Considering the things he'd been hearing in class, the private investigator thought it might be time to visit, after all he'd found a lull in his busy schedule--a very dull and boring lull. He knocked ob the door, rocking on his heels as he waited, humming softly as he fidgets with the pen in his pocket.--@coldcase-detective
Hibiki cracks open the door, tilting his head as he peers through the gap. He smirks, his eyes oddly dark, something off about his demeanor, something that made the whole situation a little unsettling. "Oh, hey Haru, what's up? Haven't seen you very much lately." The way he hides behind the door is strange, almost childish, like he's trying to keep him from seeing a broken family heirloom scattered on the floor behind him.
@coldcase-detective
"It has been a while hasn't it?" Thats odd, why is he acting that way? His knowledge of Hibiki told him that ordinarily he'd be much more open in his body language than this "Sorry about that, I got pretty busy with my cases. How have you been? People in class have been saying you just stopped showing up." He taps his chin with his finger, his field experience telling him something might be wrong "Everything okay in there?"
He giggles, eyes narrowing, studying him for a moment before reaching out and grabbing him by the collar, tugging him in and slamming the door behind him, latching and locking it, then pressing him up against it. "I haven't seen much of a need to leave, honestly. No need." He bites his lip, leaning in and kissing his neck. His room smells... off. It smells like heat and vanilla from the candles flickering on his desk, but there's something not quite right about it. It's not just that. It's... metallic. Hibiki's arms, his body, his hair smells metallic. Coppery. Bloody. Probably from the trails of it that are dried onto his skin.
"Ah---hahah" he blushes, tilting his head slightly. Why did he suddenly pull him in like that? And the smell---
It hit him like a ton of bricks, it wasn't as if he hadn't smelled blood before "Shiryo are you injured--?" He pulled away slightly, although difficult because of the door behind him "ahaha--" his eyes flicked over as much of him as he could see, searching. Why is he acting like this? What happened? His mind immediately moved to drugs or alcohol and a seed of worry bloomed in his chest, making it tighten "You havent had a reason to leave? What about class..?"
He frowns, shrugging. "No, haven't had much of a reason to leave for class either." He leans in slightly closer, blinking slowly, studying his face, his expression, his movements. The more he pulls away the more he wants to get closer, wants to make Haru push him away, wants to make him hurt him. "I missed class the other day, that uh... that test. In the computing class." The one with Hiro in it. "I needed to pass that test in order to pass the class, and I missed it, which means I failed it. And since I was on a sort of... trial run, they were basically just keeping me on probation, and if I wasn't a perfect student then I would lose my spot. So I did. I lost my spot so there's no reason to keep going. And I have more important things on my mind." He ignores the question entirely, brushing past it as if he hadn't asked it, as if the answer was unimportant, as if it wasn't obvious.
“More important things than school...?” this didn’t seem to be within Hibiki’s character at all, from what he knew of him he’d been serious and dead set on doing well this semester “Something’s wrong right?” That was definitely blood he could smell, and it was getting worse “What’s going on Shiryo?” His tone stayed light and pleasant, ever cool under pressure “You failed a class but that doesn’t mean everything is forfeit you know, you can still try and pass the others...”
His head drifts slowly to the side, like he's simply forgetting to keep it upright. He moves through space like everything is suspended-- floating. Even his voice sounds like its lingering too much. "You talk too much," he mumbles, letting his weight glide forward until he's kissing Haru's jaw, lips cold and numb. "Class isn't worth it for what comes after. More of nothing worth anything. Why bother?"
He fidgeted, tugging away a little again. Hibiki was attractive but he wasn’t exactly in the mood for casual sex especially considering the fact that Hibiki was most certainly bleeding. He laughed, lightly pushing him away by his shoulders, they needed to tend to that, his injuries. Why is he so injured? The room was dark and Hibiki himself was acting suspiciously calm Self inflicted? But why would he do that?
“Shiryo, let’s take a minute and clean you up hm?” Disarm the situation, and him in any case he was armed “You’re bleeding” another pause and “what comes after class? Why wouldn’t performing well be worth it?”
Hibiki leans into Haru, putting his weight on him to keep from falling over. He frowns, rolling his eyes, but staggering backward toward the bed because there was no need to make this a bigger deal than it needed to be. Yet.
"What comes after class? That's exactly it. Nothing. Nothing comes after. Nothing's lined up, things don't just turn around and change. What comes after class is just more nothing. And trying to keep my other grades up isn't worth shit because this one-- this one class ensures that nothing else matters."
“Well that’s a very bleak way of looking at things...” he looked down at himself, noting blood clinging now to his clothes and he frowned “Don’t you want to go to college? Or get a job in your field?” he tilts his head, carefully beginning to creep over to where Hibiki had settled himself ‘Let’s find a first aid kit, keep him talking...he might need help.’
"No," he sighs. "Not really. College isn't worth it. It's just a waste of time and effort and I won't get anything out of it except probably an STD or two." He shrugs, then releases himself, collapsing onto the bed, spreading his arms out to the side. Very clearly now, blood covers his hands and seems to be dripping down from under his t-shirt. "And there is no field for me. Nobody wants what ikebana. It's a dead art. Not even dying, it's dead." He giggles, balling his fists up tight and digging his nails into his palms. "At best I'd be a side show for unappreciative tourists. Nobody thinks it's art, nobody thinks it's anything aside from a novelty. I'm the best at something nobody cares about. Isn't that funny? That's funny." He laughs again. "I think it's funny."















