#sugimoto

He's to the point where when he stands to leave for his accomodations, he stumbles over his own feet when you catch him by his arm, steadying him to stay upright. You've had a bit to drink, too, but not enough that you're as bad off as he is.

Sugimoto doesn't know if he's looking at an angel or what, but you're the most beautiful thing he's ever seen—the sight of you holding him alone is enough to send him spiraling. His hands grab onto yours, his wide eyes searching desperately for a sign he doesn't know isn't actually there.

He says your name (or, rather, he slurs out your name). He's smiling, and you have to fight the urge to roll your eyes.

"Come on," you say, tugging him along. "You're lucky we have rooms tonight."

Asirpa stays behind with Shiraishi, who isn't too far behind Sugimoto, but she can handle him. She told you so when you hesitated to follow after Sugimoto in the first place.

Sugimoto watches his feet, carefully monitoring each and every step as you guide him up the stairs. You still held onto his arm, all but gripping onto his sleeve.

His foot nearly catches at the last step, your body moving quickly to steady him. One hand still on his arm, the other grabbing onto his shoulder. He looks up at you, cheeks flushed from the alcohol and smile evident on his face.

"Thank you," he says, leaning into your touch with a dopey gaze. "You're too good to me."

This time, you do roll your eyes, and he pouts. You pay no mind, pulling him up the last little bit and guiding him to the last room on the left. You open the door and he pulls away from your grasp, tugging off his coat and stretching his arms wide, outstretched hand nearly hitting you in the face as you walked inside.

"Put those things away," you scold, swatting at his arm to keep it from your face.

He looks back at you, smiling all the while. "You're staying with me?" he asks, perking up as he plops down on the futon in the middle of the room. He gazes up at you, head tilting curiously.

"Do you need me to stay with you? I thought you were sleeping with Shiraishi," you say, picking up his coat which he had dropped on the floor and hanging it from the wooden chair at the small table under the window. You turn to face him, preparing yourself to help him with his boots or with something else, but the man had thrown himself back against the bedding, prone on the futon and eyes already closed. "Sugimoto. Are you serious?"

He keeps his eyes shut, but a sly grin is evident. "You should stay. Shiraishi is too clingy when he drinks."

"Shiraishi is too clingy, huh?"

You make your way to his side, eyeing him for anything dangerous—his weapons were already stowed away, his boots would be uncomfortable but you didn't really want to touch them to begin with. If he was fine with sleeping this way, then so be it. You lower yourself to your knees, grabbing the blanket from under him and managing to bring it over his body in quick succession.

"Sleep, Sugimoto."

He huffs softly, shaking his head. "You're not staying?"

"I'm going to go and find some water and see what kind of teas they have for in the morning," you say. "You're going to wake up with a raging headache, you bozo."

"Bozo?" he echos, eyes shooting open. "I am not a bozo."

"Uh, yes, you are. This better be the last night you and Shiraishi do anything this stupid. There's too much risk without you all being drunk like this." Too much risk to all of you—to Asirpa, specifically. You’d make sure to repeat that in the morning so Sugimoto had no choice but to listen.

He pouts softly. There's something inside of him that knows you're right. He sighs and averts his gaze, pout turning to a frown.

You reach forward, gently brushing his hair out of his eyes.

"I'll be here in the morning. Go to sleep."

He closes his eyes, attempting to settle down and sleep. Before you could leave the room to look, his hand darts to yours and he grabs onto you.

“Wait,” he says. When you stay silent, he continues, peeling one eye open. “It won’t happen again. I… I promise.”