hard 2 stay busy in a place like this :/ nless u like gettin beat up by training dummies
im told thats not healthy or sumthin tho so prbly dont do that. wat do kids do wen theres fuckall around 2 do? cant see u gettin n2 trouble so chores i guess?
yeah i think ive kicked so many training dummies that they're going to ban me from there :( and ive jogged around the temple so many times i think i made a new trail... and then i cleaned my entire house from top to bottom
...now im... trying to figure something else out or else ill start thinking about it all again...
mayb i ate all the vegetables i needed 2 when i was ur age thats probly y im so well preserved. u kno for a guy old enuf 2 just lay around bein lazy all day. i did my time healthy eatings 4 young ppl
[There's a wait of a little under a minute, and a couple heavy thumps. When Hank opens the door his hair is wild. His shirt's on backward.]
Fuck. I mean- Izuku. I thought, uh-
[But saying 'I thought I talked you out of this' would hurt the kid's feelings, right? Just when he probably can't afford any hurt feelings. So Hank can't make him go away, not now he's here.
The sharp smell behind him isn't that strong - he'd only spilled a little on one corner of his blanket while he was shoving the bottle under the bed - but Hank's suddenly really aware of it. He runs a hand over his hair, clearing his throat.]
[Deep down, he probably has some awareness that he's meddling. But he can't help himself. He just gets drawn into these sorts of things where he seems someone who he thinks needs help and he just has to help them. Maybe some of its out of a desperate need to feel useful.]
Hank!
This is for you. So you don't, you know, starve while doing nothing. Or... really just starve at all.
[He offers up a bowl of rice with an egg and some cooked meat on top to Hank.]
[Hank looks almost disturbed, looking down at it. It looks... nice. Earnest. God.]
Right. So, you uh... You made that up yourself, huh?
[He slouches against the doorframe, realizing belatedly that he should take the bowl, unless he wants to give the kid a little unspoken fuck you. He doesn’t. He reaches out to take it out of Izuku’s hands, his grip slow and tentative.]
I was making some for myself and Kacchan so it was easy to just make a little more. It's not really anything amazing but I learned a little bit of cooking from my mom.
[He reaches up to scratch the back of his neck as he kind of realizes that he's gone into his meddling mode again.]
But you don't have to eat it! It's okay! I know I actually imposed it on you...
[Hank turns to look at the room behind him, pulls a dismayed face, and walks across to his bed, setting the bowl kind of precariously on a windowsill as he goes. Quick as he can he shoves his blanket and pillows to one side up against the wall next to the bed, trying to get them bunched up high enough to cover all the stupid little phrases he's spent a bunch of stupid hours chipping into the stone there. If he was going to try and recreate the whole effect of those post-it notes in his fucking bathroom back home he should have stuck to defacing the bathroom, not his actual room where actual people go. Hank realizes that now. But all he can do is ask a question and hope it distracts the kid enough for Hank to pretend he's just clearing out a spot to sit.]
Kacchan that's uh, that's your classmate, right? You cook for him?
[Izuku maybe doesn’t notice all the details of what Hank has been writing by he notices that he seems put out. He can’t help it, he’s always been the observant sort. But he’s polite enough not to ask any questions.
He just sits when there’s space and swings his feet.]
I cook for him sometimes. He actually says my cooking is garbage so he usually does the cooking. But sometimes I do it anyway just to help him out.
[Hank sits at the corner of the bed where the spill is, starting to run his tongue over his teeth and stopping for a second, looking down at himself. He might as well not have noticed his shirt was backward, it's not like he can do shit about it now.]
Nice of you to do this too, although uh, I'm probably not gonna starve any time soon, huh?
[Smiling very faintly Hank gestures to himself, referring to what he might call 'physique', but only if he said it with a heavy dose of irony.]
Right. You said you made some for you too though, didn't you? Uh-
[He purses his lips, remembering what the kid'd said about about having trouble with his appetite.]
