logs | (open) hanging on in quiet desperation

(having previously been involved in several mistletoe incidents, jonas is tired; however, after being forced to kiss a woman with a howling baby, an old man who wouldn't make eye contact with him, and someone he'd rather not discuss at all, getting caught up with an acquaintance or someone who shares a mutual friend is a relief.

it is so great a relief, in fact, that he takes one look at the person trapped with him and exclaims:)

Yes.

(jonas, usually the king of feeling awkward, doesn't seem to realize that he's just verbally fist-pumped, and he continues casually as though unaffected. maybe it's the confidence boost from getting rid of his horrible blood stench, or excitement from seeing someone attractive for a change. maybe the reality of the situation hasn't kicked in yet—that's for future jonas to contend with.

present jonas' hand runs down the length of his face, and as it comes away, his eyes raise to the sky in a pronounced roll.)

Oh, thank god. You don't know what I've been through to get here. Please tell me you've been spared some stranger "accidentally" slipping you some tongue.

[ oh, this is the least anxiety-inducing of all the run-ins she's had. it's better to be stuck with a stranger than it is with any of her lifelines, but it's definitely better to be stuck with Jonas than any stranger. well—maybe she wouldn't call it "better" as such. easier, though. ]

No, I— [ she'd started to answer without actually registering what he said, and when it clicks, she yelps: ] Has that happened to you, Jonas?!

[ she understands wanting to avoid the curses, she's debased herself plenty for the sake of that, but HELLO??? ]

I've just been taking the curses when it's someone that isn't... you know, part of our group.

(ik girl, he's made some choices here he's not proud of, but:)

Um, the last time I got cursed, I had to become a hermit for half a month. (bad times were had by all, but he doesn't mind now that it's over. he simply rubs the back of his neck and tells her like it is.) I'm not messing with this grab-bag of random bullcrap.

Anyway, I'm not too pressed... this guy got "signals" from me or something and totally just went all in. I literally went and bought gum afterward. (and when you smoke heavily, it's better to seek some balance. with all this mistletoe hanging everywhere, jonas would rather smell and taste like spearmint when kissed than force others to deal with the hotly debated flavours of tobacco and nicotine.

a stick of it is offered out to her, leaning a little to give ruby a very curious once-over. she's still as effortlessly pretty as she was when she was elbow-deep in pumpkin guts. man, is everyone here a ten?)

... Wait, what kinds of curses have you been getting? Don't get me wrong, I'm super glad you've got standards, but that sounds crazy.

[ the offer of gum is turned down, Ruby holding up a hand with a smile—instead, she digs through a pouch at her hip and comes up with a hard mint candy. she winks, and there's a short giggle, sweet and melodic, before she pops it into her mouth. with the mint under her tongue, she speaks around it: ]

Um... I swapped voices with Hibiki for a day; there was a while where everything tasted like ash; I've had my things go missing, and my breath came out as black smoke instead of mist, and I got really, really, really cold...

[ sure, it's been bad enough for her to grind her dignity under heel and kiss just about everybody she knows by now. but at the same time, she's suffered much worse from far more mundane sources. she already knows she can endure. between a rock and a hard place, she'll still choose one or the other.

speaking of her dignity and lack thereof: she puts her hands to her cheeks, a rosy blush colouring her face already tinged pink by the cold. ]

B-But, I mean, it isn't easy for me to just... k-kiss people like that! I thought it would only ever be with my husband! I even had to give my first away...

(ruby still seems to be in good spirits despite being put through all of that. it takes a strong will to not get bogged down by it all, and jonas, who was feeling particularly morose until spotting her, straightens at the wink with a little smile.

the gum is slipped into his pocket, already forgotten.)

You've had it pretty rough, then... I should take a page out of your book and just do what makes me comfortable instead of trying to force it. It hasn't been that bad, but it hasn't been good either.

