If I can't even do that, what good am I? I would be doing just enough to exist." And the thought of that visibly hurts him. "I can handle it on my own, since it... probably sounds pretty dumb."

Not a second later, his coffee mug is tilted bottom-up in the air as he unabashedly chugs some of it down. Otonashi has the form of a true drinker without the liver damage and promise of miserable hangovers.

Ah... so he wanted to go on patrols to protect those unfortunate enough to be caught out during the 13th hour.

"Eh- that's not dumb..!" Hinata smiled brightly, bringing a hand down on Otonashi's shoulder. "You can count on me!" He garnished this with a wink and a thumbs-up, being intentionally embarrassing to try to get a rise out of the conflicted redhead.

Even if the only thing he could offer as a comfort was his own idiocy, hopefully it would be enough. But for now, he went back to eating his shortcake, scraping the soggy, strawberry-stained cake into his spoon before eating it.

"Hwe can shtart tonigh..!" Hinata, don't talk with your mouth full...

There is a distinct moment where he isn't sure if he wants to stare the goofiness right off Hinata's face, crack an obvious joke at Hinata's expense as an easy-mode route, or even if the thought of humor right then would turn his stomach and cause him to lose his coffee in lieu of his meal.

For a minute, he is unable to look away from the hand on his shoulder. Hinata might as well have grown an extra head, if Otonashi's silence is any indication. Only a moment later, he breaks down -

- in a choked, uncontrollable fit of laughter. It's the kind of laughter that requires a hand in front of his mouth, the kind that would have brought that coffee up through his nose if the timing had been unfortunate. (Thank goodness for small miracles, right?) It's sudden but soft like a rush of wind, but he's just tired enough and just grateful enough that he can't rein it in.

As much as he swore that his life was worth no more than someone else's, as much as he promised that he would die so someone else didn't have to down there, it's something stupid like this that brings cements that gratitude. He's alive. He has the freedom to laugh, yes, partially at Hinata's expense.

And he has the freedom to shove a bloodied hand - too late to realize what he'd done, unfortunately, but he'd apologize profusely later - to cover Hinata's gaping mouth, protecting them from projectile shortcake crumbs. "Chew your food first, that's gross. C'mon... You sure I can count on someone who doesn't even know basic manners?"

Confused by the outburst, the blunette finished his spoonful of cake, ignorant to the fact that some of it had ended up on his face. After a moment of quizzical staring, he smiled, deciding that Otonashi's laughter was more important than his dignity right now.

...He seemed to make this sort of decision a lot.

As a hand came to clamp down over his mouth to prevent him from making more of a display out of his abysmal table manners, the blood and cake intermingled, making a fine mess of both his face and the redhead's hand. Together, they made a proper hot mess. His mouth covered, the rebuttal he came up with amounted to little more than muffled complaining.

A few of the civilians glanced over at the pair, failing to see the humor and trying to ignore it... noisy as they were.

Three.

His laughter starts to finally taper off into more of a soft chuckling -- giggling? -- until it's nothing but soft sighs and attempts to catch his breath.

Two.

When he finally opens his eyes again, he soon realizes there are small, now brownish flecks on Hinata's face. But that shortcake wasn't --

One.

-- oh. That, in fact, is old blood, not part of the cheerfully colored cake Hinata had ordered.

And he's off.

"Ahh, I'm sorry! Excuse me, that was an accident... Heh, let me just--" Cue the redhead grabbing a fresh napkin and hovers over to wipe up the mess that is only partially his fault. Before he does, though, he catches himself.

Those big brother tendencies can easily turn into mothering tendencies if he isn't careful. "Err... do you want to do it instead? I didn't mean to get more dirt on you--" Saying nothing of the ick that Hinata has already accrued himself, mind you.

Hinata tilted his head some in confusion as Otonashi made a mad dash for the napkins, reaching up to wipe some of the frosting off his face... finding that it wasn't just cake anymore.

It begged to question... "O-otonashi... Is this yours?" ...Or someone else's?

He wasn't going to stop Otonashi if he insisted, but he wasn't going to be upset if the other boy deigned not to clean him. He reached over, taking the napkin in question out of the other boy's hand and unceremoniously smearing it across his face. Maybe having help would've been better... since the mess only got worse.

"It's mine. I wouldn't..." He sounds shocked and mildly injured by the mere thought alone.

Despite his run-ins with attacking "Angel," the demons--the concrete adversaries--here, and his friends in a time where he was distinctly not himself, he would never choose to hurt someone.

"I let her do this. They wanted to see blood-- Stop, stop! You're making it worse."

Seeing Hinata's struggle with basic hygiene and table manners (and noticing that a customer is pulling a disgusted frown in Hideki's direction), Otonashi grabs another napkin, licks the end of it, and sets to work cleaning up that increasingly filthy face.

"You got dessert everywhere. Aren't you supposed to be the "popular, mature, and dependable senpai?"" Depending on who you ask, of course.

His expression fell at the tone the redhead used, the pain of guilt in his eyes.

"No, I didn't... think you would, I just..." Just what? Had more hope in Otonashi's self preservation than that?

He wouldn't touch on the subject right now, he could tell his friend was still too on-edge after the whole experience. But he'd let someone do this to him..? What if he'd been killed!? What if she'd been looking out for herself more than she had been!? Hinata clenched his jaw some, trying to bite back the sick worry that threatened to make his cake come back up.

He did manage a small smile at being called senpai, as sarcastic as it was. "I usually wash my face in the sink..!" It was a weak defense, but there it was.

"Do you... want to leave soon?" He glanced at Otonashi's ensemble, wondering if a toga was really good monster hunting gear. "You have your gun, right?"

