[ pluck ] – for the sender to pluck a foreign object ( twig / leaf / etc. ) out of the receiver muses’ hair. | shiwabu 🥺
1 ) multiple times now has shirabu seen kyoichi at the hospital. 2 ) an unfortunate number of times has shirabu seen kyoichi at various dive bars or restaurants nearby —- which feels weird because you’re not supposed to have multiple run-ins with one person when you live in a city. however . . .
fate laughed at shirabu & made it impossible to neglect the presence of kyoichi . . . even though shirabu had the sneaking suspicion that fate was not involved, that the other had the habit of making shirabu’s job harder somehow. he’s not entirely sure how; frankly, he’s fine not knowing. however —the fact that kyoichi is often around shirabu's patients ( as a business deal ? unsure ) is telling in its own . . . weird way.
that being said —- shirabu does not pretend to know kyoichi well; he barely pretends to know kyoichi in any capacity. the kindness is not always returned, but —-
sadly, shirabu can’t say he takes offense.
on some days, he’s just too tired to be concerned by kyoichi’s presence or intentions. on other days —- it’s fun. still other days ? it’s just not a priority concern.
though, that’s not saying much. these days, it’s hard to find priorities in the present. or maybe it’s hard to find priorities in anything that isn’t the present ?
eat, sleep, work. watch television in english, imagine doing research, replay last week's volleyball match of local teams while shirabu cooks & freezes dinner, read & work & read & work & forget to buy groceries because read & work & read & work & wonder if he’s the type to commit himself to medical research or not. there are a lot of questions, a lot of rituals, & a lot of impressions that shirabu knows he gives.
uptight, uppity, closed off —- true. if that lets you sleep better at night. but shirabu is a man that wants ( from himself, from others, from purpose ) — so if success means that he seems a little unpleasant . . . then okay, think of him what you will. shirabu will afford himself the same courtesy, even while he curses himself for wishing he were back inside on a day like this.
cloudless blue skies & a light breeze that feels like peace on the lungs after enduring days of filtered air —- & yet, as shirabu sits on the bench outside the hospital . . . he finds himself moderately uncomfortable as he squints this way & that because, well, outside on a day like this is brighter than what he’s used to.
enjoy the day, shirabu reprimands himself. it had probably been days since he’s enjoyed natural light — which was part of the reason he’s forced himself to eat his lunch outside today. even if it’s messy & too bright, & shirabu is not in the mood for the way that pollen makes him feel like he’s on the verge of sneezing.
he doesn’t sneeze — but he really looks like he’s about to sneeze when he feels something in his hair. fingers light & too damn nimble -- shirabu isn’t sure at first if a bug landed in his hair or if a bird shat on him or what. so he grimaces with a scrunched nose & squints against the sun & knows that this is an ugly moment for shirabu kenjiro. even more so when his hair pulls a little — shirabu starts to protest but . . . he’s interrupted quickly when fingers ( light & too damn nimble ) present what had been stuck in his hair.
a lollipop. there had been a lollipop stuck in his hair. shirabu had treated a two-year-old nearly three hours ago that he faintly remembers having a candy & . . . no one had told him that there was candy stuck on the back of his head?
a loud groan escapes shirabu; he drops his head into one hand before he can process to whom the fingers belong —- but . . . even now ( in this moment of faint embarrassment ), the threat of kyoichi is not the priority. in other words, shirabu can’t find the presence of mind to protest his company.
lazily he gestures to the seat next to him on the bench & offers in deadpan — ‘ if you want a sweet, you’re welcome to keep it. ‘
he’s pretty sure the two-year-old had been infected with strep, but that's beside the point.
‘ thanks, though. you know ? ‘
intimacy of hands | @osonikku