(kissing. intimacy. shying away from that has never been "jonas," and now he wonders if he's been acting like a yes-man recently. it's of some concern to him, however, that ruby's had to go against her beliefs to obey this place, and it takes most of his attention; her world is another he's unable to understand. that doesn't mean he wouldn't like to.

he gestures between them.)

I'm sorry things have been so backward. This place sucks, but—well, we can kiss real quick or take the curse option, especially if that's something you'd prefer. We can... get glitter dandruff or, like... have our arms turn into noodles together or something.

[ hah, why is this boy so nice... Rudbeckia is hardly the kind of person who can sincerely preach about prioritising your own comfort. what she could tell Jonas is that it's vital to be able to do the hard thing sometimes rather than take the easy way out, but she knows better than anyone that, coming from her, that advice would be like feeding him a poison just because she's learnt to swallow it. even if she's a liar, there's no reason to lie to him about that. she simply won't say anything.

she shakes her head as Jonas starts talking about taking the curse. ]

I don't want to get cursed, and I don't want you to get cursed because of me. [ she curls a lock of wavy golden hair around her finger and fidgets with it, feigning shyness. well—it is honestly embarrassing. feigning an appealing, demure shyness, in any case. ] And I trust you, so it's not like I'm against it...

Edited 2022-12-28 05:43 (UTC)

Hi Jonas. I need you to come rescue me, please. Trapped under mistletoe.

（ she sends a helpful location ping.

honestly she's just tired of the sprites, and the curses, and the nonsense, and this seems like the easiest recourse. plus, kissing jonas is probably fine. the idea of her asking sasuke... let's just say, that's not on the table at the moment. ）

(he'd rather die than abandon sakura to kiss sasuke after the tea laurent spilled.....

jonas valiantly evades the knee-jerk "a gorgeous, intelligent woman is asking me to lay one on her" reaction, zen when replying to sakura's message. he's grateful to be a go-to, understanding that the trust that comes with that means something good.)

Rescue incoming, just wrapping up a convenience store trip. Want anything before I head your way??

Water? Breath mints? Glittery lip gloss?

I imagine breath mints wouldn't be a bad idea, just for politeness' sake.

I'll skip the glitter, though. Sort of at odds with the lifestyle, you know?

（ ahahaha... look at her being so casual about kissing. this is fine. everything's fine. ）

(YOU'RE DOING SO GREAT, SWEETIE)

One thingy of breath mints, no glitter. Got it.

ETA ~5 mins??

(by the looks of it, sakura's on the fringes of the outdoor marketplace where the sneakier mistletoes have been placed, and that paints a picture. it's not a long walk; the convenience store is a few blocks from his place and his place is a few blocks from the bazaars. at a brisk pace, he makes good time.)

Hey, Sakura, (jonas calls to her, ensuring he's heard before approaching. he's emerging from a shortcut at her back and doesn't want to startle her, glancing up at the offending mistletoe in a step around to her front.) You know, mistletoes were festive and cute once... like, as decorations.

(were. now they're proximity mines.)

I, uh... I hope you haven't been standing here long.

（ one of the small ways jonas is so thoughtful, she turns faintly to look over her shoulder as he approaches and nods at him once he's situated in front of her. ）

It's also a poison. Why am I not surprised people were using it as decorations?

（ she sighs, and ruffles at her hair (which is already mussed about — divebombed by fairies, perhaps?) ）

Thanks for coming on short notice. I've run into a few people that've gotten cursed by this, not sure I want to add that to my day. I'm, um, not very practiced at kissing, so please excuse me if I'm terrible at it.

（ pls give her a breathmint tho. ）

Because we're all weirdoes.

(an extremely helpful addendum.

sakura messes with her hair and jonas, reacting on instinct, reaches forward to free a loop-de-loop strand that looks stubborn enough to stick in place without intervention. in the time it takes for him to check his pockets for the mints and gum, his ears turn a very embarrassing shade of red.)

It's cool, though. I'm—well, I've—it's not new to me, but I'm not, like, a professional or anything. (stop talking. wanting to avoid making this awkward for her, the mints are offered with a smile when he's got the balls to meet her eyes.)