What's your favorite food? Something like... I don't know, dessert or something. If you can find something in that weirdo kitchen that's sort of the same thing as something you actually like, maybe that'd help when you uh, don't feel like you can keep much down.
Yeah I did. Ahh, though my favorite food is katsudon but I'm not very good at making it myself. I usually buy it from the cafeteria or my mom makes it for me.
But-
[He swings his legs, looking down at his oversized sneakers. He looks a little ashamed about admitting that he was having any sort of problem.]
Usually, if I'm feeling sick from pain medications or injuries, I just have a protein shake or something like that. But I'm not sure Miss Astoria stocks protein powder. It seems a little modern, you know? But the feeling passes always eventually, I'll be fine.
[Hank shrugs a shoulder, scooting sideways until his back meets the wall, trying not to think too hard about why Isuku has a whole routine for what to do when he’s messed up with pain meds. He focuses on slumping backward instead. Less work than sitting up straight.]
I guess that depends on how you feel about making that shake out of something else. Like, I don’t know, beans. What’s, uh, katsudon? Anything this place might have the stuff for?
I don’t think a bean shake would help settle my stomach.
[He scrunches his nose and shudders a little at the thought.]
Oh, katsudon is… pork cutlet, deep fried, and there’s runny egg and rice. It’s the best, I could eat it every day. Actually, I do eat it for lunch almost every single day…
[He sighs, bemoaning the tragic loss of daily katsudon per his circle arrival. Then he blinks.]
You know… do we even have pork here? Or is it all... you know, weird magic stuff.
But maybe you could find something that works anyway. I don’t know how much meat’s back there though, you might have to find someone to, uh- [He makes a face.] -hunt up something for you. Or maybe there’s some magic tofu around somewhere.
[He can’t not think about it. He’s going to ask. Hank lets his head fall back against the wall, sighing. Fuck, he doesn’t want to feel bad about anything else right now, but he’s going to ask.]
Those pain meds are a real bitch though, right? You gotta deal with them a lot?
[He leaves the question open for anything, mostly as a matter of habit. Let the answer go wherever the other person wants to take it, sometimes there’s no telling what info you’ll scoop up. Not that he expects anything surprising- it’s probably an occupational hazard, more nuggets of gold from that hero business he already thinks so much of.]
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im told thats not healthy or sumthin tho so prbly dont do that. wat do kids do wen theres fuckall around 2 do? cant see u gettin n2 trouble so chores i guess?
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...now im... trying to figure something else out or else ill start thinking about it all again...
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what about you? :o do you have people and things to keep you busy? oh aside from sumo of course :)
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mayb u can teach urself 2 cook on a woodstove if u set urself on fire at least itll be sumthin 2 do
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just hang out? doing nothing?
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eating the best i can, sometimes i feel sick though. but youre eating too right? even people who do nothing still have to eat!
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im gonna bring you some food so you dont starve and can keep doing nothing
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An hour later there's a very polite knock on the door.]
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Fuck. I mean- Izuku. I thought, uh-
[But saying 'I thought I talked you out of this' would hurt the kid's feelings, right? Just when he probably can't afford any hurt feelings. So Hank can't make him go away, not now he's here.
The sharp smell behind him isn't that strong - he'd only spilled a little on one corner of his blanket while he was shoving the bottle under the bed - but Hank's suddenly really aware of it. He runs a hand over his hair, clearing his throat.]
I mean. Hey.
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Hank!
This is for you. So you don't, you know, starve while doing nothing. Or... really just starve at all.
[He offers up a bowl of rice with an egg and some cooked meat on top to Hank.]
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[Hank looks almost disturbed, looking down at it. It looks... nice. Earnest. God.]
Right. So, you uh... You made that up yourself, huh?
[He slouches against the doorframe, realizing belatedly that he should take the bowl, unless he wants to give the kid a little unspoken fuck you. He doesn’t. He reaches out to take it out of Izuku’s hands, his grip slow and tentative.]
