week two | mingle

[showhost]

Welcome to week two, Teens Who Are Definitely Searching for Love!

Hopefully everyone got a lot of rest over the weekend, and are bright-eyed and bushy-tailed for the upcoming week, because there are a few things of interest this week.

But first, some changes of note in the house!

First: there is a giant rectangular box on the living room table, addressed to Lessing. It is a care package. The only thing in it is his sword.

There is some Bauernbrot bread on the counter. Ask Lessing about that too.

There is now a hot tub near the pool. It’s large enough to seat about six teens comfortably, but you can get more in there if you really try for some reason.

Okay I think that’s everything. Additionally, Tsukasa is here early this week! He’s looking pretty perky, seemingly recovered from the Match Ceremony, and he’s got some interesting info to share with everyone.

Embrace Space | Property Damage, etc | Dates | Mini-Event
Truth Booth Voting | Match Ceremony Submissions

Comments

[hgeegh]

[How he what?]

"How he talks"?

[This is too much at once. He needs to take it one at a time, and he'll choke himself to death on shortbread if he hurts Ritsuka in the process.]

[singurarity]

Like he actually has a pretty solid understanding of you. And likes you for it.

[ Ritsuka is here for all of her friends to be raised up. ]

But you haven't answered me yet, you know.

[hgeegh]

[Despite himself, he flushes and averts his gaze.]

I . . .

[Answer her! Figure something out! Say something!]

[singurarity]

[ It's fine. She'll wait.

I mean, unless this takes an hour. ]

[hgeegh]

[It takes an hour.

That's what it feels like, anyway. He snaps back to Ritsuka after an agonizingly long silence.]

D-does it really matter? We get along fine. [That matters.]

[singurarity]

It matters to me.

[ It's really so nice when she doesn't have to mince her words. ]

[hgeegh]

[Ritsuka used heartfelt appeal! It's super effective!

Sanji hunches in his seat. His shoulders sag and his head bows, hands balling into fists on the counter. His back curls, then curls some more like he's mimicking an armadillo until . . . ]

M . . . [His voice lowers to an airy whisper:] May . . . be.

[singurarity]

[ This is the most tormented "maybe" she has ever seen.

Ritsuka hesitates, then reaches out, cupping one hand over his fist. ]

Is that bad?

[hgeegh]

[Well, now that her hand is on his, he's grea—yes, it's bad! (Still, that doesn't stop his hand from tingling at the contact.)

His head snaps up.]

Of course it is! [He tucks in his chin, sheepish.] Ah . . . not because it's him, but . . .

[ . . . because it's him. That makes sense, right?]

[singurarity]

...? Because it's a guy?

[ We'll figure this out, Sanji. You and your unhelpful words. ]

[hgeegh]

[It's a most tragic sacrifice, but he pulls his fist away from Ritsuka to tangle his hands in his hair around the crown of his head.]

What am I gonna do? I wish I'd gotten the hint. Then I wouldn't have to wonder like this . . . !

[singurarity]

Well, I think even if your hint said you were paired with a lady, you'd still have the initial problem. It's not like people can turn off their feelings, whether they're a match or not.

[hgeegh]

No . . . the match is the problem. If it weren't for that, things would be simpler.

[singurarity]

In what way?

[hgeegh]

[Sanji sinks back into the familiar yet humiliating silence. Maybe this is why he didn't sleep so well the other night. It's a sign that he's thinking too hard about this.

He looses a despairing, aggravated sigh that has nothing to do with Ritsuka and everything to do with himself.]

Nothing . . . I'll figure it out, so don't worry about me . . .

[singurarity]

Sanji. [ With a sigh. ]

Are we or are we not friends?

[hgeegh]

[His eyes tentatively lift to look up at her.]

We are . . . of course.

[singurarity]

So, as your friend, I am allowed to worry about you and I might be able to help you figure it out.

[ So. None of this shouldering it on your own nonsense, that's her shtick. ]

[hgeegh]

[He swallows. After another pause, he looks down and away again.]

. . . It's fine. It doesn't really have anything to do with the show. It won't affect anything, so . . . I'll take care of it. [Then he whispers:] Sorry.

[singurarity]

Does "anything" include you?

[hgeegh]

[Three beats pass.]

Yeah.

[singurarity]

[ Another beat. ]

... And I can't help at all?

[hgeegh]

[This is terrible. He doesn't want her to feel bad or powerless, because the problem isn't her. The shame runs deep enough that he can't bear to look at her.]

. . . It's something even I can't change.

[singurarity]

...

Okay. [ She'll move her hand.

If just to lean affectionately against his side. ]

I get that much. I'm sorry, for pushing it.

[hgeegh]

[He tenses, only because the contact is unexpected, before melting against her and dropping his hands on the counter.]

No . . . Don't apologize. I'm the one who's sorry.