Oh, I know: We could do a practice run!

(is he joking, shooting his shot, or just really stupid? the jury's still out on this one.)

（ please appreciate the amount of self-control it takes to overcome the ptsd urge to just smack jonas' hand away the moment he starts to reach for her. instead, she stands perfectly still as he touches her hair, and by the time he's rummaging for other things she too has a curious red tint to her cheeks.

she takes a mint when it's proffered, and then, perhaps a bit skeptically: ）

Wouldn't practice work the same as, um, the real thing as far as the fairies are concerned?

（ please explain your logic, sir. ）

(flat-lining....... throwing back to his last few mistletoe smooches, it's easy, even for jonas, to notice the obvious pattern.)

Well, a kiss on the lips always works, but besides that, I've only tried a kiss on the cheek and forehead. Those didn't go as well.

(in his pocket, the fingers that touched her hair press together before the whole hand condenses into a tight fist.)

I haven't given anyone's hand a shot yet. It's, like... science-y. You know, like... getting rid of all other ideas to get to the actual right idea. Just pretend I worded all of that coherently and in a smart way.

（ it's not you jonas it's the Trauma!! ）

Like forming a hypothesis? （ she does wonder if that was intentional on his behalf, stumbling into something he knows she's good at as a way for her to regain her footing in the conversation. it's sweet, and tender, and whether or not he'd done it on purpose it's enough that warmth gathers in the pit of her stomach, offset by the burning, icy chill of the mint that she's currently working around with her tongue. ）

Well, I already tried kissing a clone of myself... that didn't work out last time, so we can scratch that one off the list. （ that's said dismissively, completely oblivious to the fact she's telling a teenage boy she tried kissing her own clone. sorry, buddy. ） So, um... hand?

（ but, rather than offer her own she does something just a little bold, reaching out to capture his, lifting it up to her lips. hers are chapped with the blustery weather, a little rougher than any normal girl would find acceptable, but the kiss she presses to the tendons standing out against the back of his hand is chaste and soft regardless.

nope, no luck. she releases him after a moment with an embarrassed little giggle, and rubs at the back of her neck — a gesture stolen from naruto and their long years of familiarity with one another. ）

Haha... guess not?

[Where Jonas' immediate reaction is relief, Fukawa's is shock and alarm.]

Yes?!

[Excuse him?

She's cut off before she can lay him out for trapping her here with great malice and deliberate intent (the only explanation), which is probably for the best. He exonerates himself better with that single protest than he would have with a twenty minute argument. She's left somewhat flummoxed, mouth dropped open and eye twitching.]

What? Th-they slipped you tongue?

[Why has no one slipped her tongue? It's because she's so ugly?]

(it may be cruel to watch someone flounder and not offer any help, but jonas looks at it this way: if he was confused enough to be shrill and twitching, would he want someone to draw attention to it?

no. no, he fucking would not.

when she's through talking, he nods solemnly, closing his eyes.) Yeah, and I'm still tender from it. I know, I know, I brought it up, but I think I'd rather repress the memory and move forward with my life. (the melodrama. the intrigue. a hand is placed on his cheek.

anyway.)

I'm glad you're... you... and not a stranger. I know it's kind of awkward or—well, really awkward, but I think calling that out usually makes people feel better. Or, uh... maybe that's just me.

(save these two from themselves)

[Jonas is way too pure for this world, I put him in a sweater and give him hot choccy

Fukawa listens, her expression frozen in a perplexing mixture. There's fury still, and shock, but also a healthy dose of jealousy and a whole lot of curiosity. Considering how he'd already locked lips with another guy (sort of), she's stunned. How has he gotten so lucky, so fast, in so few months?!

Then again, he's not bad looking. Um.]

G-g-g...Stranger? [What is the thought she's trying to form here? Fukawa swallows back a wad of spit. Whew, how can your mouth be dry and too wet at the same time?] I s-suppose ranking just above a completely suspicious person is fine. It's the b-best I could hope for, probably.

