Nanase Haruka

"Shouldn't you be telling me what I need?" is what he wants to ask, in typical cold and barbed fashion. He wasn't the doctor here after all. Yet he doesn't, he holds back, instead tense shoulders slump slightly, still covered by the blanket in hand.

❝A shirt, if you even have one in my size.❞

Simple, yet it'd go so far in making him more comfortable. Something to close himself off again with, the blanket was nice enough he supposed, but it was more difficult to keep covered.

❝One that covers the arms.❞

At least he still had his gloves, that was a comfort. Squeezing his hand into a fist as if to feel the leather as an anchor.

❝Other than that? I don't know. I'm not a doctor.❞

#[ i feel like they need to meet again to break the ice uwu ]#[ thread; a dark light / with crow ]#[ au; dark crime ]

Cerulean eyes lingered on the other man, tracing every taut line and edge, the tight fists, the sharpness in his voice, the latticework of markings etched across his skin like defiant brushstrokes on a living canvas. A masterpiece of fury and survival.

He said nothing.

Instead, he turned, steps measured and quiet, retreating to a small, tucked-away space where spare clothes lay folded. For a moment, he stood still, fingers grazing fabric before choosing a black, long-sleeved shirt. Extra large, soft and forgiving.

He returned, a hush following him like a shadow. But the silence didn’t bite, weighted instead with a quiet understanding. It carried like someone who’d walked through too many storms to waste words unnecessarily.

“There are many things a doctor might prescribe,” he said, voice low, laced with a kind of dry warmth. “Extended bed rest. Fluids. Heavy anti-inflammatories. Maybe a transfusion or two…”

He lifted the shirt, gathering the fabric gently, poised to help, but hesitated at the cusp. Waiting, wordlessly, for consent.

“…But then again,” he added, the barest hint of a smirk touching his lips, “people don’t usually listen to me.” A faint lift of his brow, just enough to meet the tension with a flicker of irony. “Who am I to tell you what to do, right?”

It didn’t take long before the area was cleared of the magical beasts that had surrounded the two of them when he first arrived at the scene. The awards appeared across his screen as Ye Xiu glanced over them to see which ones he could make good use out of for the sake of the game. It wasn’t his intention to take the said awards from Haru, he only came for the sake of helping out while he was willing to hand some of the awards over. There was a chance he needed some of these awards as well.

This wasn’t the first time that he had come across a random player in the game, he knew that it wasn’t going to be the last either since he tended to play quite often. The name Lord Grim was well known throughout Glory though, especially after he revamped himself because of the issue that appeared on his previous team. The team that Ye Xiu had built by his very own hands with the help of his manager was one that he was proud of. One that he was glad to be apart of, they were Team Happy after all.

Haru’s reaction was a normal occurrence. It wasn’t the first time that he had dealt with an awestruck fan or player.

Ye Xiu figured that he was rendered speechless because of the silence that lingered between them. He wasn’t the only veteran player who existed in the game though since there were plenty who played as long as he did.

“You’re welcome.” He didn’t mind assisting others if they were struggling in the game, he could teach anyone who wanted to play the game. “A thank you is simple enough. Do you need some of these items? I can split the awards between us.”

#[ offerings to a deity uwu ]#[ thread; glorious bonds / with ye xiu ]#[ au; tka ]

✷ The voice crackling back through the mic was smooth, composed, laced with the kind of effortless calm that made it sound like the entire ordeal had been nothing more than a leisurely stroll in the park, or a casual warm-up round before a tournament match. Meanwhile, Haru could still feel the clammy imprint of anxiety clinging to his fingers, his grip on the mouse having bordered on white-knuckled.

To play at that level, it wasn’t just a goal. It was the dream.

The voice shifted into a questioning hum that pulled Haru sharply back to the screen. Cerulean eyes blinked once, caught in a moment’s hesitation before he quickly summoned up his inventory tab.

“I… actually lucked out with the shared experience, to be honest,” he said, voice measured as he scrolled through the list of earlier quest rewards, wondering if anything among them could serve as a proper token of thanks.

