(no subject)

[blamekaneda.livejournal.com]

Who: Bulma Briefs [notpanties] and Shotaro Kaneda [blamekaneda].
Where: Bulma and Sakura's apartment.
When: BACKDATED! Last Sunday.
Rating: PG-13 for language.
Summary: Exhausted from his self-imposed exile, Kaneda crashes with the only friend he knows won't kick his ass on sight.
the log:

A hard day's work for Bulma usually involved finishing work on the bikes, drafting out plans for the X-Force, and making sure all of the mechanics were present. Today, though, was different: half of her mechanics were out due to emotional problems or injury, and what had originally seemed like a festive holiday trick had turned into a nightmare. Bulma had taken to turning every corner with a watchful eye, so as not to get caught under the mistletoe with someone especially unsavory. She had done a good job, too, but it had cut drastically into her social time, and the route home seemed far longer than it usually was.

Despite all of this, she was proud of herself for making it home virtually unscathed and finishing her day's work at the auto shop. A few more weeks, and Hwaorang's bike would be running. Yamagata's would follow not long after. The heaters were in order, she had a few blankets for winter, and best of all -- the apartment was hers. Sakura had been out recently, but Bulma tried not to worry. The more she worried, the worse she'd feel, and she already had quite a lot to worry about as it was.

Slipping in through the front door, Bulma peered into the apartment for a second, before making a beeline for the couch that sat inside of the living room. Just a few feet away from the couch, the window that had once been clear and wide was boarded up with several planks of wood. It was kind of irritating; she had all the materials to repair a motorcycle, but repairing a window was virtually out of the question.

Bulma let out a soft groan, sinking back into the couch and letting herself relax. Within hours, she'd have to meet up with Soul to ask him to join the X-Force, and she needed her rest until then.

He hadn't slept a wink since he ran off to the lake by himself. For starters, the nights were far too cold for him to even think about trying to get comfortable enough to doze off, secondly he'd be making himself an easy meal for any nasty monster that happened to be strolling by. Instead, he stayed up through the evening, biding his time by pelting rocks into the water or just walking along the shore for hours, thinking. About nothing; about the auto shop; about Christmas.

About Tetsuo.

There was an aching in his chest and stomach every time he conjured up the younger boy's face in his mind, followed by a crippling wave of guilt. Though the scientists pulled the strings in Discedo, there was a big part of Kaneda that felt he was at fault for everything. It was only when he replayed Yamagata's last message for the umpteenth time that it finally began to sink in.

"Feel sorry for him all you want. Y'er his friend, y'er entitled to that ... Tetsuo was gone way before you think he was. Try an' have some dignity if y'er gonna mourn 'im."

In true Yamagata fashion, his words were harsh and to the point. They were also one hundred percent right. If anyone knew Kaneda better than Tetsuo, it had to be Yamagata, and he was acting like more than a friend. He was acting like a big brother, doing and saying whatever it took to shake Kaneda out of his funk and get him to move on. More than that, Tetsuo wasn't the friend he'd remembered, even in Discedo. He was still the megalomaniac bent on destroying him, but Kaneda hoped that if he was given one more shot he could make things right.

That shot was gone now, perhaps for forever, but if anything he should've been honoring Tetsuo's memory, and respecting Yamagata while he was in the city, alive and well. And that rationale finally gave him enough initiative to hop on his bike and return home.

His first instinct was to drop Ohura off at the auto shop and find a place to crash from there, but the weight pressing upon his eyelids had him quickly formulate an alternate plan. He steered the bike, wavering here and there with driver's exhaustion, toward Latimir and parked it behind the building. Swaying a little on his feet, he trudged inside to the only other place in Discedo that he trusted he could sleep peacefully for a few hours: Bulma's apartment. He knew Yamagata would give him an earful as soon as he saw him and Kaneda felt he deserved a little shut-eye beforehand.

He reached apartment one-oh-one, jiggled the knob (no surprise to find it unlocked; Bulma said it'd be open anyway) and let himself in. He expected her to be piddling around the auto shop or doing whatever the hell else she did to occupy her time when she wasn't working.