[She sighs. Yes, that's it. Imply he insulted her. The balance is being restored. She is no longer besieged with visions of Jonas being gripped by a stranger and surrendering his lips to a world of fantasy. Totally done with that. One hundred percent.

Except, they're under mistletoe now. Together. She looks up at the vivid green leaves and quails at once.]

Th-though...th-that doesn't make this situation any less dire! It's not like we're engaged or anything! [Is engaged too far?] Or dating! Or — or...do you even like girls?

[Asking for a friend.]

(with extra marshmallows please

jonas can't think of a time when he's been ready to answer the orientation question, but it also hasn't been enough of a big deal for him to keep it a secret. his usual response is a shrug and a joke—a "i have my cake and eat it, too," or a "porque no los dos?"—casting the whole thing off as a nonissue—those are his true feelings. he's had far more pressing concerns than who he wants to fuck.

even still, the meat of fukawa's commentary, paired poorly with a bold-flavoured question, is enough to make him visibly flustered.)

Well, yeah, I do, I just—wait, why would we be engaged? (engaged is too far. dating is too far. would dating be too far? jonas reaches up to massage the back of his neck.) Look, Fukawa, none of that stuff matters right this second... except maybe your insanely low opinion of yourself, which—Jesus, I can't even tackle that right now.

What does matter is that we're stuck here until we lay one on each other or play curse roulette with that thing.

(the sprite, who has been lazily dangling in the air as if they were lying across a chaise lounge chair, wiggles their fingers at them. a class act.)

I don't know about you, but I know where my vote's going. I'm getting really sick of curses.

[Well, he's not expecting Jonas to be this effusive about it, anyway, so he chuckles, bashfulness, astonishment and just plain hilarity making their way into his laughter all at once. Zag grins, and then flusters at the idea of someone being so forward from the get-go.] Were they really that bold?

Unfortunately—er, fortunately? (for jonas, being straightforward is never a bad thing. there was no malicious intent, so he's chill with it.) I didn't even know what to call it afterward.

(his eyes point upward at the mistletoe. sprites nearby, having a great time watching people either suffer or prosper, cajole and snicker at them.)

What I'd call it now is "a risky move." You're, uh—I'm glad you're not some random. Have you run into many of these mistletoes?

[Zag's eyebrows are arched but out of inquisitiveness more than actual critique. He's not here to judge if one enjoys a nice smooch or two,

or three

or four.

That would be thoroughly hypocritical of him, after all. The godling sighs, a bit sheepish but finding some humor in all of this.] Oh. Er. You've seen me working at the docks. I was doing the rounds selling what I caught when these plants decided to appear in random places.

[He shakes his head. It had been a riot.] Those fishmongers are very loud and very, ah, unhibitted. All in good fun, though. I understand some traditions needn't be so complicated in their meaning.

Oh, I've seen you out there. I think to say "hi" sometimes, but I never wanna throw off your guys' game. (it looks tough, carrying crates of fish, chum—whatever.

jonas shrugs.) Mistletoe's, like, as simple a tradition as you can get, but somehow that makes it harder to handle. It's hard out there for the awkward guys.

(WHICH GENEROUSLY INCLUDES HIM.)

Looks like kisses on the cheek or forehead don't work, either. Tried that a couple of times, but it didn't take, so...

[Zagreus beams and nudges Jonas' shoulder with his own, which, considering the slight height difference, makes him nudge his upper arm instead.] You should say hi. I'll always make time for you, mate.

[Though his lip twitches, he is a bit amused, a bit endeared at how his friend is going on about it.] Jonas. It's me. You don't have to worry about it. I understand if you don't like the idea, but I won't hold it over your head or anything. I just don't want to see you suffering from these silly pranks that the sprites are so fond of.