Maybe he's picking up on the implication. Maybe it's just empathy. Either way, he evens out his tone and shakes his head.

"If we didn't look convincing, they might have just killed us for not cooperating..."

Besides, it isn't a bad injury, he knows. As far as he's concerned, Otonashi had plenty of control over the situation once he knew there was a rescue effort in the works.

"You usually--?! Then-- Do you usually make such a big mess--?" Wait. He holds out his hand.

"Nevermind. I think I know." Again, that gets a small, albeit strained, smile out of him. Hinata: master of melodramatic scenes and failure at table manners.

"Uh, yeah, I have everything. The only thing they took away from me was my clothing..." Which he's rightfully a little grumpy about, but at least he's decent. He can fight well enough, surely. With one last swig of his coffee, he stands and brushes any remaining crumbs off his interesting mess of an ensemble.

"I probably shouldn't do a full patrol tonight, but... I'd like to, maybe another time." Caffeine notwithstanding, he could use a good sleep before delving into a complete 13th hour patrol.

"Ah- No, I didn't mean a full patrol..." He glanced at his watch, checking the time. Sure enough, it had gotten very late. "I didn't think we'd be able to get back to our apartments in time, that's all."

Similarly, he stood, checking his gun to ensure it was loaded adequately before tucking it into his jacket. And not wanting to draw more attention to them than they already had, he went up to the counter to pay. Forgetting that would be bad for both of them...

That done, he met Otonashi at the front door of the Cafe, holding it open for him to go first.

"The tramway is this way... I'm not sure how long it takes for the... monsters... to start spawning, so keep an eye out."

Decency aside, he was never more grateful for the hoodie than now. The chill air nips at his somewhat bare legs, but the sweater keeps him warm enough.

"Yeah, I will. Don't worry about me." He combs through the toga to find his gun and quietly walks on ahead of Hinata. "I can't wait to get this thing off..." It's too long, and there are no pockets, so keeping concealed weapons is somewhat of a careful chore. Theoretically he could shove something in his underwear, but he'd very much rather not have a gun, ammo, or a knife down there.

Any frustration with his current demon-sponsored cosplay crumbles when the sound of creaking and skittering creeps nearby, though not directly on top of them. Exhaustion be damned, Otonashi has his weapon drawn and ready in seconds, waiting for something to appear.

Thankfully, he bites his tongue just before he can make any smartass comments about Otonashi wanting to take off his cosplay. Teasing his already shaken friend about wanting to get naked because maybe he was that way seemed in more poor taste than usual.

Of course, his attentions were soon drawn by the sound of skittering, stopping dead in the middle of the road. His heart pounding in his ears, he tried to determine the source, lavender eyes drifting to a dark alleyway some way down the street. Slowly, a blue carapace caught the light, unveiled to be a scorpion-esque monster about the size of a large dog as it progressed out into the street.

"O-otonashi." Hinata spoke with hushed urgency, not taking his eyes off the monster. He wanted to make sure he had the redhead's attention before doing anything else. "Do you know anything about it?" Weaknesses? Strengths? Things to avoid? Otonashi did more of these late-night patrols, so if either of them would know, it would be him.

Much appreciated, Hinata. Stripping (other than for utilitarian purposes) and sexuality are the last things on his mind.

Catching his first glimpse of the scuttling monster, he tightens his grip on the gun and drops to one knee, meeting the scorpion beast's bright eyes. If a human expression can be read, Otonashi's says nothing short of being absolutely, one-thousand-percent done with the demons in his life right now.

He wants to help. He wants to fight back against them. But with this so soon after being kidnapped and treated like a glorified meatbag, he doesn't hesitate to duck and pull the trigger, trying to fire towards the legs or underbelly. His nerves and pounding heart be damned, he can't allow these demons to do more harm.

"I don't see this one often. Just keep your distance." As for element, weakness, and strengths, though? He has no idea.

His shot grazes the underside and sinks into one of its legs, provoking it to lunge forward, pincers out and ready to snap at the first skin they can find.

Hinata glances over at the redhead, opening his mouth to call out some kind of battle plan... only to see that uncharacteristically pissed look on his face. He's not screwing around, is he... He can't help the grin that tugs across his face, excited that they get to be serious together. He likes having a comrade in arms! Even if... it's much more dangerous now.

"It's blue." No shit, Sherlock. But he is actually trying to make a point, surprisingly. If his excessive knowledge of video games was correct, then... "It might be water or ice. Do you have any fire or lightning?"

Hinata's Persona is Light, so he can't really exploit any weaknesses here... With this in mind, he similarly crouches down, firing rounds where the plates of its blue armor connect. Unfortunately, that's about when it gets pissed off and lunges at them. He tries to quickly scramble to his feet, but the claws bite into his leg.

Thankfully, the cut isn't very deep and could probably be fixed up with some light bandaging, but that's the least of his worries. He's frozen in place, unblinking, unmoving.

"No. All I have is Light," he answers, gritting his teeth in frustration. Another shot pings from the monster's armored claw as it lunges past, digging into Hinata.

"Hinata--!?" His first instinct is to scream at the other boy for not following directions, or to scold him for screwing around in the middle of a fight. When the monster sinks another claw in, this time sans the paralyzing venom, Otonashi quickly realizes it isn't a ploy.

Unwilling to let the monster continue tearing into Hinata--and already feeling a pang of guilt for doubting Hideki in the first place--he throws his own bodyweight into the other boy to knock him out of the scorpion's grasp. If he can glean an extra gun off of the disabled Hinata for the time being, he'll snatch it up and wedge himself between the demon and his ally, slowly backing up into the fallen teenager.

"I'm going to assume you can hear me," he cries, his hands shaking. "H-hold on, okay?!"

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So what happened?

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