[ Snickering, Kaito takes off once the door closes, plopping onto a chair in the hallway.
As this unreliable narrator was raised around nurses, the inferencing is very detailed. Kaito's heard and seen worse, so he just fiddles with his phone while waiting for the doctor to stumble out.
He's in the middle of catching his fourth Pancham in Pokemon Go when he finally picks up on the fact that she's been running the faucet for a while... Curious, he walks to the bathroom door and knocks twice. ]
[ There's a long, long pause—long enough to absolutely be a cause for concern, until...
The door cracks open. The bathroom light is off. The faucet is still running. The only thing to emerge from the other side is a small, sheepish voice hiding in the cloak of darkness. ]
[ Truly. Kaito was just about ready to barge in when the door opened, awkwardness be damned. Thankfully, neither of them will have to deal with the consequences of those actions, and the chef simply slips a hand into one of his many pockets.
With a firm tug, a warm, fresh-scented black shirt is retrieved. It is undoubtedly several sizes too large for the woman, but that probably isn't going to be of much. concern when the other is covered in puke.
Kaito slips his arm through the gap and dangles the cloth. ]
Here you go. You can leave yours behind if you want. I'll take care of whatever mess remains.
[ There's a point where you have to wonder... if Kaito can miraculously produce clothing out of the seemingly boundless expanse of his pockets, why can't he at least pick something that isn't plain black, for once?
Haruhi isn't in a state to question much of anything, barring her own decisions.
She swipes his offer and slams the door shut. In a few minutes' time, everything seems to be in order when she emerges; her hair is tied into a loose, messy pile at the top of her head while her figure is drowning in the borrowed fabric. You can tell this whole ordeal has sobered her up quite a bit because she is actually pouting.
The look she's giving Kaito toes the line between ashamed and annoyed. ]
[ Hell no. Their Confidant link isn't nearly high enough for him to share his non-monochrome shirts with her.
Not yet, anyway.
Once she's out, Kaito gives Haruhi a single once-over before holding his arm out in case she needs it. Now that she's sobered up, will she notice how his cheeks and the tips of his ears are a rosy hue?
It certainly isn't from blushing at her sensual, shirt-wearing form.. ]
Nice try, Doc. You definitely won the crowd over.
Do you want to go home? I can get you there, or call a cab, or maybe an Uber...
[ Because there's nothing more alluring than vomit and baggy clothes, right?
Ultimately, Haruhi does loop her arm around his. As... sobering... of an experience as this may have been, she's still left feeling worse for wear. Dizzy, even, but definitely not dizzy enough to ignore or refrain from pointing out: ]
Heh~ Lookin' a little red there, chef. End up having too much to drink, after all?
[ She punctuates her teasing with a couple of jabs into his chest using her index finger. If he's going to give her a win, then she might as well take it and fucking run with it. ]
No need for any of that. My place is only a few blocks away. Easy walk.
[ What do you know? Souper Noodle isn't the only thing living in Shibuya's seediest area.
[ She does look cute in his shirt, but he'll die again before admitting it. ]
I dunno, you've got me fairly doubtful that you can make the whole trip, Doc. [ Why does he sound like he's up to something...? While Kaito leads them to the back exit, the jabs to his chest prompt a huff. ]
And for your information, I'm enjoying a very nice buzz while tolerating your ribbing.
[ It's not long before they reach a pair of metal double doors that Kaito pushes open with his foot. Outside is, surprisingly, another Shibuya back alley. At this hour, it's almost completely empty.
Which is perfect, because Kaito chooses this moment to swiftly pivot in front of the good doctor and snatch her legs. That's right, she's being unceremoniously loaded onto his back like a basket of Palian vegetables. The motion is so smooth that it has to be practiced...
Grinning, the empath tosses a glance over his shoulder at Haruhi. ]
[ Death might just be closer than you think, Kaito.
Because the grip she uses to cling to him is bordering lethal. ]
Wh— What the—HEY!
[ The protesting is shortlived. She is really fucking dizzy now. The ground is gone. Her weight is gone. Everything feels gone, except the vice she has around her ride and the onset aura of a wracking headache.
Oh, and the very distinct sense of shame that comes from being hoisted like a basket of vegetables; at this, Haruhi groans into her Uber.
However, that very groan quickly begins to disperse into a fit of giggles.
She's into it. ]
Uhhh, south! Down 88th! Fast, or you're losing your tip.
[ Fast, in your state, is a terrible idea, Haruhi, but whatever. ]
[ On any other night, the wave of nausea rocking Haruhi's senses would feed directly into Kaito, and that might just spell Certain Doom™...
But he is a bit buzzed, and it does dampen his empathy just enough to spare the pair from Disaster.
After adjusting his hold around her thighs, Kaito takes off at a... leisurely pace. There's no way in hell he's going to go fast when the good doctor might lose yesterday's lunch if the turbulence gets bad. ]
Bah, I don't need YOUR tips! [ he declares, barking a laugh. Downtown Shibuya's about as vibrant as ever, even as midnight approaches. The pair get more than a few odd glances, but it's not that strange to see two young idiots getting drunk on a Friday night... Probably. ]
So. [ As they saunter, Kaito sneaks another look over his shoulder. ] Did you have fun in there? You really won the crowd's hearts, y'know that? If only you could drink as well as you posture...
Think I drank more than enough, thankyouverymuch. I dunno what would've happened if I had as much as you, though. [ Her words hem together in a drowsy drawl that's only getting worse as she rambles. ]
You sure do have a weird crowd hanging out there, y'know. Really rowdy and kinda weird lookin'. Like we were at some sorta party—oh, and there was this one woman who was really... really...
