Love Killer

The world swayed, and Yoruichi giggled accordingly.

He staggered down the hallway, using the railings along the walls for support. Were they there for that purpose? To help drunk students get to their dorms? Logically, he knew it was for the handicapped, but he liked to think it was put there just for him.

Yoruichi was kind of a mess. His hair was ruffled, his shirt was inside out, and he was pretty sure he left the dorm with socks, but was missing them both. Though he had showered earlier that day, the scent of soap and cleanliness had been masked by cigarettes, alcohol and foreign cologne. He was laughing at nothing and everything, muttering inconceivable nothings under his breath, and he walked with a walk that screamed "too much tequila, but at least I'm the best in the world".

To put it simply, Yoruichi had drunk himself stupid.

Arriving at what he was pretty sure was his dorm, he fiddled with his keys, dropping them six times before finally getting them in the hole. It took another few tries to figure out that he was turning it the wrong way, and overall, the spectacle took about three minutes too long. Once the door was finally open, he leaned into it, allowing his body weight to open the threshold as he turned the knob.

Yoruichi stumbled as he entered, giggling despite the fact that he almost went face-first into a stained carpet. He wondered if Jeriya was back, but naaaaaah, probably not!!!! It was too early. What time was it again?

He looked at the clock, though it was hazy, and eventually made out that it was 2:06 AM. Okay, maybe not too early. Oopsie!

Yoruichi realized he could just look at the bed to see if Jeriya was home and - oh. Oh, well, looks like he was.

Oopsie again, hahahhha

[ @Claire ]

Yoruichi was a mess of sloppy smiles, drunken fumbles and giggles that seemed just a little too forced. He ran his hands along the walls, feeling his way around the dark room, and eventually slumped against the foot board of his small single bed. The man clutched the soft blankets in his fists, smelling them as he dropped into a stumbling kneel, and suddenly realized something very important.

These covers didn't smell like his. This wasn't his bed at all, was it?

He tried to stop his giggles, but this new revelation only prompted them more violently. "O-oh m'god, this isn't-- this isn't my bed! It's not, hahaha, it's-- yours! How- haha, how ironic!" Yoruichi continued on his sinking path to the floor, now lazily slouched against the wall with one arm over Jeriya's bed. He stared at his roommate with blurry eyes, trying to figure out which of the several forms was the real one, and finally settled on the middle. His smile grew a little more off-kilter.

"Y'look like y'saw a... hc- ghost or somethin', buddy... Whassat about?" Yoruichi's words were slurred, more labored than he had ever allowed Jeriya to hear before, but he couldn't help it. For the first time in a long time, he had gotten himself wasted. Wasted in public. It was all he could do to try and make sense of it all, make sense of this wrench that was thrown into their relationship. However, with the alcohol's influence, Yoruichi had briefly forgotten just what that wrench was.

His brow scrunched in confusion as he squinted, the world blurry and moving even with his - oh. He wasn't wearing his contacts. They'd gotten lost... somehow... Would he really wear his glasses in front of Jeriya...? Well, he didn't see why not. Hell, he couldn't see anything!

"Mmmmmmm, can'ya hand me, uh... inna drawer, by the bed - my bed - those glasses in'er? Yeah, yeah much, thanks, lots, lots and lots of... thank yous...." Yoruichi giggled at his own poor grammar.

Yoruichi's giggling was cut short by a loud snap. He stared at the pieces now lying at his feet, his expression stretched into an almost comical expression of disbelief. Begrudgingly, it settled into a vague pout, and he looked at where his near-sighted eyes thought Jeriya was probably standing.

"Well, Jeri-chan, that was just unnecessary. Wha's got your panties in a--" Yoruichi began, but he stopped himself as he remembered. His eyes widened. "Ooooh..... OOOOH. Oh damn. Right."

From hysterics to shock to cold drunken rage, Yoruichi was displaying far more emotions than he would have been comfortable with sober. "Y'can't be so mad about that. S'not your right," he said, his eyes bitter and still too hazy to really fixate, "You're a... liar, who's liiiiiitle tiny plan kerplopped. So you don' get to be mad~~"

Out of his mind and inhibitions alike, a humorless smile curled across Yoruichi's lips and he closed his eyes, flopping back against the wall. "See, y'made a teensy miscalc, genius," he began, and then his eyes were open, boring into Jeriya's skull. "No one can love me, let alone the likes of you."

"No. Yes. No. Disappear, Jeri-chan, but don't stay away too long..." Vain laughter erupted from Yoruichi's lips, laughter that was so dry and tart that he didn't even try to stifle it. "Pathetic? Yes, yes, I'm pathetic, I know I am, it's true of course. I'm bad, Jeriya-chan. Bad, bad, bad to the bone. I'm toxic. Jeri-chan shouldn't love me. He shouldn't even want to pretend it."

Yoruichi debated whether or not to curl up on the ground and pass out, but he decided maybe, for some reason, not to do that. He didn't know the reason. He was too drunk. Instead, he hauled himself up, resting his chin on Jeriya's bed. It was hardly bright enough to see anything, especially without glasses, but Yoruichi liked to think he could see his roommate's vague sillouhette. "Jeri-chan is a very good actor. He should go into drama." More giggles escaped him. "But maybe not."

Yoruichi blinked slowly, heavily, his placid smile heavy with things unknown to both of the room's occupants. "Yoru-sama is pathetic, that's what they, those bastards, said too, but he knows and proud of himself because of it. If he's the lowest of the low, nothing can make him lower. Nothing can love him." He yawned, content yet seething. "He's safe."

Yoruichi's eyes blurred, and it wasn't just from his lack of glasses. Should he ever remember the night, he would blame it on the alcohol, his lack of inhibition and self-respect when drunk, but it didn't matter. His eyes were glossy, not tearing, but more than he had shown to anyone in... ages. He didn't like hearing this. Not from Jeriya. Not from anyone. He didn't like being told what was wrong with him, like someone knew his weaknesses, his faults. He didn't like it, and he couldn't control himself after far too many drinks.

"That's false," he muttered, his voice level but weak, "I don't hide from love. Love doesn't exist. Love never existed. Not for Yoru-chan."

...And suddenly, his lip quivered. It didn't break, but it quivered.

"What good is hiding when they find me anyway, Jeriya? What good is that when it never works? I don't hide," a lie, "I just don't want to be 'loved,'" another lie, "because love isn't real, it can't be, and it never will be," and a truth. Two lies and a truth. His voice cracked as he spoke the very last 'never.'

"It's not like Jeri-chan could ever love me anyway. Not him. I've always been so mean..."