“You can keep everything, if it’s useful to you…” His gaze landed on a particular item, the glow of its icon catching his attention. “...Though, I did pick up an orange-tier sword earlier. Could fetch a good price on the market, but maybe you’d like to have it?” As a gift.

The blanket is a quick comfort, his erratic movements and quick breaths calming down as he wraps the fabric around himself. A quick thought of how he was supposed to leave now without being so... exposed passing through his mind, he didn't suppose the other would have a shirt that fit him, but one never knew for sure without asking. Something he would have to get the courage to do when it came time to leave.

Giving a nod of thanks as he briefly uncovers a hand to accept the glass, taking a desperate swig, soothing his throat, before placing it back on the table and tucking his hand back under the blanket. Only two hours, that wasn't bad, just like he had said.

❝Sorry. Thank you, as well, I... didn't think about exposure. I don't do well with it.❞

#[ au; dark crime ]#[ thread; a dark light / with crow ]

There was something unmistakable in the way his patient sat, so wound tight, like a wire stretched too far. Ocean-hued eyes swept over the figure sitting on the bed, watching as the man drained the glass with the desperation of someone clinging to the last vestige of calm. He had, in fact, built a reputation on his quiet discretion, so he wasn't one to pry, but the man before him was carved in stories. Scars like punctuation marks across his skin, each one a sentence left unspoken. Bruises fading like forgotten echoes. A living anthology of secrets.

He had never encountered a client quite like this.

And yet, he resisted the pull of curiosity. He had drawn a personal line in the sand: no questions. Still, the man’s earlier words lingered: I don’t do well with it.

A simple sentence, but heavy with what wasn’t said. It took everything in him not to ask. Why? Since when? What happ—

The questions clustered behind his teeth, aching for release.

He exhaled quietly, the breath almost a sigh, and stepped a little closer. His voice softened, taking on the measured calm of a doctor who had long practiced the art of care.

“What do you need?” he asked, careful not to let the weight of his concern tip the balance. I can tell you want something hovered unspoken in the air between them. Instead, he added, gentler still, "Let me know if there's anything that can.. aid your recovery." Aid your comfort.

These magical beasts could easily cause problems for anyone who wasn’t prepared to deal with them especially if they were a rookie. Or someone who had yet to reach the level to be able to handle them like the situation Haru found himself in, but it wasn’t the first that Ye Xiu had dealt with a rookie. It probably wasn’t going to be the last either, not that he minded assisting others.

He knew that he didn’t have to rely on Haru’s assistance, but it was going to make things easier for him since his presence was going to serve as a distraction. For as long as he was able to last depending on how much mana the man did manage to gain for himself so far.

While the warning was appreciated, these creatures were nothing, but child’s play for Ye Xiu as each movement was filled with intention. It was as if he was taking a simple breath. He wasn’t the type to waste any of the skills that he managed to create with his own two hands from the years that he has been playing the game. He was a veteran like the many others who experienced the game from the moment they started playing. This game was second nature to him after all.

After the last beast fell, the area was quiet once more before he glanced over the awards that were being shown across his screen. A decent amount from the numbers that had surrounded them.

“Hmm...?” A nod was given once he realized that the other was speaking to him “I am.”

#[ thread; glorious bonds / with ye xiu ]#[ au; tka ]

✷ Given how little he’d truly contributed to the defeat of the magical beasts, Haru wasn’t all that surprised when the final clear yielded no loot or rewards in his name. The spoils of war, it seemed, had standards. Still, the generous helping of experience points was a welcome (if slightly tainted) consolation, even though they felt snatched, like crumbs from a feast he hadn't prepared. A flicker of guilt pricked at him, the kind that only comes from rewards not earned.

But his attention was more taken by the fact that a legend had, almost quite literally, fallen out of the sky and into his grasp. In the world of Glory, there wasn’t a soul unfamiliar with that name. The avatar was myth made manifest, and now here he stood, dazzling in battle-worn armor that caught the sun filtering through the forest canopy and flung it back like shards of stardust. It was such a stark contrast to his own Elementalist avatar.

To call Haru awestruck would have been a laughable understatement.

