Scene #2890: Fuss Fuss Fuss

Owner	Pose
Mamoru Chiba	"Zo-zo~?" is one hell of a nickname and it hails from the earliest days of Zoisite's original tenure as one of Endymion's guardians. It's also what comes through the cracked-open door between the server room and Kazuo's bedroom proper, Mamoru's voice a quiet thing, seeking not to disturb but to quietly either amuse or troll. Since Mamoru doesn't want to get set on fire, he immediately follows it up with stepping in to show Izou the milk tea with extra boba he got. And offer it. "I know you're feeling better, because Kazuo's actually left the building, but--" His body language is tentative, hesitant. "I didn't notice how bad it got. I'm sorry."
Izou Saitou	It had been bad. Very bad. And worst part was that Izou also didn't notice until it was very much too late. In truth he didn't blame anyone--it was mostly himself being too stubborn to consider he'd be too exhausted at all for the amount of performances he signed up for. There is a chance that it will happen again, pushing himself to do more performances in the future. It was in his nature to be impulsive, putting too much on his plate. Even now he still did not back away or retract himself from any of the piano responsibilities for the current performances. But, he seemed much more relaxed now, like he had slept and eaten more than one plate of solid food--Kazuo's care doing its magic. Fussed over, getting some worried text messages and calls. Now, Izou was leaning against a pile of pillows, a campy horror book in his hands when the door peeked open. His green eyes lit up at the milk tea boba, instinctively letting go of the book and reaching out for it, fingers gesturing a grabbing motion. Physically, the dark bags under his eyes were much softer now, the healthy glow returning to his features. Soft hair loose and and wearing an oversized shirt that had a vintage picture of Edith Piaf printed on it. "I'll forgive you once you give me the tea."
Mamoru Chiba	Laughing, Mamoru takes the three steps necessary to come alongside Izou and hand him the tea. Then he sits on the bed, too, and crosses his legs and leans up against one of the other walls boxing Kazuo's bed in. He leans his head back against the wall and sliiiiiiiides sideways, arm stretching out, hand open, toward the Kunzite plushie, his eyes tracking Izou's line of sight. As he's doing this, he's talking, as if that might distract Izou from the grand theft plushie his prince is attempting. "I wish I could, like, assign people superpowers. If you kept doing this, avoiding sleeping in order to pile on too many committments? I'd assign you triplication. So you'd have two other Izous to get everything done while you slept. It'd be so convenient."
Izou Saitou	The moment the tea was given, Izou pulled it close and began to suck on the straw like he has not had a sip of any liquid for days. Once a third of the tea and boba pearls were gone, he gave a satisfied nasal sigh, eyes closed for only a second. Then he leans back into the pillows behind him, glancing over to his prince. "That would be a ridiculous superpower for me to have. And useful. Imagine three of me across Tokyo. No one would have peace." And the chances of tripling his musical load was just as present if that had been reality. "By the way, I forgive you and I thank you for being there when you were." One hand reaches over to grab at the Kunzite plushie so he can snuggle it between the two of them--and at Mamoru's huggable reach.
Mamoru Chiba	Mamoru accepts the plushie being snuggled between them, but does also briefly hug it with a gently silly solemnity. And then he leans to take Izou's hand and hug ''that'' solemnly. Psychically, there's just the gentle warmth of his presence, and affection; there's a soft wall that by now Izou knows is a boundary most people don't have to spend all the time setting. "Yeah. Widening highways makes more traffic. Nature abhors a vacuum and all that," he says ruefully, then lets Zoi's hand slip away. "But, so, yeah. It's a habit you need to work on changing," and now his voice is a little apologetic, like he's sorry he has to say so, "instead of a one-shot problem that can just be fixed. And Kazuo can help, and I can help, and Minako-chan can help, at the ''very'' least." He wiggles his sock toes and pushes at Izou's calf with them, then hugs the Kazuo plushie again. "You just need to agree to it. Hawkmoth stages unwelcome interventions. It's fun having a temper tantrum. It's really fun to let the hell go on dark energy and just lose yourself in your feelings, it's just that like... it hurts other people. And mistreating yourself to the point that you forget that hurts ''you'' and is dangerous for everybody. Mistreating yourself to the point that Hawkmoth seems like a great idea, you know? Hawkmoth always feels like a good idea at the time, but..." He reaches up and rubs his face. "I can't even get mad at the guy. Like he is so monofocused, I respect that. What a ridiculous villain. Honestly I wish more were like him. No I don't."