(it's an innocent sending ceremony for most. having witnessed the death of the hierarchy members, however, jonas thought it'd be appropriate for him to attend their funeral to pray for their safe passage and keep an eye out for amun as though he'd be in attendance. he stands on the pier, hat off out of respect held against his middle, watching the little rafts float away. the sight sits like lead in an already heavy chest, but the bad feeling, which he recognizes now as a portent, only worsens.

when the rafts are aflame and spirits raise from the mouths of the deceased, jonas feels his face grow hot, tensing gradually with the unperceived passing of time until his lungs will only allow him short, shaky breaths. eyes wide through the reading of the souls' last rites and eulogy, these ghouls, one by one, wail their torment at the dark sky, to which jonas responds with a harsh gasp inward and a forceful step back into a tearful crowd.

large, his action displaces several from their spots and even staggers one woman who gets her bearings in the last seconds before falling. he doesn't apologize, he doesn't say a word—he hurries away from the crowd and blue ghosts at his back, hat gone and replaced by clutching fingers at the front of his sweater.)

[Jonas isn't alone at that funeral. Further away from the shoreline, a shadow displaced from the crowd of Restless — those aligned with the Hierarchy threaded among them like snakes in a den — Sasuke has found a vantage point to watch the ceremony unfold. The burdened atmosphere is familiar, a dark and heavy cloud that follows death, one he has witnessed before in greater quantities, again and again, however the rituals and rites of worlds might differ. Death is death. The loved ones of those slain by the headless rider must be here in the crowd as well, grief a smear of powerful passion enough to beat back Oblivium's tide.

The quiet melancholy comes to an abrupt end as those angry, harrowed spirits peel off from the corpses on the boats, taking flight over the heads of the crowd. Confusion is soon overtaken with alarm and then fear. The sky is already the deep, bruised color of a contusion, but the spirits block out even that last bit of light from twin moons — it's difficult to see the road as the funeral's witnesses begin to scatter in a terrified rush of bodies.

Sasuke moves when he sees what is happening. Leaping into the crowd with the intention to protect innocent civilians from any threat, keen eyes pick out Jonas swiftly for his height and familiar face, and he approaches, appearing suddenly at Jonas' side with preternatural movement.]

You shouldn't stay here. It isn't safe.

(sasuke's sudden appearance is detrimental, shocking him into halting as he drowns in his own panic. the calm he felt he could've gained by distancing himself from the funeral was wishful thinking, he knew that—knows that—yet tries to cope on his own despite it. trauma returns to knock down the defensive wall he'd erected, one designed to allow him to lie and ignore the issues from home that haunt him.

why did he ever think that he could lead a normal life here? eyes shut as he grabs sasuke's sleeve for physical support.)

Then where— (it's cut off when another shriek from the pier prompts jonas to press the back of a tremoring hand firmly against his mouth to muffle the sounds of his own panting. he feels unable to do anything else and he's more than willing to illustrate that.)

I'm—I can't move. My... My legs won't—

[It doesn't require a leap of greater intuition to see that something is wrong with Jonas. He twitches back a half-step when his sleeve is grabbed, the slightest show of surprise for it, but he doesn't force Jonas back from him. Not with that terrified look on the other boy's face. There are more important issues afoot than personal space.]

Away from here. Follow me. [He uses his captured sleeve to tow Jonas, if he's able, further from the pier.] Take a deep breath, nothing will happen to you while I'm here.

[Confidence in his own abilities is what allows him to make this promise, even as one of the vengeful, howling spirits plummets from the sky in a direct line toward them — as if scenting Jonas' fear and malleability as a host. Gentleness swiftly abandoned, he hooks his right arm around Jonas' middle and hauls him out of the way of its trajectory, knocking him solidly onto the ground.]

Stay down, [comes hissed. Sasuke shields him from view, crouched above, eyes tracking the ghost as it soars over their heads with a blood-curdling scream.] Don't move.