For a long heartbeat, he said nothing, just stared, wordless. The figure before him seemed more dream than digital rendering, as though he belonged in the quest stories carved into the bones of the game.

"I..." am so honoured to be meeting you, was a terrible thing to say, so he opted out of that one as quick as it'd come.

"...am very grateful," was the softly voiced words he offered through the mic, feather-like with a touch of reverence. "For your help. How can I thank you?"

It was a simple movement that allowed him to handle the sudden attack that came from Haru with ease. It wasn’t enough to cause Ye Xiu to flinch knowing that he would easily be able to brush the attack away as if it was mere child’s play. He was someone who was familiar with the game after all.

It was true that he was a veteran. He had been apart of the game since the first time that it appeared. He was a very involved player while there was no harm with the accident move that Haru made.

There was no time to hesitate as Ye Xiu turned his focus to deal with the beasts that stood in front of them. They could speak more once the situation was dealt with knowing that their presence was going to make things difficult. Mainly for Haru. It was obvious that they needed to work on their skillset, something which took time though.

“It can be confusing to navigate this place sometimes.” A small smile graced his lips for a moment as he managed to take out another monster who got a bit too close to him. Not that Ye Xiu was trying to avoid the fight that decided to make an appearance in front of him “That’s fine, I will handle the rest while you focus on support. It will be enough to assist with taking these monsters out.”

#[ such awe! ]#[ i wrote this reply a week ago and accidentally left it in drafts wtf ;w; ]#[ thread; glorious bonds / with ye xiu ]#[ au; tka ]

✷ The knock-back effect from the magical beasts was far stronger than he had anticipated. Being caught in its force only confirmed two things—these creatures were of a higher level than him, and his attacks, though precise, were always a fraction of a second too slow to keep up.

With a sharp flick of his wrist, he narrowly dodged another incoming shockwave, fingers instinctively pressing a rapid sequence of keys to summon another ice wall. Yet, even as the barriers formed, he could feel the weight of time pressing against him—his mana gauge was draining fast.

"Incoming, left!" It was pure instinct, yet Haru's blue eyes widened in astonishment as the avatar effortlessly danced out of harm’s way before his warning could even leave his lips. The other player was extraordinary. Every movement was precise, devoid of hesitation or wasted motion—a clear mark of a seasoned veteran. Watching him was like witnessing a perfectly choreographed performance, a symphony of spells executed with elegance and finesse.

Only when the last of the beasts fell did Haru finally allow himself a breath, his gaze drifting to the stunning avatar before him. A sleek, gleaming umbrella in hand, and a name so well-known it might as well have been legend (it was).

"...You're the Lord Grim?"

That's what he hated the most about being put under, the feeling that no time had passed. Just like a blink of the eye. Except it felt him feeling disorientated, dizzy, and just so thirsty. Slowly opening and blinking his eyes as a hand raised up to rest on his forehead in an effort to try and get the room to stop spinning.

His head turning slightly as he hears a voice call out to him, all but having forgotten the doctor entirely. Gingerly he tries to sit up, pushing the pillow up against the wall in his effort, a soft groan escaping him as he finally leans back.

❝What time is it?❞

A groggy mind finally noticing the lack of covering over his chest, a hand reaching up to cover the sigil over his heart just to notice the chains around his arms were exposed. Anxiety welling up in his heart at the thought of them being seen as if he hadn't been worked on for who knows how long now. Whatever cold and tough exterior he had up breaking away to that of a timid and nervous man scrambling for anything- sheet or blanket- to cover himself.

#[ aw theres something rather sweet about vulnerability tho ]#[ also you left so much to chew on but cant question any of it =u= ahh ]#[ thread; a dark light / with crow ]#[ au; dark crime ]

It took nearly every ounce of restraint for the raven not to reach out and still the other, every fiber of his being resisting the urge to snap a sharp, 'Can you not?' A doctor’s intuition was sometimes a relentless thing, difficult to silence, especially in the dim, unspoken struggles of the underground.

Instead, he let his words die in his throat, allowing only a flicker of frost to settle in the depths of his clear blue eyes. Without a word, he reached for a thick black blanket, its soft folds spilling over his arms like ink on paper. If the subtle, almost unconscious movements of the other man was any indication, then the message was unmistakable. An instinctive urge to conceal himself, to wrap fragility in layers of shadow.