[ Haruhi trails off, resting her chin on his shoulder.
It's around this time that Kaito will probably start to notice the slack in her grip, and... ah, faint snoring. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
[ Snickering, Kaito takes off once the door closes, plopping onto a chair in the hallway.
As this unreliable narrator was raised around nurses, the inferencing is very detailed. Kaito's heard and seen worse, so he just fiddles with his phone while waiting for the doctor to stumble out.
He's in the middle of catching his fourth Pancham in Pokemon Go when he finally picks up on the fact that she's been running the faucet for a while... Curious, he walks to the bathroom door and knocks twice. ]
Yo. Everything good in there, Doc?
no subject
The door cracks open. The bathroom light is off. The faucet is still running. The only thing to emerge from the other side is a small, sheepish voice hiding in the cloak of darkness. ]
えー
... D'you have a spare shirt I can borrow...
no subject
[ Truly. Kaito was just about ready to barge in when the door opened, awkwardness be damned. Thankfully, neither of them will have to deal with the consequences of those actions, and the chef simply slips a hand into one of his many pockets.
With a firm tug, a warm, fresh-scented black shirt is retrieved. It is undoubtedly several sizes too large for the woman, but that probably isn't going to be of much. concern when the other is covered in puke.
Kaito slips his arm through the gap and dangles the cloth. ]
Here you go. You can leave yours behind if you want. I'll take care of whatever mess remains.
[ Pros of being a waterbender: cleaning. ]
no subject
Haruhi isn't in a state to question much of anything, barring her own decisions.
She swipes his offer and slams the door shut. In a few minutes' time, everything seems to be in order when she emerges; her hair is tied into a loose, messy pile at the top of her head while her figure is drowning in the borrowed fabric. You can tell this whole ordeal has sobered her up quite a bit because she is actually pouting.
The look she's giving Kaito toes the line between ashamed and annoyed. ]
...You win.
no subject
Not yet, anyway.
Once she's out, Kaito gives Haruhi a single once-over before holding his arm out in case she needs it. Now that she's sobered up, will she notice how his cheeks and the tips of his ears are a rosy hue?
It certainly isn't from blushing at her sensual, shirt-wearing form.. ]
Nice try, Doc. You definitely won the crowd over.
Do you want to go home? I can get you there, or call a cab, or maybe an Uber...
no subject
Ultimately, Haruhi does loop her arm around his. As... sobering... of an experience as this may have been, she's still left feeling worse for wear. Dizzy, even, but definitely not dizzy enough to ignore or refrain from pointing out: ]
Heh~
Lookin' a little red there, chef. End up having too much to drink, after all?
[ She punctuates her teasing with a couple of jabs into his chest using her index finger. If he's going to give her a win, then she might as well take it and fucking run with it. ]
No need for any of that. My place is only a few blocks away.
Easy walk.
[ What do you know? Souper Noodle isn't the only thing living in Shibuya's seediest area.
Next up: Haruhi's shitty apartment. ]
no subject
I dunno, you've got me fairly doubtful that you can make the whole trip, Doc. [ Why does he sound like he's up to something...? While Kaito leads them to the back exit, the jabs to his chest prompt a huff. ]
And for your information, I'm enjoying a very nice buzz while tolerating your ribbing.
[ It's not long before they reach a pair of metal double doors that Kaito pushes open with his foot. Outside is, surprisingly, another Shibuya back alley. At this hour, it's almost completely empty.
Which is perfect, because Kaito chooses this moment to swiftly pivot in front of the good doctor and snatch her legs. That's right, she's being unceremoniously loaded onto his back like a basket of Palian vegetables. The motion is so smooth that it has to be practiced...
Grinning, the empath tosses a glance over his shoulder at Haruhi. ]
Your Uber has arrived. Where are we goin', loser?
no subject
Because the grip she uses to cling to him is bordering lethal. ]
Wh—
What the—HEY!
[ The protesting is shortlived. She is really fucking dizzy now. The ground is gone. Her weight is gone. Everything feels gone, except the vice she has around her ride and the onset aura of a wracking headache.
Oh, and the very distinct sense of shame that comes from being hoisted like a basket of vegetables; at this, Haruhi groans into her Uber.
However, that very groan quickly begins to disperse into a fit of giggles.
She's into it. ]
Uhhh, south! Down 88th!
Fast, or you're losing your tip.
[ Fast, in your state, is a terrible idea, Haruhi, but whatever. ]
no subject
But he is a bit buzzed, and it does dampen his empathy just enough to spare the pair from Disaster.
After adjusting his hold around her thighs, Kaito takes off at a... leisurely pace. There's no way in hell he's going to go fast when the good doctor might lose yesterday's lunch if the turbulence gets bad. ]
Bah, I don't need YOUR tips! [ he declares, barking a laugh. Downtown Shibuya's about as vibrant as ever, even as midnight approaches. The pair get more than a few odd glances, but it's not that strange to see two young idiots getting drunk on a Friday night... Probably. ]
So. [ As they saunter, Kaito sneaks another look over his shoulder. ] Did you have fun in there? You really won the crowd's hearts, y'know that? If only you could drink as well as you posture...
no subject
You sure do have a weird crowd hanging out there, y'know. Really rowdy and kinda weird lookin'. Like we were at some sorta party—oh, and there was this one woman who was really... really...
[ Haruhi trails off, resting her chin on his shoulder.
It's around this time that Kaito will probably start to notice the slack in her grip, and... ah, faint snoring. ]