[Hiyori's Rank 8 suite isn't enormous and lacks useful amenities such as a kitchen, but there's plenty of stuff to sort through for better or worse. If Bakugo moves to the table near the TV, he'll find some DVDs he could put away: everything from dramas and detective shows to movie musicals and aerobics videos. (The latter, of course, are Jun's.) There are a couple of pieces of exercise equipment littering the floor nearby as well. And then there's the main counter, where assorted snacks and tea and kitchen implements sit out. But hey, at least he doesn't have any of "those" types of items lying around where Bakugo could find them.
(Unless Bakugo decides to open the drawers on his nightside table in the other room, but surely he knows better, right??)
Bakugo's next words ("You want me to list the other reasons?") earn a fraction of an eyebrow raise. Meeting his challenging stare, Hiyori almost wonders if Bakugo somehow knows what he's thinking of doing. But it's more likely he's just saying that because anyone can disappear here. It's not a tragedy, like Hiyori thought originally. It's a good thing, since it means people get to leave. But even if their souls or their consciousness goes back home, the people who disappear still leave behind friends, possessions, and even pets in some cases. Hiyori's sunflowers sort of count as the latter, at least in his mind; they're plants, but they have a consciousness of their own, and he sees them sort of like pets. And anyone who knows they could have to leave at a moment's notice would be a fool not to make arrangements for their pets, right?
So, he smiles again and replies:]
No, I see your point.
[And then it's off to get his smartphone.
If Bakugo wants them to tidy up together while singing the "cleanup song" like preschoolers, Hiyori would he happy to oblige. It sounds whimsical, and just about any song will be good enough for the flowers to feed on. They don't have discerning musical taste; they just love his voice, the way that regular flowers crave sunlight. But Bakugo isn't game for it, so he just sighs.]
You never know. They might just grow fond of your voice, too, if given half the chance. Especially since they were grown by Esikko-kun, who seems quite fond of you. But since we both want to test the recordings, we'll do it in phases!
[He thumbs through his music and pulls up a song. First, he announces to Bakugo:]
We'll try one of my solos first. If that works, we'll try a duet between me and Jun-kun, and then assuming those are both good enough, we'll see how they react to a song that also has Ibara and Nagisa-kun on it. That one will only be 25% me, but since it still has my lovely voice on it, it should hopefully still be enough for them. And hearing that will get them used to hearing other voices singing, so that's a win-win.
[A "win-win" because he won't be around to sing in-person, recordings or no, and he does hope other people will be willing to try giving them a concert. For now he ends the explanation and hits Play on his bubbly first solo, letting it echo over the Goldtooth speaker.
Loudly. Very loudly. Like as loudly as one of Bakugo's explosions.]
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Date: 1/2/26 17:37 (UTC)(Unless Bakugo decides to open the drawers on his nightside table in the other room, but surely he knows better, right??)
Bakugo's next words ("You want me to list the other reasons?") earn a fraction of an eyebrow raise. Meeting his challenging stare, Hiyori almost wonders if Bakugo somehow knows what he's thinking of doing. But it's more likely he's just saying that because anyone can disappear here. It's not a tragedy, like Hiyori thought originally. It's a good thing, since it means people get to leave. But even if their souls or their consciousness goes back home, the people who disappear still leave behind friends, possessions, and even pets in some cases. Hiyori's sunflowers sort of count as the latter, at least in his mind; they're plants, but they have a consciousness of their own, and he sees them sort of like pets. And anyone who knows they could have to leave at a moment's notice would be a fool not to make arrangements for their pets, right?
So, he smiles again and replies:]
No, I see your point.
[And then it's off to get his smartphone.
If Bakugo wants them to tidy up together while singing the "cleanup song" like preschoolers, Hiyori would he happy to oblige. It sounds whimsical, and just about any song will be good enough for the flowers to feed on. They don't have discerning musical taste; they just love his voice, the way that regular flowers crave sunlight. But Bakugo isn't game for it, so he just sighs.]
You never know. They might just grow fond of your voice, too, if given half the chance. Especially since they were grown by Esikko-kun, who seems quite fond of you. But since we both want to test the recordings, we'll do it in phases!
[He thumbs through his music and pulls up a song. First, he announces to Bakugo:]
We'll try one of my solos first. If that works, we'll try a duet between me and Jun-kun, and then assuming those are both good enough, we'll see how they react to a song that also has Ibara and Nagisa-kun on it. That one will only be 25% me, but since it still has my lovely voice on it, it should hopefully still be enough for them. And hearing that will get them used to hearing other voices singing, so that's a win-win.
[A "win-win" because he won't be around to sing in-person, recordings or no, and he does hope other people will be willing to try giving them a concert. For now he ends the explanation and hits Play on his bubbly first solo, letting it echo over the Goldtooth speaker.
Loudly. Very loudly. Like as loudly as one of Bakugo's explosions.]