(The body before him was a map of an uncharted world, each contour a story waiting to be read, and to claim indifference would be nothing short of a lie.)

Ignoring the other's movements, he draped the blanket over the exposed form; a shield of warmth, far more reassuring than any words could be. The fabric settled like a quiet promise, offering comfort where conversation failed.

"Exactly two hours and five minutes since we last spoke," he remarked evenly, his voice steady, measured. His gaze never strayed, fixed solely on the man's ashen face. Although, he noted, a touch of colour had begun to creep back into his pallor.

"May I ask that you not move so much? You don't want to reopen the suture. Let the transfusion finish, then you can go." A slight head-tilt towards the thin tube in the inside of his elbow. The request was spoken softly, yet carried an edge of finality that left little room for argument.

Another faint rustle, and with practiced ease, his hand retrieved a glass of water, placing it on the bedside table with a quiet thump.

A silent offering.

Kisumi managed to squirrel all the clutter away before Haru could really take notice of. When it was just you living in a space it was hard not to get used to your own mess and grow less concerned over it.

Kisumi came walking back into the room seeing Haru had already made himself at home there. “Yes, of course I’m going to want rice with that oily fish.” He agreed. “I’ll get out the rice cooker. I can do this part.” He promised and got to work right away.

A lovely teal color was his rice cooker and was one of the only appliances, besides his toaster, that got any real use. Heading over towards the sink he began rinsing the rice before adding the rice and a bit of water together to cook. “Will you have much?” Kisumi had already poured in extra, he could always eat some for breakfast the next morning.

“Can I help with anything else?” He asked unsure how to aid Haru. He was always so independent and looked very capable in his kitchen despite it not being his own.

#[ kisumi really looks extra pretty in your new icons uwu ]#[ thread; misery loves company / with kisumi ]#[ au; canon divergent ]

By the time Kisumi had made his presence known again, the miso soup was already simmering contentedly on the stovetop, its earthy, umami-rich aroma filling the quaint kitchen with a subtle warmth. There was something unexpectedly comforting about the scene, more domestic than Haru was accustomed to. It was remarkable how the simple presence of another person could shift the atmosphere so completely.

At the mention of rice, Haru responded with a small nod, his quiet "No, not much," carrying the weight of routine. His hands moved instinctively as he began preparing the grilled mackerel, each step as familiar as breathing. Yet, the offhand remark about the fish’s oiliness gave him pause. If that was the case… hmm. Perhaps a dash of lemon would strike the right balance. A small concession, but one worth considering. The citrus would cut through the richness, adding another layer to the savory blend.

Clear blue eyes flickered towards shining violet before Haru gave a slight nod. "Could you make the salad?" A simple request, yet he knew Kisumi would set to it without hesitation. There was an earnestness in Kisumi’s willingness to help sometimes that Haru felt added to his plus points.

As the companionship settled into an easy rhythm and the meal gradually came together, Haru decided to venture into small talk. Despite their history, he thought perhaps he truly knew too little about the other. He was glad the Fukuoka tournament had helped bridge some gaps, but even so, there was still much left unspoken.

"...Do you live alone?"

Of course that was the option that would be taken. He wasn't sure why he expected anything else. Why would a doctor let him stay conscious while digging around in his body? Looking at the needle with a defeated expression as he sighs softly, so be it.

❝Fine.❞

It would only be two hours, a small consolation like he had said. It's not as if he had anything to do in that time, no deadline to meet, nothing important, but it didn't help the feeling of wanting to go home. He wanted nothing more to go home and drop on the couch, but if he didn't get that bullet out he might as well just wait to die from blood loss... A true struggle.

❝Do what you will.❞

#[ a handsome guy could live without his shirt once in a while uwu ]#[ thread; a dark light / with crow ]#[ au; dark crime ]

'Do what you will'

For the next two hours, the only sound in the small, hidden clinic was the quiet echo of resignation, bouncing off its walls like a whispered refrain. Wasting no time, he had swiftly sedated the injured man, deciding that action was the best course—both to stem the inevitable blood loss and to spare himself unnecessary complications.

