rivalsweetscent | 012// [Video/Action]

012// [Video/Action]

([Narration of sorts])
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[The video feed clicks on, and oh hey it's the student kitchens in the background. There's two big pots on the stove and a really big rice cooker over there on the counter and oh hello there's a Bulba in the feed now. He's given up on the effort of trying not to seem really tired, and he seems pretty distracted on top of that.]

In case you were wondering um... Kirby had to go back to Dreamland for a while. Something came up...

[He frowns, looking like he really doesn't want to talk about it and makes a motion towards the stove with his head to switch the subject.]

Oh, uh, if anyone's hungry or whatever, I made some curry and... kind of made too much out of habit... There's both spicy and mild so. People are welcome to it so it doesn't go to waste. It's down here in the student kitchens.

Uh... that's it. Thanks.

[And then the feed cuts off.]

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[... He might have started stirring a little bit harder at this. Shit shit shit.]

Uh, what? What'd you say?

[Bulba frowned a bit.]

You said something about the past not being classified as 'me.' What did you mean by that?

[He was still for just a moment, before the stirring resumed. Not as frantic as before. He dumped more food onto his plate.]

I dunno... People were acting weird all week, right? But everyone was talking about how they were some one else. So whatever you, or anyone, did that week, it wasn't actually them doing that.

Oh... Yeah, I guess.

[He nodded. Crisis averted. Bulba continued to watch Green with honest curiosity.]

Do you remember anything from that week?

[Okay maybe crisis not so averted.]

[He shoved an animal sized glob of curry and rice into his mouth and spoke around the food.]

Sompf stpuff.

[And that wasn't entirely a lie-- he didn't remember how long he had spent in the shower on... any of those days. So, he didn't remember everything after all, right?]

[Curious curious curious.]

Did we meet at all? I know you had a Squirtle...

[Green stood and walked over to the sink, fiddling with some of the utensils.]

Oh? Uh, we talked. Yeah. Pretty sure we spoke?

[Again, not a lie. But it was still pretty damn hard to sound convincing, so he just made everything sound like a question.]

[Oh no, if you were done he was going to come take your plate away from you. He would be the one doing the dishes, thank you very much. But he had just gotten some food so... Bulba sat tight for the moment.]

About anything interesting? Char said we spoke too, but I didn't really ask about what at the time...

[There had been a little too much freaking out there to remember how to ask questions.]

[Unbeknownst to Bulba, Green had one of his hands firmly secured on the handle of a kitchen knife, and the other hand resting, clenched, next to it. It was foolish to think that Bulba would ever stop asking questions. But he was living in the now, and right now, if this line of questioning continued, Green was fully prepared to cut his hand open as a distraction. Reckless, sure, but wasn't that what he was known for, anyways?]

... Cooking... ?

[So, no, was the implied tone of his voice. Drop it.]

[There was a little something there that made Bulba pause. He couldn't help but think back to the night on the couch, where he knew there was something Green wasn't telling him. Bulba had left it alone then, but now it was creeping back up on him as Green danced around the questions. He furrowed his brow a little, tilting his head. Hesitantly, he pressed forward one more question.]

...Did something happen?

[Green winced right before jerking the blade of the knife horizontally down his palm-- not big enough to cause a medical emergency, but certainly enough to cause a sort of mini crisis. He let out a yelp at the pain suddenly shooting down his arm, and dropped the knife back onto the bottom of the sink with a clatter as blood began to flow freely from his right hand.]

Shit!

[Wow, that hurt a lot more than he thought it was going to. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up from the sudden rush of adrenaline. Bulba wasn't stupid, but he was loyal. It wouldn't stop the questions later, but it would do.]

Wh--!

[Green's plan for a mini crisis worked incredibly well. The sound of pain had him on his feet, and Bulba was at his trainer's side in just a few short seconds. He sucked in a sharp breath at the sight of blood, and for a second he just stared wide eyed at him. He quickly shook his head, trying to ignore the fact for the moment that this had been entirely intentional. The first aid kit was retrieved and Bulba was flipping the water on so he could rinse and sanitize that cut.]

... This is why I don't let you help out...

[Ignore the fact that his voice was shaking and maybe he wouldn't ask you what the hell you were doing.]

[He could ignore it. Green was very good at ignoring. It didn't stop the sound of the absolute bewilderment and confusion in Bulba's voice from stabbing him directly in the heart like very few others could. He let out a couple equally shaky laughs, sounding more manic than sheepish, eyes glancing at his bloody hand before darting somewhere off to the side. Anywhere to keep from looking at any of this. He wouldn't be getting any sleep tonight, he was a little horrified with himself.]

Ahahah... I'm n-no good in the kitchen anyways, just wasn't paying attention...

[Bulba said nothing at first. There was nothing he could say in the face of such a ridiculously obvious lie. Luckily the cut seemed fairly shallow. There was a brief warning as he applied the disinfectant.]

... Sorry. I shouldn't have left that out like that.

[He might have treated his trainer's hand a little too vigorously, and tugged on the bandages a little too tightly. You shouldn't have had to cut yourself with it.]

[Green was quick to answer.]

No! No, it wasn't your fault. You did nothing wrong. It was all me.

[This was so bad. It was all wrong. He essentially just stabbed himself in the back, there was very little else that could be said. He just kind of looked at his shoes in shame.]

[He shook his head.]

Leaving knives out is sloppy kitchen practice. I'll just take better care from now on.

[Bulba's fingers lingered over the knot of the bandage. Green was hiding something, and was willing to go to this sort of length to keep it quiet. That hurt. Every insecurity he was trying his best to forget was flaring up around him on full alert. What was it that Green couldn't say? Did he know about whatever it was he had done?

Bulba let go of Green's hand, turning his attention to the sink to clean up that mess.]

... Just tell me to stop next time. Please.

[Green stood there with the Ivysaur for a moment, looking down at the bandage on his hand in silence. Then, in rapid succession, he dumped the scraps on his plate into the trash, gave it a quick rinse, and put it in the drying rack.]

I'm sorry. About Kirby. And that. I'll see you later. I probably just need some sleep.

[And he was gone. He had never felt like a bigger idiot.]

[Bulba didn't move a muscle until Green had left the room. This was too much. He already felt like scum, and then Kirby had left, and then... He was losing Green too. He placed the washed knife in the drawer, not noticing the horrible clatter when he slammed it shut. Something somewhere was going to have to give.

He sucked in a deep breath, quickly passing his hand over his eyes to wipe any evidence before someone else came into the kitchen for a bite to eat.]

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