(sasuke walks and jonas follows because trailing behind, watching someone's back, is where he exists most comfortably. the concern he generates makes him feel guilty; making this someone's problem affects him in ways he hadn't imagined it might. he's a burden—again?

caught up in himself, the only thing that drives jonas out of his own head is the throw to the ground. his palms shear painfully across the harbour path, but it's forgotten almost immediately as he turns onto a hip and stares at the plunging ghost until sasuke has obscured it from view with his body. both trigger a shift in jonas that invites his shadow to the forefront as a barrier between any mind and his own.)

What are you trying to do? (grasping hands return, still unable to be physically left alone. this time, however, tight fists attempt to tug sasuke closer out of his crouch. the chest beneath his knuckles is unfamiliar to him, not knowing sasuke well enough to say with confidence that he'll be less of a danger for him than the spirit, but he may make an effective shield.)

It's already dead—there's no fending it off. If it wants you, it'll take you. You might as well just open yourself to it!

[The question jolts Sasuke from careful survey of the sky above, two fists yanking him out of the poised crouch — he catches himself on his right hand, palm flat to the ground to avoid physically collapsing onto Jonas. The position is awkward, requiring bent legs to hold sharp tension, but he does not disrupt it immediately. Not with that wild-eyed look on Jonas' face.]

You speak as if you've met this enemy before. [He's seen nothing like it, not in tireless weeks he's spent scouring this world's wilderness, but he is inclined to trust what Jonas says after what he just witnessed. They're already dead.] ... If that's the case, then killing it won't be possible. We'll avoid it and escape. I can move you to a safer location.

[Unaware of the influence of the Shadow, he leans away once more, requiring Jonas to sit up with hands affixed to his shirt or relinquish him altogether. Luminous, dissimilar eyes spot the ghost as it comes sweeping back for them, wailing in that same eerie, inhuman voice. He could summon Susano'o. But he isn't certain it will hold against the spectral creature — would it simply phase through the materialized chakra? That is if the ability works at all.]

I'm going to lift you now. Stay calm.

[This is the only warning Jonas will receive before one arm encircles his middle, hauling him over-shoulder, chakra-imbued strength allowing Sasuke to take an enormous leap out of the way of the ghost's next plunge.]

You're actually listening to me. (there's no question here, only bitter disbelief. both his shadow and his original mind speak with genuine surprise at sasuke's willingness to hear them out—a painful first.

it's why there's no resistance in the way jonas rises with sasuke. despite being unable to help in the mobility department, as shaky as he finds himself, this doesn't seem to pose a problem; even one arm is enough to haul jonas off of the ground. he can't even muster up an indignant squawk at being treated so roughly. this is the lesser of two evils between being thrown around and being possessed again by someone—something—spiteful.

he holds on for dear life to the fabric over the small of sasuke's back.)

My place is right up the next street. We could wait them out there, or—I-I don't know! It's the shack with the smiley face!

(thankfully, the ghost has difficulty catching up to the powerful jump. jonas watches as it corkscrews higher over the harbour's buildings, joined by the spirit of another hierarchy member. he recognizes their faces as the heads he'd risen to after the headless horseman had his way with them, and the rest of the colour drains from his face.

their elongated mouths fall open, hair-raising cries delayed in their joint pursuit. his hold on sasuke turns into a twisting fist, harmlessly knocking at his spine.)

Oh, Jesus. Oh, god, I'm—I can't do this again...!

[Again. That word isn't lost on Sasuke, even as the present bears down upon them in a violent start. There is no time to question any of what Jonas says — action takes precedence, and Sasuke is quick to respond, narrowly dodging another plunge of ghostly malevolence overhead. He keeps his arm around Jonas' hips, body slung over shoulder, secure in the hold even as that sinister whisper stirs within the dredges of his own mind. He's grown familiar to its influence these past several days. The thoughts are his own, taking dark root, but he knows they would not be there if not for the Shadow of this world. 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐲. 𝐒𝐨 𝐰𝐡𝐲 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐡𝐢𝐦? Atonement means nothing in this world. They are all already dead.