With practiced efficiency, he snipped away the tattered remnants of the man’s ruined shirt and got to work. As he had suspected, a transfusion was unavoidable; too much blood had already been lost. In the end, the process of replenishing what had drained from the man’s body took longer than the removal of the bullet itself—a procedure that had long since become second nature in a place where knife and gunshot wounds were as routine as checkups in a proper clinic. Client aftercare was something he never approached half-heartedly though—sanitation (and perhaps, sometimes, genuine care) was non-negotiable.

He had dimmed the lights to encourage some rest, the gentle glow casting soft shadows across the room. A measured dose of morphine had already been administered, a preemptive relief for the inevitable pain. Waking up without agony, he reasoned, would be a welcome mercy for him.

His blue eyes lingered on the figure lying on the bed, noting the subtle shifts in posture, the faint change in breathing—signs that consciousness was beginning to stir.

"...You awake?" Softer than a whisper of silk.

Simple enough, following behind the doctor silently. Hand loosening on the gauze before returning to its place, a bit unnerved by the amount of blood that had already soaked its way through. Sure, he had seen copious amounts before, but it was never his.

❝No allergies.❞

Answering quietly before doing as ordered and laying down, next came an odd question. The matter of anesthesia. Truthfully he did, the less he had to endure the better, right? But, that came with a matter of trust. He was already trusting that the other man would retrieve the bullet and sew him back up, maybe even give him a transfusion if he needed it. But to be out of it the entire time was... asking a lot from him.

❝If it's needed then it's needed, otherwise I'd prefer to stay conscious.❞

A feat he knew he could do, had done, all thanks to the sigils. The pain that came with wasn't exactly appealing though...

#[ thread; a dark light / with crow ]#[ au; dark crime ]#[ he might wake up shirtless and feeling like new man! ]

The latex glove snapped into place with practiced precision. He turned his gaze to the man on the bed, holding him in a moment of quiet contemplation. There was something about offering a choice that always made him pause. In truth, life would be far simpler without options—without screams, without resistance, without the looming shadow of threats. And yet, he still asked.

"I'm putting you under. It's better for your body."

For you, remained unspoken, yet his tone left little room for debate. The man before him clearly bore deep trust issues, a fact reflected in the guarded glint of those striking eyes. Still, despite the unspoken tension and the weight of unearned authority, it was a risk he was willing to take—given the predicament.

He picked up the needle; a transparent, liquid power.

"If it's any consolation, you'll wake up in two hours." Small comforts, he supposed, but at least, it'll be pain-free. (And bullet-free).

He wants to bite back, say that he knows that, that's why he was holding the rag, but the man was just trying to do his job. His job which would keep him alive. He didn't want to face death just yet. It was only a force of habit anyway, trying to keep people at bay so they didn't bother him. Something he had to work on, and what better time than now?

Offering a silent nod as the gauze is placed against his torso. He was just doing his job, he repeats in his mind over and over as he tries not to recoil from the touch. Sure it hurt, but it was nothing he couldn't deal with, being touched on the other hand? Always felt wrong.

❝I got it.❞

Gently placing his hand over the gauze, trying his best to avoid the other's hand as he does so.

❝What do you want me to do?❞

#[ thread; a dark light / with crow ]#[ au; dark crime ]

While the other man maintained a facade of composure—impressive, considering the bullet lodged in him—Haruka could sense that the chill in the air wasn’t solely from the biting night air or the effects of blood loss. Every word the man uttered carried a frosty edge, as though laced with shards of ice.

Ah. Those types.

With an internal sigh, he nudged the door open with his foot and inclined his head in invitation. "Come in." It was almost astonishing how the man moved with an air of normalcy, as if the injury didn’t exist. Haruka was accustomed to seeing patients stumble in, half-dead and barely clinging to consciousness. But this one was different—intriguing.

Closing the door and locking it behind them, he gestured to another door. "Through here, follow me." Choosing to walk in front rather than behind the other felt like the right call. Perhaps it would ease the stress.

