hearts formed by solicitude and desolation | chishiya shuntaro

⌈ 1 ⌋ (edited)

ᏞᎾᎪᎠᏆNᏩ . . . . .

ᏞᎾᎪᎠᏆNᏩ ᏟᎾᎷᏢᏞᎬᎢᎬ!

"you've been buried alive in a glass coffin with a sleeping cobra on your chest."

chishiya shuntaro's attention remains entirely fixated upon the scene just outside the restaurant window, lazily following the pedestrians passing by. he provides no indication that he heard you, continuing the mindless motions of tapping his fingers idly against the side of his cup and studying the world blurring past. his lips twitch, subtly, but forever remain pressed into the ghost of a smile - always lingering, but never quite coming into fruition.

his extended silence could very well be written off as disinterest. to anyone else, his lack of an answer would be an answer in itself - his way of communicating that he cannot be bothered with expending the energy to respond. they'd probably believe him to be bored, or better yet, exhausted by the conversation taking place.

but the world does not see what you do - they do not recognize the slight tilt of his head indicating a formulating thought. they miss the miniscule furrow of his brows as if in deep concentration. they look at his eyes, dark and seemingly empty, and fail to dive deeper beneath the surface to note the curiosity simmering beneath.

"oxygen is running out. if you try to break the coffin, you'll wake the cobra," you lean forward, "what do you do?"

in a manner so slow it must be deliberate, chishiya's eyes lazily slide over to your own, like the weightless motion is an effort in itself. he pauses then, going still, those eyes dragging carefully across every inch of your features, before angling his body more subtly in your direction, "is this a riddle?"

"i prefer the term brain teaser." you quip back with a smile.

a soft laugh leaves his throat as chishiya curls his lips into a grin, sparks of delight dancing along the shape and sound. as you're ruminating on the sight, branding it to memory, he briefly looks away, settling on a point just beyond your shoulder. his tapping grows more insistent, his features a little more tense, and you imagine the gears turning in his head, creaking into use as he runs through every possible solution to your scenario.

"so?" you press, inching closer.

those eyes flicker back to your own, then down into his cup. he leans back and lifts the porcelain to his lips.

when the clink of the glass being set back down onto the table enters your ears, chishiya responds in a low, flat voice, "nothing," the words echo like a dull, worn out bell, "you do nothing."

"nothing?" you echo.

"it's impossible to survive in that situation."

you frown, disappointed, "that's not an answer, chishiya."

he shoots you a tired glance, "it's a trick. there is no answer, and trying to come up with one is useless and, frankly, a waste of time," he shrugs, and reaches for his cup once more, "the most you can do is choose the path that will cause the least amount of suffering."

as the man takes another slow, long sip, you raise your arms and cross them over to form an 'x'.

"wrong!" you exclaim, producing a sound within your throat meant to mimic a buzzer.

chishiya lifts an eyebrow, mildly amused by both your childish behavior and your contradiction to his answer, "then what do you suggest i do?"

you drop your arms and shift back into your seat, "i haven't come up with a solution yet," you admit light heartedly. chishiya snorts quietly, no doubt wanting to point out that he was right all along. you offer him a sly grin, "but that's the thing. there's always a solution," you quickly sit back up, folding your arms across the table while leaning forward, "no matter how dire a situation seems, no matter how futile it feels, there's always a way out."