He didn't, however, expect to see her stretched out on her couch. Shit. If he didn't want to hear it from Yamagata, he could bet anything he'd hear it from her.

At the sound of the doorknob's turning, Bulma's eyes snapped open. She had almost fallen asleep, and looked to the doorway with a grimace because of the disturbance. "Who.. Kaneda?" She sat up, still in her messy work clothes, and brought a hand up to straighten out any bedhead. "You're back!"

Springing to her feet, she headed toward the doorway to greet him, smiling and stretching her arms out above her head. "You know, I was really worried!" Her smile began to falter; it was changing with every step, her lips curving downward slowly, slowly, before she was directly in front of him, sneering. "You could have, you know, dropped a note, or -- I don't know -- sent me something over the system to let me know you weren't taken out by reavers or mutants, or, or--or freaks armed with mistletoe!" She threw her hands up, before setting them on her hips, gritting her teeth.

"And look at you, you loser! You look terrible! What if you caught a cold!? Ugh!" Marching into the kitchen, she waved a hand at him, directing him toward the couch. "Look, we've got soup here -- do you want some? Forget it, I'm going to make some. It's cold in here, anyway."

In truth, she didn't mean to yell at him; not completely. Bulma had been on the edge for the past few days, though, as she did every time his frequency didn't show up for a few days. She'd come to the realization that any day could be the day one of them would be sent back, and with Kaneda making himself scarce, it took everything for her to keep her nerves in check. After all, the scientists -- no matter how much they gave her -- always had a knack for making her life even more miserable. Losing Kaneda was potentially the worst thing that could happen to her during her stay in Discedo, and thinking of how it was inevitable made her more upset than she was able to bear.

The temptation to tell Bulma in no uncertain terms to shut the hell up and direct him to the nearest mattress for a nap was overwhelming but, with great difficulty, he trapped his lower lip between his teeth and collapsed on the couch, trying to draw the chill out of his arms by embracing himself.

He felt a little irked that she was making such a fuss over him like she was his mother. If she treated Trunks this way, Kaneda didn't envy him in the slightest. When she made a big deal out of nothing like this, she could be insufferable. Then again, she was making food, and it suddenly didn't make sense to be mad at her.

"I had ta get away," he muttered, his chin resting on his chest. "I was goin' nuts."

"I figured," she said, sternly, though her features had begun to soften. She pulled a can of soup from the pantry, pouring the contents into a small pot and filling it with some of the rationed water that she had collected. "It must have been tough." Bulma honestly didn't know what it felt like; sure, her friends were all very much alive, and even thouogh there was news of horrible things happening in the future, she hadn't experieced it yet. More importantly, she had the power to change it.

Kaneda, on the other hand, did not. There were no magical dragons that granted wishes where he came from. In fact, from what she remembered of his story about Tetsuo, Kaneda didn't have much left at all. The Yamagata she knew was dead back home, and Tetsuo, who Kaneda did everything to protect, was not coming back. Bulma had an entire company, family, and friends to return to. Kaneda had two friends and a bike. She bit her lip. She couldn't imagine how hard that was.

Grabbing a box of matches from a side draw near the sink, Bulma lit the stove and grabbed a sort of small, portable motherboard, sliding it across the counter. The job was rough, but with no gas to run on, Bulma had to require the entire stove to work solely on the electricity that the mechanics had installed. She hit three numbered buttons, before pressing a large green button to the right of the keypad. Stepping back, she watched as the soup began to heat. "Doing any better?"

He glanced at her from beneath his stringy hair to gauge whether or not she was looking his way. If he could nod, it would save him the trouble of speaking. But she was focused on the pot of soup and Kaneda willed himself to open his mouth.

"Yeah," he replied, not sure if it sounded convincing enough. 'Yeah' was the short answer; the long answer was 'no, but I'm getting there,' but he didn't want to seem like he was initiating a pity party. No matter how it still gnawed at him, he was determined to handle it on his own. Though he'd made an ass of himself over the network, hurling bottles and whatever else he could find against a wall, he wasn't ready to accept outside help. Even from Bulma. "I'm just so damn tired."