In response to this wandering thought, his grip becomes rigid, an almost strangling pressure around Jonas' waist as he flees the area, luminous eyes hunting every door he comes across. Another street flashes past them, moving now away from the water — another wailing voice rings down from the overcast sky — and Sasuke comes to a sudden stop in an alley, shadowed beneath awnings. He eases Jonas off his shoulder onto the ground.

The shack with the yellow smile is in front of them.]

I'm going back to distract them. I'll leave a clone here with you for protection in case it finds you. [He looks into Jonas' pale, stricken face when he says this, then makes a signal with one hand. An identical Sasuke suddenly appears behind Jonas. I can't write this seriously.] I'll return after they're gone. Can you hold on until then?

Hey, I may have a part-time job at the theatre, but this is the easiest money I'll ever make.

(gems are laid out before them, shining with promise. there are several, but jonas is only willing to commit to one at a time. he's only got two hands and one of those is reserved for scratching his nose and adjusting himself. there are limits to what he's willing to sacrifice here.

his fingers wiggle, palm outward and facing a potential hand-holding partner.)

C'mon, fifty-fifty split. Ten coins per crystal... so that's—that'd be, like... five coins per person. Or—wait, Esmeralda said ten per crystal per person, right? So... So, like, half of ten—twenty would be ten.

(ahem.)

Yep. (the "p" is popped.) Eating good tonight.

[ truth be told, this is also the easiest money that eddie's every going to make too. also probably the most legal easy money he's going to make in his life. or not life. in the life he's been granted in death? or whatever this place actually is because he's less sure the more he talks to people about it.

he's seated next to jonas, long legs stretched out in front of himself as he looks at the gems and barely follows along with what the guy's saying. math wasn't eddie's strong suit in school, along with any other subject taught there. ] Yeah, ten per person and she didn't give anyone a limit right?

We could be eating like kings tonight. [ and for weeks after all for a little hand holding! eddie leans forward to pick up a gem and then holds his hand out, palm up. he's with you on the one hand to spare at the moment, jonas. ]

（ jonas' first mistake was letting ichigo know where he lived, lbr.

so, here he is. he's being chased by one of those stupid sprites, and he keeps swatting it away with a loud curse every time it tries anything stupid, but — kissing people? nah, thanks.

ichigo bangs on the door with his boot, because his hands are otherwise occupied. he's carrying a box. what's in the box? that is a question for another tag. ）

Jonas! Open your damn door.

(half-asleep on his ratty old couch, jonas issues the door a classic "alright, alright, hold your horses," channelling his inner sixty-year-old dad.

when the door opens a minute later, his face presses into the crack in a way that dents his cheeks. he takes a look up at the sprite, then down at the box in ichigo's arms, and decides that he does have the mental strength and social acuity to deal with this situation today.

he pushes the entrance open wider, swinging aside to invite his friend—plus one—in.)

Hey, Peter, Tink—where's Wendy?

（ local english lit nerd understood that reference, and ichigo just groans in response. ）

Don't even start.

（ so far the pest hasn't done much but be annoying, chirping insults at him, but his patience is wearing thin. even tsubaki doesn't piss him off this much. ）

Anyway, you're the only American I know, so...

（ it's funny, you know? most people in japan don't celebrate christmas, at least not in the ways they do in the west. he and his sisters and dad usually just get a king's feast of kfc, close the clinic to everything except emergencies, and spend their time piled on futons watching cheesy old movies on the twenty-fourth.

but the tradition of christmas was one of those things chad missed from his time in mexico, and ichigo had gone out of his way to learn where those traditions intersected after one disastrous misstep wherein he'd asked chad what the hell the weird little figures he kept on his desk around the holidays were (spoiler warning: nativity scene).

which is what had given him the idea here.

so, when jonas opens the box he'll see a variety of little knick-knacks. a little poinsettia that's been strung with a popcorn garland, other assorted 'clearly handmade and/or acquired by rogue banditry' type stuff. decorations, clearly christmas themed — albeit, if selected by a guy who has clearly never taken the time to put a star atop the murdered corpse of a pine tree. ）

It's not like the days here correspond to anything back home, but it's cold as shit and that's good enough for me. Sorry we can't do Los Pastores or anything.

