It was absurd-- everything about this situation was absolutely absurd.
There was no other way whatsoever to describe it, and that made it worse.
Every time he swallowed, it tastes of bitterness. Could there have been a better way to describe it? He wasn't sure and, to be completely honest, couldn't care any less than he already did. There's no point in thinking... pondering on the various technicalities when his very livelihood, once again, was threatened. He knew the feeling well (like an old friend doing a surprise visit, almost... if kira thought of it in any sense of the word, "fond".) that it almost became second nature: that pit, deep and pitch black, within his gut.
On any other day, perhaps, he might've been able to simply ignore the bell's little jingle. To anybody else, it's a humble announcement of one's presence; every worthwhile establishment had one. If not a bell, it was something else in its place-- a heavy door to slam when closing, a makeshift bell attached to its knob, or a polite, little ding any time the door opened and closed... anything was possible.
However, for today, that jingle served as both harbinger and savior.
It was a quick response, given to him to inform him that he was finally safe. He's managed to make it here without even a scratch (thank fucking god.) and, as a hefty bonus, without the scorning, scrutinizing eyes of those he's apparently "wronged". Months upon months of observation beheld unto him, allowing him to infer that certain qualities of people -- if they even qualified as such, considering their cruel, inhumane treatment of him... -- were less likely to congregate in certain places. It's common sense, really.
Despite this rather fortuitous knowledge, there came the rest. There was always going to be some "bad news" paired up with the "good news". Of course there was. There was no way to avoid it. It's common sense, really.
As the door slid to an easy shut behind him, Kira's barely allowed any further grace before a familiar face's approaching. His arms were held, straight rigid, at his sides with his hands halfway through the process of balling up into tight fists. It was an awkward feeling, he couldn't deny, yet he's unable to fully commit to the act. He swallows again; it still tastes bitter... maybe even worse than before. His gaze kept itself low to the floor, peripheral vision the only thing allowing him the "honor" of fully recognizing the girl before him.
"... No," he conceded quietly upon the question, voice nearly croaking its way out from betwixt dry lips. He could hear his heartbeat, almost as if someone had ripped it out of his chest and crushed it against his ear. He wondered... pondered... thought on it... then proceeded to count along to his racing heart. "I'm not here for lunch."
This girl... Reze, as he's come to know her, was eerily perceptive. Was he truly as tense as she claimed? Worse yet, was he as strung out as he felt? God, what a fucking nightmare. It didn't matter. It shouldn't matter. It couldn't matter.
Without further argument, Kira followed after her whilst keeping his head down. Should there have been another option, he might've would've taken it. Alas, there wasn't... just his luck. He reminds himself to breathe (in... and out... it's fine, it's fine, it's fine. it will be fine.) and tries to recall where he last left off in his count. It'll be good to keep in mind for his next trip to the doctor's-- an excellent point of reference.
The least she could do was keep her damn voice down.
Was that so hard to ask? Kira didn't think so, but evidently it was.
"Could... Could you not talk so..." he started, attempting to keep his own voice at a moderate volume before he dared to finally look up, "...loud, please? It's... This is a personal matter."
He, at least, appreciated the attention to the detail; she managed to remember his order. Although, he's willing to state the obvious: it's not hard to remember. As such, he doesn't think it necessary to congratulate her, quietly waiting as he took his seat. He kept his gaze low, unsure if anyone else within the building thought him significant enough to pass over with not a glance but, rather, a second glance. It's too nerve-wracking to think about right now. He reminds himself to breathe, yet again.
"... You're, um..." he murmured with a fleeting look over the materials left behind at the table, not bothering to stare too hard before looking back towards her, "studying, aren't you? I couldn't possibly bother you--" the concern tastes of nothing but teeth, "--if you're in the middle of something already."
