FLAWED

Syo stops for a moment to set the bag down so he can adjust the mussed shirt and strands of hair askew before a sudden weight and voice hit him like a ton of bricks. “Shit-” is the yelped reaction and he stumbles, catching his balance just barely— keeping himself and Akama both upright. Thankfully. Learn how to warn a guy, would ya?

He gives up on that act pretty quickly though and instead goes back to grinning like always, looking back towards the apartment door that he left open, then behind Syo. "Well, they're not here yet, but." He stops, turning to head back to the room itself before he continues speaking.

Halfway there, he stops again, turning back to face him once more. "Oh right! Do you need help carrying anything?" The way he stands, with one hand on his hip in a lazy sort of pose, and the way he says it pretty much indicate that he's not really going to be help at all, but it can't hurt to ask anyway.

"Ahhh.. As for that, it's unfortunate, but..."

If anyone would ever end up imposing, it would be more likely that Akama would be that person, just because of the way he was. Still, he showed no signs of his "true" personality for now, and instead headed towards the door before he even answered.

So there was a letter in her mailbox…

[1.] Jack and Jill went up the hill

To fetch a pail of water

"Alright, but what do I do with this? It sounds like we gotta go to some water source…what water sources does this city have again?" A-no pulled out her phone to check. The river park, the central fountain and the well? "But which one is right…?"

Leaning over her shoulder just slightly to peer at her phone as she spoke, he settled back onto his feet and moved around to be more in her field of vision.

"Typically, you'd think that wells would suit a hill most, right, roomie?"

Moist cheeks didn’t help, keeping herself from sobbing didn’t help. Especially not in front of other people, that was it more than anything. Everyone was twofaced, dirty and cheap. Even those people that she considered close, considered her friends. Drawing in a deep breath, she’s turning her head to look over at him. Tugging her hand away, and pulling it close to her chest, because not once had she allowed some stranger to have a physical touch to her. 

Seeing a smile on his face, it had her wincing and trying to do it herself. Liars always lie, and just like this obvious fellow, B-ko was quite the traditional liar, only, it only worked on the masses. Not the perspective types, not someone who found words to easily nitpick right at her. It had that mix of boiled rage, and disgust in herself bubbling through her blood. Not only had he decided to make up fibs about C-ta, but rather, he ended up finding a way to burst her bubble. Just how much did he end up finding out about her, through C-ta?

Yeah, that was the best thing that he could come up with, the most precise thing that came to mind. He knew that he "broke in" too often and, sure, he got scolded about it, but he never expected C-ta to actually tell on him to someone else, especially when Akama had been so good at avoiding bumping into one of his roommates for his benefit. They were friends, and friends didn't snitch on friends, not for real, anyway. Right?

Maybe Akama had trusted C-ta too much. in any case, he couldn't give that excuse to B-ko, not when it sounded so petty and awful and weak, not when she was crying and asking serious questions, not when it would give himself away (because even though she didn't know him well, he would know whenever he slipped up. He would remember every single time he could fail and give his act away, which shouldn't have been that big of a deal when faced with a stranger, but he was Akama and his disguise was important to him, it was all he had, so he couldn't do that). 

Instead he closed his eyes for a moment, drawing his hand back to himself before exhaling deeply, his smile returning once more. "I said I was sorry. I didn't know you would get this upset. It's-- it's not some personal attack to you. I don't even know you." 

"I was just playing around." Another lie, but this one actually was instinct. Akama had to come up with a better excuse for what he said, one that didn't actually involve C-ta at all. "I know.. It was mean. Like I said, I shouldn't have, and you should just hate me already if you feel like it. I wouldn't blame you-- all that matters to me is that you know I'm sorry."

That’s as much as Atsuro gets out by the time the other boy meanders over to the kitchen and rummages through C-ta’s fridge like nobody’s business. Unsure of what to do, he sits up, the pillow propping up his legs falling with a dull thwump onto the floor.

Peering at the door, then to the boy’s back, he can’t help but feel as if he wasn’t supposed to be here. He didn’t even introduce himself, did he? And as far as Atsuro knew, C-ta never mentioned getting a new roommate these past few weeks, either. He swings his legs over the edge of the couch and pushes himself to his feet, nervous toes wiggling between the carpet threads. Hopefully this guy wasn’t a serial killer.

Clearing his throat behind a closed fist, he straightens himself up and takes a step towards the kitchen. “So,” he tries again, “are you- um. New around here? Or something?”

An attempt at sounding more confident is made, but it falls short as Atsuro really just… doesn’t have a clue who this guy even is.

He was already digging a knife out of one of the drawers when he saw Atsuro approach and, holding it up casually as he tilted his head up a bit to think, he hummed once, then twice. "Yeah, I am, mostly." Keeping it short and simple was the goal here.

Akama laughed as Atsuro went on to speak again, pretty amused with the whole situation or, rather, how this guy spoke. Grinning, he pointed the knife towards him without thinking much of it. "You haven't seen me around before? Well, were you looking?" Lowering the hand holding the 'weapon,' he proceeded to shrug and go about his business, looking for a plate to place the cake on once he cut it.

"You’re not curious, then? It does seem like something straight of out a fairytale."

Not that C-ta was, either. What little interest he did harbour was reserved for pleasing A-ya’s streak of excitement for these sort of happenings. On the other hand, given Akama had finally moved into the city, he felt that his citizenship was emitting a little bit of pride. He’d come to like Toshi, so he probably couldn’t help wonder what Akama thought of his first taste.

Of course, this didn't stop him from weighing his options. He could think about checking it out, or trying to dig up information from someone else who had, but in the end, it wouldn't really benefit him in a way that he cared about. It might sate his slight curiosity, but it was still only just that: slight, not something big enough to act on.

What was unexpected, was the term ugly, and understanding that it was something C-ta had said about her. She’s always been a self-loathing girl, and she knew how imperfect she was anyway. But, to hear that someone she had grown to find comfort in… .. That C-ta found her ugly. Well, it was leaving her to try to hold back the moisture forming at her eyelids. A thick lump being swallowed back, and she was trying to get a forced laugh out.

Instead of going his way (although really, he should have expected that by now. Nothing ever went Akama's way, not truly, even if it seemed like things did), the situation took a turn for the worst, and he was left feeling dumbfounded. Somewhere along the way, with all of his avoiding certain people and trying so desperately to stick to only himself as of recent, he must have forgotten that other people had feelings, that even though his own were already so overwhelming to deal with, he still had to watch out for how others felt, too.

Oh. 

With that knowledge reinforced, he forced a smile, lifting his hand to grasp at her wrist gently before she could get away-- gently so that she could pull away if she wanted to, gently because he knew that he wouldn't like the feeling of being trapped, either, if he wasn't in a good mood.

As routine as the procedure was, though, the common “break-in” Akama liked to do wasn’t something Atsuro had been faced with before. Well, of course, until right now.

The programmer looks up from the DS he had been tapping on, his voice ready to offer a “welcome back” to C-ta, before the words catch in his throat and squeak out a choked “uh?”

Well. That wasn’t C-ta.

Common sense would tell a person, “Hey, you should probably call the cops” or “Get something to defend yourself with!” but sometimes Atsuro just lacked that little voice inside him. He opens his mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. The two just keep their gazes locked.

After a few uncomfortable seconds, Atsuro says, rather stupidly:

Reminding himself to shut the door behind himself, he paused, pressing his lips together as he calculated what to say. He tilted his head up to look at the ceiling, then turned his face to look at the wall, and then glanced back to Atsuro, stalling to buy time. Once his gaze was finally on the other completely, he shook his head.