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I was making some for myself and Kacchan so it was easy to just make a little more. It's not really anything amazing but I learned a little bit of cooking from my mom.
[He reaches up to scratch the back of his neck as he kind of realizes that he's gone into his meddling mode again.]
But you don't have to eat it! It's okay! I know I actually imposed it on you...
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[Hank turns to look at the room behind him, pulls a dismayed face, and walks across to his bed, setting the bowl kind of precariously on a windowsill as he goes. Quick as he can he shoves his blanket and pillows to one side up against the wall next to the bed, trying to get them bunched up high enough to cover all the stupid little phrases he's spent a bunch of stupid hours chipping into the stone there. If he was going to try and recreate the whole effect of those post-it notes in his fucking bathroom back home he should have stuck to defacing the bathroom, not his actual room where actual people go. Hank realizes that now. But all he can do is ask a question and hope it distracts the kid enough for Hank to pretend he's just clearing out a spot to sit.]
Kacchan that's uh, that's your classmate, right? You cook for him?
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He just sits when there’s space and swings his feet.]
I cook for him sometimes. He actually says my cooking is garbage so he usually does the cooking. But sometimes I do it anyway just to help him out.
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[Hank sits at the corner of the bed where the spill is, starting to run his tongue over his teeth and stopping for a second, looking down at himself. He might as well not have noticed his shirt was backward, it's not like he can do shit about it now.]
Nice of you to do this too, although uh, I'm probably not gonna starve any time soon, huh?
[Smiling very faintly Hank gestures to himself, referring to what he might call 'physique', but only if he said it with a heavy dose of irony.]
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[There's a pause where he seems to realize that his agreement is sort of an insult and he turns red and coughs, waving a hand.]
I mean! We should all keep our strength up! We don't know where or when Miss Astoria is going to send us off again-!
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Right. You said you made some for you too though, didn't you? Uh-
[He purses his lips, remembering what the kid'd said about about having trouble with his appetite.]
What's your favorite food? Something like... I don't know, dessert or something. If you can find something in that weirdo kitchen that's sort of the same thing as something you actually like, maybe that'd help when you uh, don't feel like you can keep much down.
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But-
[He swings his legs, looking down at his oversized sneakers. He looks a little ashamed about admitting that he was having any sort of problem.]
Usually, if I'm feeling sick from pain medications or injuries, I just have a protein shake or something like that. But I'm not sure Miss Astoria stocks protein powder. It seems a little modern, you know? But the feeling passes always eventually, I'll be fine.
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I guess that depends on how you feel about making that shake out of something else. Like, I don’t know, beans. What’s, uh, katsudon? Anything this place might have the stuff for?
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[He scrunches his nose and shudders a little at the thought.]
Oh, katsudon is… pork cutlet, deep fried, and there’s runny egg and rice. It’s the best, I could eat it every day. Actually, I do eat it for lunch almost every single day…
[He sighs, bemoaning the tragic loss of daily katsudon per his circle arrival. Then he blinks.]
You know… do we even have pork here? Or is it all... you know, weird magic stuff.
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It’s all weird magic stuff.
But maybe you could find something that works anyway. I don’t know how much meat’s back there though, you might have to find someone to, uh- [He makes a face.] -hunt up something for you. Or maybe there’s some magic tofu around somewhere.
[He can’t not think about it. He’s going to ask. Hank lets his head fall back against the wall, sighing. Fuck, he doesn’t want to feel bad about anything else right now, but he’s going to ask.]
Those pain meds are a real bitch though, right? You gotta deal with them a lot?
[He leaves the question open for anything, mostly as a matter of habit. Let the answer go wherever the other person wants to take it, sometimes there’s no telling what info you’ll scoop up. Not that he expects anything surprising- it’s probably an occupational hazard, more nuggets of gold from that hero business he already thinks so much of.]
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