"Well, you can chill out here for a while. Might as well, with all of this stupid stuff going on outside." She took a step back, leaning against the kitchen counter and crossing her arms. She was't going to push Kaneda into talking about it; when he wanted to, he would tell her. Or, maybe he wouldn't tell her at all. Whatever his decision was, she would stick around to keep him company, and make sure he was rested before he went home. After all, anything she said wouldn't be half as terrible as whatever kind of physical beating Yamagata and Kakihara had in store for Kaneda.

"Soup's done!" She chimed, grabbing a towel and padding her hand with it. She snatched a clean fork (most of the others were rusted or just plain gross, no matter how much they were cleaned), poured the soup into a metal bowl, and made her way out into the living room. Holding it out to him, she asked, "Are you cold?"

Kaneda distractedly took it from her, a tremor lancing through him as he raised his arm, the stiffened lining of his jacket cold against his skin, even seeping through the shirt he wore beneath it.

"I guess so." Lying was pointless. His teeth were chattering, after all. "What's in this stuff, anyway?" he asked, suspiciously peering into the bowl and dipping the fork warily into its depths. At least it warmed his hands.

"Chicken noodles. It's some Discedo thing, I guess, since they don't really taste like the noodles back home.. but, try it. It's supposed to be good for you." She offered him a halfhearted grin, retreating to her room and emerging moments later with a large, slightly worn blanket. "It's not the best, but it'll keep you warm."

With that, she let herself drop back onto the couch beside him, resting her hands onto her stomach. "It's good that you're back, though."

He unceremoniously flung the blanket across his legs, not too concerned about bundling up just yet and brought the bowl to his lips, loudly slurping up the contents as was custom in Japan. There was more watery broth than noodles and Kaneda struggled not to gag.

"I would'a been gone longer," he admitted, "but I probably would'a frozen ta death on th' second night." The winter weather had descended upon Discedo faster than he anticipated it would. Though snow and the like was nothing new to him, it was unbearable to be outside without a heavy jacket or layered clothes, not that he had much to layer in the first place. A visit to one of the old abandoned clothing stores would be necessary in the next few days and, as much as he respected Bulma's opinion and educated eye when it came to mechanical stuff, their sense of fashion couldn't be any different. If he could finagle himself back into Yamagata's good graces, maybe they could go together instead. Kakihara, too. Though, knowing him, he'd relish the sub-zero conditions. Kakihara was... unique like that.

Swallowing another mouthful of soup, Kaneda all but sputtered and set the bowl aside. "Tastes like crap," he sulked.

Had Bulma not already been so accustomed to boys eating like wolves, her reaction would have been far more dramaticed. That, combined with her own fatigue from the days' work, left her with just a grimace and a slightly exagerated eyeroll. She curled up tighter in her spot, pulling her jacket over her shoulders; she'd made plans to install a heater inside of her own apartment, but moving the thing would take more than she could manage. Until Sakura returned, there was nothing she could do about the cold.

"It's good for you," she replied, her voice betraying her intentions -- she hated the stuff, but soup and other canned foods were all they had. Bulma couldn't even remember the last time she had something as common as chicken or cereal. "Well, I'm glad you're back. It's got to be hard, the whole deal with Tetsuo, but taking too much time away from here makes your other friends worry, you know."

She was right. Both Yamagata and Kakihara made their positions inescapably clear over his last post to the network: they didn't agree with what Kaneda was doing and implored him to stay in the city; to get over Tetsuo's disappearance. He could rant and rave and curse all day about how unfair it was but, really, it didn't make his unhappiness with the situation any more legitimate or meaningful than anyone else who had lost someone important to them. Deep, deep down, Kaneda was beginning to realize how selfish he was being. Not that he felt he owed an apology to all of Discedo (hell no), but his friends would be a good start.

"I know," he mumbled, drawing the blanket up to his chin. "Sorry." It came out as a barely audible hiss, forcing the word through clenched teeth. As bad as it sounded, insincerity came easy to him. It's when he meant something with all of his heart -- and when he had to admit he'd been wrong -- that it became difficult.

