[Her immediate response is silence. Maybe they missed each other after all, somehow, with the new area open and fewer Champions to populate Tulipa by the day. Or maybe he's going to be as much of a sullen teenager as he usually is about whatever it happens to be he's going through today.
But only a few seconds later, he answers through the door with his familiar refrain.]
I'm f...
[It's like that's all the voice Brook has, only enough for those three letters. The word tails sharply off into a soft, breathy kind of noise, as if he's run out of air or is going hoarse. The quiet continues a couple heartbeats longer before he manages, sounding small, crumpled:]
...fine.
[Inside, Brook huddles on the floor of his luxurious cabin, pressing his back as hard as he can into the corner where two walls meet, bare toes digging into the carpet. His knees are pulled to his chest, his arms wrapped so tightly around himself and fingers clamped so fiercely onto his shoulders, he'd hurt himself, if he were human. One of the pillows from the bed has been so utterly crushed between his limbs and stomach that the middle's practically empty, the stuffing squeezed to both sides.
No one would come. No one would come. He was alone, and there'd be nothing else, just the memory of everything melting away, leaving him with less and less, nothing, just darkness and meaninglessness, forev--
His knee jolts, knocking against the wall, and suddenly nothing's more important than getting to the door and opening it before Ai leaves, nothing's more important than seeing someone, anyone, anything again to prove there's more than nothing. Brook lurches to his feet, tripping over his squashed pillow and the blankets he dragged to the floor, and yanks the door open.
He stands there, face soppy with cold sweat and tears, literally shaking. And there's Ai, like nothing. Nothing happened. Nothing. Happened. Swallowing, he lowers his head, but the hair that tumbles forward to hide his face doesn't mask the raw horror and upset.]
I...
[Or the fact that he opened the door still crying.]
no subject
But only a few seconds later, he answers through the door with his familiar refrain.]
I'm f...
[It's like that's all the voice Brook has, only enough for those three letters. The word tails sharply off into a soft, breathy kind of noise, as if he's run out of air or is going hoarse. The quiet continues a couple heartbeats longer before he manages, sounding small, crumpled:]
...fine.
[Inside, Brook huddles on the floor of his luxurious cabin, pressing his back as hard as he can into the corner where two walls meet, bare toes digging into the carpet. His knees are pulled to his chest, his arms wrapped so tightly around himself and fingers clamped so fiercely onto his shoulders, he'd hurt himself, if he were human. One of the pillows from the bed has been so utterly crushed between his limbs and stomach that the middle's practically empty, the stuffing squeezed to both sides.
No one would come. No one would come. He was alone, and there'd be nothing else, just the memory of everything melting away, leaving him with less and less, nothing, just darkness and meaninglessness, forev--
His knee jolts, knocking against the wall, and suddenly nothing's more important than getting to the door and opening it before Ai leaves, nothing's more important than seeing someone, anyone, anything again to prove there's more than nothing. Brook lurches to his feet, tripping over his squashed pillow and the blankets he dragged to the floor, and yanks the door open.
He stands there, face soppy with cold sweat and tears, literally shaking. And there's Ai, like nothing. Nothing happened. Nothing. Happened. Swallowing, he lowers his head, but the hair that tumbles forward to hide his face doesn't mask the raw horror and upset.]
I...
[Or the fact that he opened the door still crying.]