"I have some questions. Do you have allergies?" The back room resembled a doctor’s consultation room, though it carried a more cosy, almost solemn atmosphere. Dim lighting softened the edges, with a few strategically placed lanterns casting a gentle, warm glow that banished any sense of harshness. The space felt almost inviting. Almost.

He gestured towards the lone bed in the room, its surface neatly covered with a crisp disposable sheet. "Lie down. And..." He finally turned clear, ocean blue hues to lock the other's gaze. "...do you want anesthesia? It is, generally, recommended."

How safe do you feel here?

Kisumi snorted at Haru’s always polite behavior. He of course was apologizing even though he had invited himself over. Kisumi would always find his actions amusing as he hurried to continue to clean up his space.

Unlike Haru’s spotless place Kisumi was a bit chaotic.

He usually kept things relatively neat but his brain leap to the next task before finishing the first. Luckily his kitchen was probably the most tidy. Open concept kitchen to the living space. The only thing that separated the two was a large island where stools lined the one side. Kisumi’s head poked up from bending down gathering an armful of clutter, “uhhh… there should be some miso paste in the fridge.” He tried to motion towards it with a tilt of his head. “I’ll be right back!” He announced hurrying off to his bedroom before checking to see if the bathroom was acceptable.

Inside Kisumi’s fridge was the miso. Some prepped meals from his nutritionist, take out containers, drinks and condiments. As for ingredients there wasn’t much besides some fruit, and a few vegetables. Kisumi was very much living that bachelor experience.

Despite hardly ever cooking he had lovely looking cookware. Everything matched and looked decently high end. Yet it looked as if it was brand new, unused.

#[ thread; misery loves company / with kisumi ]#[ au; canon divergent ]#kisumitenderly

The kitchen exuded a tinge of magnificence that Haru wasn't quite used to seeing among their group of friends. As he filled a particularly beautiful saucepan up with water to boil, he couldn't help but eye the cookware with interest. There was definitely something very beautiful about how lonely they looked, as if they yearned to be cherished and brought to life with love.

Haru was in the process of lighting up the stove and could only respond with an off-handed, "okay" to the "I'll be right back". He turned his gaze for a moment, but the other had already darted off elsewhere in the home. What was going on? Entirely bewildered, Haru decided to ignore and retrieve the miso paste from the fridge instead. He located it easily, and while he wasn't one to go through other people's belongings, he picked out a few vegetables to add to a simple side salad.

Shutting the fridge quietly, Haru got back to work. Through the mindless washing and cutting, he wondered about the items in the fridge. Like a puzzle, he was able to sort of work out Kisumi's diet. Not a lot of eastern cuisine, indeed. The first inklings of doubt formed in his mind. How did Kisumi feel about traditional food?

A three-dish meal wasn't hard to cook up and Haru deliberately whipped up the miso soup first so it could serve as an appetizer. The grilled mackerel and side salad were simple enough. The only other thing was... rice.

"Kisumi?" He called out, voice soft enough that it was calming and curious, yet it travelled well, like the scent of heated miso. Inviting. "...I don't suppose you'd want rice?"

It wasn’t Ye Xiu’s intention to scare Haru especially since they were in a forest where the monsters of the game could easily hide. He could understand the reaction that they had while it was unknown what thoughts were running through this player’s head. He could have thought he was an enemy after all or someone that was targeting him.

Ye Xiu wasn’t someone who stole from players though. He had his own reasons for playing.

It was obvious that the familiar reflex to press a button for the sake of the attack occurred, but it was child’s play for him to deal with the situation he had walked into. A player who needed help because of the area that the both of them were in, but Ye Xiu knew that he would be able to handle a situation like this. He was a veteran of the game after all.

The question was a simple one when he spoke through the mic after being able to connect to the player who was on the screen. He was willing to help though.

The beasts were obviously preparing for another attack because of the group that was slowly starting to grow with each one that made an appearance. Beasts that were getting ready to attack him once more. “It’s fine, don’t worry about that.” Ye Xiu turned his attention to the monsters while it was difficult for him to see the issue that Haru was having. The information that told him about these monsters would benefit him while he could obviously handle this alone. Boss fights were easy for him. “This is the first time that I’ve crashed a party like this before. I doubt it would be the last either.” With that though, a few keys were pressed on the keyboard before Ye Xiu started to fight the monsters that stood in front of them.