Then again, Bulma could have very well been reflecting her own selfishness in her statement; Kaneda had disappeared too many times for her comfort, and the longer he was gone, the more nervous and upset she grew. His presence had become second nature to her, and Tetsuo's appearance, while it wasn't such a blow to her, did make her uneasy. The entire thought of being jealous of their friendship made her angry with herself. There was a significant difference between Kaneda's relatonship with Tetsuo, and his relationship with her after all. Tetsuo was like a brother to Kaneda, from what Bulma had seen. Kaneda wanted to protect him, help him grow, teach him. But with Bulma..

She paused. What kind of relationship did they have, anyway? They were so dependent on each other, and even in silence, just being next to him was comforting to her. Bulma had long since realized how she felt about Kaneda, but she had no idea what he thought of her past their obvious camaraderie. She wasn't about to just ask him, either. This was a challenge she'd never learned how to face, through science or means of frumpy old romance novels that collected dust on the shelves of her bedroom back home. None of them taught her how to deal with falling for her best friend.

"Don't worry about it. We're hard on your because it comes with the job." She offered him a grin, pulling her knees up to her chest. Her old, pink socks rested on the edge of the couch.

He fixed her with an even stare, feeling a smile tug at the corners of his mouth before finally relenting and letting it take over his face. She'd forgiven him, though not blatantly. But being in such close contact these past months, and for all their incessant teasing of one another, Kaneda and Bulma had learned to decipher the other's words and reveal their true meaning.

For instance, "I'm not mad, honest!" translated to "Don't expect me to talk to you for at least three days, buster." But now, she was freeing him from guilt and Kaneda appreciated that she was going so easy on him. He couldn't count on being so lucky with his other friends. Better to face them now than later, he supposed, but the warmth of the blanket and the softness of the couch were lulling him into a secure, half-asleep state.

"You should take a vacation," he responded, sinking further into the cushions.

"Hah! Do I ever!" She rolled her eyes once more, her voice tinged with sarcasm. "I was thinking of a little mountain getaway. You know: Me, the wilderness, and that huge Behemoth that nearly killed everyone that went out there. Sounds romantic, huh?" Her body shifted, so that she was curled up onto the couch and facing him, running a hand through her bangs. It was something she'd done for ages to relieve stress, and something she would continue to do. Despite that, her smile was genuine. She had learned to take most of the hits the city dealt her in stride, so joking about fabulous getaways was something that didn't bother her too much anymore. That didn't mean she wouldn't have loved to escape to a clean, monster-free beach with a tiki bar and cute lifeguards, but all the same, Bulma had begun to accept that she'd have to deal with Discedo until she found a way out.

"I'd even invite you and the guys. It could be one big, happy mountain rereat for all of us. Cute, huh?"

His eyes were fighting to stay open, but he continued to focus them on Bulma and smirked. "No thanks. You couldn't blast me outta here 'til next summer. I bet'chu they don't have hot springs, anyway. Ain't no point f'there aren't any hot springs."

Kaneda was beyond tired, he was drained. His spontaneous excursion to Discedo's western lake and the sleepless night that followed were weighing heavily on him. If he closed his eyes for a second too long, he knew he'd be out for hours. Maybe even sleep straight through until the following morning. But as much as his mind and body yearned for sleep, he was determined to stay up for just a little while longer.

It had been ages since he and Bulma had a casual conversation like this. There was no discussion of work at the auto shop or the latest sucky tragedy to befall Discedo, only lighthearted banter. As if their troubles didn't exist as long as they sat up on her couch, talking. For all of his complaining, Kaneda was suddenly so glad that the scientists had brought him back, as hard as it was to leave Kai and Kei behind again. A lot of good things had been waiting for him to return, it seemed. Ohura, Yamagata, Kakihara, Mugen and Bulma, especially.

She was the first friend he made after arriving in the city, and that earned her a very special place in his life. Before they met, he was living out of one of the old convenience stores and aimlessly wandered the streets, at a loss for something to do, something to entertain himself with. When she offered him the job as a mechanic, he leapt at the chance and the rest, as they say, was history. A friendship between the two teenagers quickly blossomed and they had been nigh inseparable from that day on, except for the month he had been sent back to Neo-Tokyo. On the day he returned, it was clear she missed him immensely. He didn't say so at the time, but Kaneda missed her just as much. He missed her nagging at him constantly, at prodding him until she got her way, all the stupid fights they engaged in; her unfailing loyalty to her friends, how tough she was for being such a girly-girl, the sound of her laugh--

Kaneda clutched his chest, feeling an odd, though not entirely unwelcome tightness.