Izou Saitou	A squeeze from his fingers to Mamoru's offered hand. The contact of skin to skin and the warmth that flowed from the prince was a welcomed comfort. And within, anything that could be seen from Izou's mind that was now, as promised, open to Mamoru's gaze--crystal cave of moss greens and shimmering raw rubies and just the ''hint'' of blue shimmers embedded was serene. Like the rest of the youngest tennou, it was recovering. "You can't really help when it comes to practice." It's a calm interjection, but one where it showed he was listening. Green gaze lowers to the cup of ice cold milk tea, thinking over the amount he took on. "I was weak and at my limit. Anything to flood out the anger I felt at myself in that moment felt right." And of course he would be a target. It was easy for him to get angry when he was barely conscious and stressed. Anyone would be a good target, really, in that state. His failure was to put too much faith in his method of coping being music. "I just wanted to be ''perfect'' and for everyone else to put in the same amount of care I had for the project. This is something that can be used for experience and future applications and performances. And the career path for a musician is extremely competitive..." A nod then, revealing some of the unconscious worries he had. An artistic degree was less likely to be realized than something more practical. "I will be against the best the world has to offer, even those with powers tied to their music. And the piano felt ''simple'' at the time. Who can easily say they can master two instruments when it takes a lifetime to master just one?" Izou shook his head then and smiles at Mamoru. "Sorry. You're worried about me and my health. I'll do better. I have always tried to do better by you and Kazuo and Minako." He offers his hand to his prince then. If taken, Mamoru will hear ''I just can't falsely promise it won't happen again. Music is too close to my emotions for me to separate them that easily at the moment.''
Mamoru Chiba	The crystal cave-- again, Mamoru doesn't push or anything, he only basks in the multicolored light that gleams off the mental gems, and Izou can feel Mamoru's relief at the recovery in progress. His shoulders relax, too, and Mamoru pulls his hand back for now; he absently rolls up plushie Kunzite's fall of hair, then lets it down again, then rolls it up again, then-- et cetera-- as he listens. There's a faint line between his brows that grows into a furrow as Izou goes 'I just wanted to be perfect' and on through to... he's clearly thinking ''something'' there, he has an Opinion. But he saves it-- --and he takes Izou's hand when it's offered again, and Mamoru's not able to hide his reaction to that final statement, the mental one, which knocks everything else he was going to say out of his head. His reaction is ''dread'' and the mental image that comes with it is of Anyolite stringing up the other students. "Please-- do you mean you can't promise you won't take Hawkmoth's deal again?" he gets out, feeling like he's underwater. "Because-- if you don't think you can say no to the temptation--"
Izou Saitou	Mind crystals reflect back the brightness of the inferno below the thick wires as the students hung from above like mistletoes. Macabre ornaments of an angry boy, saving each of them to eventually puppeteer back into perfection had he not been as exhausted. And such thoughts were felt, clear in transmission to Mamoru--as though it were matter of fact. Shame mixed with a resignation of what he turned into. Anyolite, ruby red tennou with ruby red eyes and only the few specs of Zoisite green that bled through. An all consuming rage birthed from fatigue and old little memories. In fact, the western ideal of Christmas seemed to bring an ache to Izou that he did not enjoy, nor wanted to admit out loud. Of course, to him, it all seemed so very obvious now. Perfection, disturbance, the tantrum of a child not heard. Damn if he and the other tennous weren't perfect targets for manipulation by pure emotions. And yet, again, his fingers squeeze Mamoru's. "Willingly, no. I won't accept any deals like that again, and that is a promise." Izou clarifies. "My hesitation is about my emotions, and only my emotions. I hid no secrets, and still I lost complete control."