#[ insanely late but ]#[ happy 2025 and thank you for rping with me this year! ]#[ thread; glorious bonds / with ye xiu ]

✷ The dexterity in the way the other parried his sudden, uncalled-for attack like it was an everyday event was astounding to Haru. He'd never seen another player operate in such a way that discounted all unnecessary movement. There was a sort of hidden beauty to it.

He was a veteran. And from the lightness in the other's tone, almost as if he found humour in being attacked, showed a lot about the skills and experience that must be inhibiting the other.

Not that he had any freedom to dwell on his awe, Haru thought, as his headphones flooded with the sounds of an endless chain of attack spells. He refocused his attention onto the screen and whipped his mouse, bringing his avatar back into action. He positioned FarFished a step behind the fight, right where Elementalist mages ought to be, and quickly casted a piercing lighting spell to support the fight.

...which was quickly negated. Damn the high magic resist of the monsters.

"...I got lost during a quest and ran into these monsters." Haru explained, almost quietly in shame. "The most I can support you here is, probably..." A quick shuffle backwards and another ice wall was brought up to stop two beasts from charging into the other player. "...just these walls. These monsters have too high of magic resistance to make any of my ice and light spells useful."

Not that it stopped him from trying.

Payment first, that made sense but it felt shrewd at the same time. Of course if he was in the other's shoes he'd be doing the same thing, maybe that's how those that hired him felt when he demanded money for simply meeting. Hm. A taste of his own medicine.

❝It's a bullet, I think it's still intact.❞

For all he knew at least, it felt like it was still intact from all his experience. Offering a silent nod as he uses his free hand to dig out his wallet, hoping to not get blood on the expensive leather. A hope quickly dashed as he has to drop the bloodied rag on the ground to get out the money and count it, grateful for once that he had an odd habit of still carrying around large sums of cash- after all who was going to rob him of all people? Holding out a few extra hundred, a tip of sorts, underground doctors were important they deserved more than asked for, not that he'd say so out loud.

#[ happy 2025 and thank you for rping with me this year! ]#[ thread; a dark light / with crow ]

Think it's still intact? A split second of something akin to dread spilled through him as Haruka considered the possibilty of needing to operate on this man. A shattered piece of bullet was difficult, but shattered bones were a headache most didn't factor in payment for.

Cerulean hues watched in silence at the other's movements. It wouldn't be a surprise to see him turn tail or turn aggressive. Perhaps a rare few would try their luck in intimidating doctors to heal them. He'd learnt to be prepared for most situations. Death, after all, was just another adventure lying in wait.

The bloodied rag dropping to the floor brought him back to the scene; a contrast like red petals falling in snow. With his free hand, Haruka took the bills offered. It was more than he'd said. Maybe he'll open a tab for the man, lest he needed a blood transfusion. At the same time, he reflexively reached out to a table off to the side and grabbed some misplaced gauze. Without thinking, he pressed the clean, white material to the other's side, where the wound was already spreading a brilliant dye of red onto the fabric of his clothes.

He was almost apologetic, not one to enjoy offering aid without consent. It didn't do to be too unpredictable in these areas, yet there was a mind to his own reflexes he couldn't control; a doctor's reflexes. He looked into the odd heterochromic hues and offered a quick, quiet explanation, perchances laced with an unspoken apology for the pain. He knew it'd hurt. "The wound needs pressure or you'll bleed out."

Of course Haru didn’t really greet him. Not even a wave. The first thing he managed to say was a critique. “Excuse me? Hello to you too.” Kisumi grumbled a bit as he tried to understand exactly what Haru was telling him.

“Uhhh, no…?” Kisumi cringed as he looked down at his swim trunks. “These are like my basketball shorts.” Therefore they were an item of comfort. “Why do I need to be wearing anything skin tight? I don’t know how you and all the other guys do it. Like isn’t it squeezing all your junk?” He frowned but liking the idea of being in an uncomfortable situation in the first place being squished into a sausage casing of a swim suit.