"Kaneda--!?" Bulma sat up immediately, alarmed at his gesture. "Did that stuff give you heartburn, or something?! What's wrong?" She furrowed her brows, then leaned down to pick up the can, eyeing the ingredients. They were all in English, of course, but Bulma had picked up a fair amount of it from VAVA, as well as Professor Layton's lessons. "It doesn't have anything weird.. save for food coloring and artificial flavoring." She cringed. Bulma was certainly not the type of girl to skimp out on junk food, but reading the label made her feel ill.

She set the can back down onto the floor, edging closer to Kaneda and giving him an inquiring look. "Do you want some water, or something? You should rest."

Kaneda waved her off, looking slightly annoyed. "Will you relax? I'm alright. I think-- I think a burp got away from me," he fibbed and shot her his most winning smile. The tightness slowly abated until it was gone entirely, and he slumped in his seat again. " An' since you've gone so far outta your way ta make me feel at home, I can stay th' night here, right?" There was a haughtiness in his tone, as if it was silly for him to even ask at this point.

She gave him a look of slight amusement, arching one brow at him as though she were asking him, "Are you serious?"

Seconds later, though, Bulma gave a shrug and let her body ease up in it's position. She didn't mind Kaneda staying over; the couch was big, so he had enough room to rest and pick up in the morning. Better to let him relax for a while, anyway. Marshall was more than just a couple of blocks away, and Bulma wasn't keen on any of her friends being alone outside so late at night. "Alright. But, watch out: Sakura might come home tonight, and she's got those weird ninja knives on her." Bulma gave Kaneda an impish grin, pushing herself up to stand and stretching. "We don't have too many pillows to spare, but you can have some of mine."

He wrinkled his nose at the offer. "You spray 'em down with perfume an' crap, right? I don't want th' guys here lookin' at me, smell roses an' get all 'confused.'" He made the quotation gesture as he said it, implying that the word meant something devious and unthinkable.

Regardless, if Bulma was allowing him to stay, he'd happily make new best friends with the couch. Once she stood up, Kaneda toed off his boots, wriggled out of his jacket and moved into a lying position, hands pillowing his head against the armrest.

"Dont'cha think Sakura'll like me? I'm a really likeable guy, y'know!"

"Sakura isn't as forgiving and charitable as I am, you know! She's kind of like the ying to my yang. You know, how I'm gracious and giving, and she'll punch you in the face if she doesn't like you?" Bulma's gloating was more sarcastic than anything, but she wasn't fibbing. Sakura was tough, and quick to judge a delinquent like Kaneda. Where Bulma saw a guy who was useful, brave and well-meaning, Sakura may have just seen a punk taking advantage of their heating and large couch. Nevertheless, Bulma would explain the situation if she had to.

"Comfortable, then?" She set her hands onto her hips, leaning down to meet his eyes. She was used to house guests by now, and though it was Kaneda staying over, Bulma had long-since been desensitized to boys staying with her. Still, it was strange, having him stay over without the reasoning of a building lockdown or zombie apocalypse.

"I guess," he sighed with a lofty roll of his eyes. "But f'you wanted ta make me really comfortable, you could massage my feet. I've been all over this city!" He was teasing her, though it was half-true, and Kaneda couldn't resist getting one more rise out of her before settling down to sleep.

Her eyes seemed to narrow right at him, though it was obvious that she hadn't taken him seriously. "This is my apartment, buster, not a day spa! Rub your own gross feet." She stood up straight, rolling her eyes and turning to head into her room. Coming to a stop in the doorway, Bulma set her hand on the knob, feeling a tug at the corner of her lips.

"Night, Kaneda. Don't snore; the walls are thin!"

"I'd say th' same for you," he retorted with a sly grin. "Bet'chu sound like a freight train!" Then, stretching his arms high above his head, he rolled onto his side, facing away from her.

"A gorgeous freight train!" She said, and, with a flourish, slipped into her room and shut the door.