[Velvet can be suffocating, and it has the potential to draw out some sweat, but it's also very soft, just the softest thing around for miles and miles. The quality of Touya's voice, the heat and the texture of it, is something Hikaru so wants to wrap herself up in. It's like being swaddled in layers--and Hikaru has always preferred being hot to being cold--to have Touya making all these declarations and demands in her direction. It's like she wants to start crying all over again as she absorbs every word. If she did cry, maybe Touya would take it upon herself to wipe her tears away, instead of leaving it to the handkerchief. Maybe Touya would scold her for being so distraught over a single game, but it'd feel really good to know Touya doesn't want her to cry. Standing outside the door to her hotel room, Hikaru has to use the inside of her wrist to rub at her eyes, just in case, just in case. She has to stiffen her throat and pay very close attention to how she's speaking, so there's not so much a sad, saddening quaver to her voice.] Yeah, [she says.] You might as well. [And she says it like it's no big deal, like her heart isn't clenching inside her chest, like her mouth isn't the vague and unfulfilled shape of wanting something she doesn't deserve. She's too stupid to be Touya's rival, much less her friend, much less anything more than that. She's the moron here. The complete idiot. Always, always talking about things she doesn't know...
After some one-handed juggling with the fan and handkerchief, Hikaru retrieves a key card from the inner breast pocket of her blazer. Then she's unlocking the door, leading them both inside, and her room doesn't look any different from anybody else's, really. The bed is neatly made--it's neat to the point of being sterile, as if Hikaru didn't sleep in it last night. (She couldn't sleep. She was afraid to fall asleep.) Her backpack is sitting up near the headboard, braced by the pillows. There's a yellow binder positioned beside it, too, already open, revealing a wealth of kifu--Hikaru wants to throw it out the window. She intended to win her game against Korea and come up here to record it, religious in her fervor, but now... The door clicks shut and she exhales shakily, now that they're alone for real. It's gloomy in here. The curtains are mostly drawn, but the sun is bright enough to stain the room and then its occupants a sort of ruddy color. It reminds Hikaru of an old photograph, all washed out and sepia. She feels washed out herself. Like ever since Sai left her behind, all the color in the world has been steadily draining away.]
What if... [She should go and wash the makeup off of her face, but the prospect of letting go of Touya's hand, or stepping out of her line of sight, is an unbearable one, now. How frustrating. Less than ten minutes ago, all she wanted was to run away, as far and as fast as she could...] What if we just lay down for a little bit, and no one would come and bother us, and we could stay like that for a bit. Just a little bit. Just long enough to... [Long enough for today to stop being the fifth of May.] Tomorrow, I'm going to have to deal with it, but right now... I don't want to think about it, Touya. Today was--ahh, a really bad day, to begin with, and then... [Belatedly, Hikaru realizes she's saying a bunch of stuff that probably doesn't matter and Touya always hates it when she says useless stuff like this. Her jaw clenches, then relaxes, and the same thing happens to the muscles of her neck, flexing painfully. Then her head's all weak and falling forward, falling into Touya's shoulder, forehead to well-ironed fabric. It's the only thing keeping her from falling all the way down to the ground.] I don't think I've ever been this tired, [she confesses, then.]
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After some one-handed juggling with the fan and handkerchief, Hikaru retrieves a key card from the inner breast pocket of her blazer. Then she's unlocking the door, leading them both inside, and her room doesn't look any different from anybody else's, really. The bed is neatly made--it's neat to the point of being sterile, as if Hikaru didn't sleep in it last night. (She couldn't sleep. She was afraid to fall asleep.) Her backpack is sitting up near the headboard, braced by the pillows. There's a yellow binder positioned beside it, too, already open, revealing a wealth of kifu--Hikaru wants to throw it out the window. She intended to win her game against Korea and come up here to record it, religious in her fervor, but now... The door clicks shut and she exhales shakily, now that they're alone for real. It's gloomy in here. The curtains are mostly drawn, but the sun is bright enough to stain the room and then its occupants a sort of ruddy color. It reminds Hikaru of an old photograph, all washed out and sepia. She feels washed out herself. Like ever since Sai left her behind, all the color in the world has been steadily draining away.]
What if... [She should go and wash the makeup off of her face, but the prospect of letting go of Touya's hand, or stepping out of her line of sight, is an unbearable one, now. How frustrating. Less than ten minutes ago, all she wanted was to run away, as far and as fast as she could...] What if we just lay down for a little bit, and no one would come and bother us, and we could stay like that for a bit. Just a little bit. Just long enough to... [Long enough for today to stop being the fifth of May.] Tomorrow, I'm going to have to deal with it, but right now... I don't want to think about it, Touya. Today was--ahh, a really bad day, to begin with, and then... [Belatedly, Hikaru realizes she's saying a bunch of stuff that probably doesn't matter and Touya always hates it when she says useless stuff like this. Her jaw clenches, then relaxes, and the same thing happens to the muscles of her neck, flexing painfully. Then her head's all weak and falling forward, falling into Touya's shoulder, forehead to well-ironed fabric. It's the only thing keeping her from falling all the way down to the ground.] I don't think I've ever been this tired, [she confesses, then.]