“I definitely won’t be wearing a speedo!” Kisumi wanted to be clear, “that’s just a recipe for blackmail pictures…”

#[ insanely late but happy 2025 thank you for rping with me! ]#[ ask thread; swimming / kisumi ]

Distinct confusion swam within pools of deep aqua, almost as clear as the reflection of the water's surface just beyond them. Haru was a little unsure of how to respond to Kisumi's irritated greeting, distracted as he was with the other's "swim wear". His logical mindset took the forefront and a social greeting seemed beyond them after all. Well, deep inside, he knew Kisumi knew him.

His attention was drawn back to the argument at hand, which seemed all the more incredulous the more it stretched on. Squeezing all their.. what? It was getting harder and harder to process. And what did he mean by blackmail?!

Haru glanced behind Kisumi and a little to the left. The silence of the centre seemed to echo back against the fresh, clean tiles. He sighed and looked back into stressed violet hues. "It's not meant to squeeze or tightly restrict you, you know. I brought a new pair of jammers, not speedos. You can try it and see if it's too tight for you." He fished into his bag and withdrew the item, packaging and tag still all intact. Haru offered it out and continued his explanation, a little tinge of bewilderment lacing in.

"...You want to learn to swim, don't you? Swim wear is meant to aid that." He was also an athlete after all. "...And, there's no one else here, Kisumi. Who is going to take blackmail pictures of you?"

“Don’t worry about me Haru, I’ll be there!”

—————- When they had agreed to Monday evenings Kisumi figured it would be an easy commitment. Yet when Monday rolled around Kisumi felt a weight on his shoulders and a churning in his stomach. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea?

He showed up regardless of his uncertainty.

He didn’t really have a beach towel so just a normal one from his basketball bag. His swim trunks were baggy fit like they were for basketball. He stuck to things he was used to. What other swim gear had he needed to bring? Today he wore a headband to push his hair back out of his eyes in the hopes that would help.

Kisumi had showed up early as he was waiting around in his slides, tank top and trunks. “C’mon Haru..” he grumbled in the hopes he would appeared if Kisumi willed it. Any longer his nerves might force him to give up and leave.

#[ ask thread; swimming / kisumi ]#kisumitenderly

Monday dawned quicker than Haru had imagined. He eyed the SC with some reservation as he headed into the quiet building, glad that this pool was one of few that allowed private bookings.

He couldn't help the soft sigh that echoed. Letting the glass doors swing shut behind him, he only briefly wondered if Kisumi would show up. The other's persistence had been a touch odd, given all circumstances. But most of all, give their friendship in particular, Haru couldn't help but still wonder why he of all people had been chosen.

Turning a corner and venturing towards the pool area, he finally spotted the familiar stature waiting. It was a tad noticeable too, the waves of anxiety that seemed to be rolling off him.

However, what was more noticeable was the attire. He raised his voice a little and made his way over. "If this is your first time, I highly recommend jammers or aquashorts. The less resistance, the better for you." Well, at least he'd foreseen this and brought along a brand-new pair just in case.

The familiar sound of the mashing keys was a sound that Ye Xiu was used to since he started to play Glory from a young age. It was like second nature to him, but he enjoyed the atmosphere here better. It was a relaxing atmosphere after he managed to start working here.

The cafe often brought a lot of different people whether they were just people who played for fun or someone who was joining the world of Esports. It wasn’t surprising that someone like Haru decided to visit since this place was obviously equipped for playing. This was a good place for players to visit.

It seemed that a player Ye Xiu was unfamiliar with found themselves in a mess because of the beasts that decided to call this forest home even though it was a game. Were they unprepared? Or did they not pay attention to the surroundings that existed in the game while there was a system which told you what possible situations that could make an appearance. This player was in trouble.

Ye Xiu could at least help them get out of this mess knowing that the situation could get worse if FarFished failed to get out in time. Or their character fell to the monsters that existed in this section of the game.

Lending a hand was the least he could do when it came to a struggling player before connecting with him for the sake of speaking easier because of the headphones that rested over his ears already.

“You look lost, need some help?”