（ he just confidently assumes jonas will know what the hell that is because north america is clearly a monolith of culture, right? right. anything that important to chad has to be known by all, that's just how it works. ）

Is it a box of burgers? (jonas asks wryly, closing the door when all bodies are inside. his place doesn't smell like coagulating blood anymore, but it still looks like a nineteen-year-old boy's living space. combined, these facts yield a net positive—yay.

ichigo shouldn't mind.

jonas stops in front of him, hands intent on the flaps of the box.

words do reach attentive ears, although he ignores them for a moment, too busy lifting a few items. a tiny reindeer with a red nose made of birch tree and sticks, fairy lights ichigo's sprite seems uncannily interested in, the poinsettia, which looks old-fashioned wearing its garland—to name a few. the gesture means a hell of a lot more to his expression might suggest; brow pinched, he looks almost confused. it's been difficult lately for him to stem tears, missing home and father, and he just manages it, feelings staying knotted tightly in his throat instead.

that doesn't stop him from forcing his head into a jerky nod, overwhelmed. with nowhere to direct the energy but forward, he brings an arm around ichigo's shoulders, mindful of the box and its contents, and gives him a brief squeeze of a hug.

sorry, dude.)

Thank you. I... I don't know what Los Pastores is, man, but Christmas is—it's important to me, you know? (drawing away, the box comes with him, placed on a lone chair gathering dust.) I never liked it before, it's just—I miss it now. This means a lot.

(the sprite, ignored and bitter about it, folds their arms with an indignant sigh.)

（ okay, but how about: he's being hugged and making absolutely zero move to hug back. that's a normal human thing to do, right? he hasn't exactly frozen, or tried to shunpo away, but he's sort of just... ignoring? it? stop being weird, jonas. ）

Los Pastores... it's a thing in Mexico. A play about the nativity, the birth of Jesus or whatever? You don't do that in Oregon?

（ look he understands the geography just fine, where his comprehension falls down is on matters of scale. y'all, north america is just real fuckin' big, okay? ）

(with the hug ignored on ichigo's end, he's quick to draw back. a bit embarrassed, the cute little poinsettia is immediately whisked to the kitchenette by jonas to be given a drink of water and to be sat in one of the prettier spots of the shack. the royal treatment.

popcorn string is fussed over, adjusting segments that might've slid into a tangle beneath the leaves.)

Oh, right, yeah. There's a pretty big latino community where I used to live, but we don't celebrate Mexican holidays. We do our own version, I guess... even though my family was more into church services about the birth of Christ than plays about it. (jonas wonders if he should learn spanish, then wonders if he could learn spanish. he never was any good at studying.)

... Can I get you a drink or something? I've got coffee and tea, I think. The coffee's the instant stuff, but... it gets the job done.

We just eat KFC in Japan. At least in the big cities. And it's kind of a romance thing too, I guess. Like Valentine's.

（ the box is set gingerly down, and he does trail after jonas to the kitchen — proof, at least, that his strange reaction to the hug is more about the hug itself than about jonas' company. ）

Coffee, sure.

（ he likes tea just fine, but also: does he trust someone from america to make it properly??? no, no he does not. ）

(open) hanging on in quiet desperation—

▹ 𝙼𝙸𝚂𝚃𝙻𝙴𝚃𝙾𝙴.

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wildcard tho;

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stomps over here, i demand kisses too!!!

OH, YOU'LL GET THEM

excellent...brilliant...

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slides into these DMs

:smirk: swipes right again

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▹ 𝙽𝙾𝚃𝙸𝙲𝙴 𝙱𝙾𝙰𝚁𝙳. (𝟷)

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▹ 𝙽𝙾𝚃𝙸𝙲𝙴 𝙱𝙾𝙰𝚁𝙳. (𝟸)

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wildcard;

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