#and am scared every time i write it cuz it keeps getting autocorrected to 'hairy'

[pseudocitrus]

[ui&hairu] hc where, the first time hairu comes out with everyone for drinks, turns out to be the first time she has EVER gone for drinks.

in some ways, ui holds himself responsible for it. he’s an investigator, right? he should have guessed something was amiss when her reaction to that first glass of beer was for her to choke and spit it out in his face. instead he’d just guessed that she was used to better wherever it was she came from, and sighed, and ordered her something sweet as he rubbed his handkerchief across his face. she finished it, and could no longer sit straight.

shit.

there’s a memory now, coming back to him, rising out from the dark depths where he had shoved it, hoping never again to remember. but it hits him like a truck, this memory, an incredibly troublesome night that had started with arima spitting out a beer in his face, and continued on to ui grumbling about sensibilities and getting him a well of whisky, and, yes, concluded exactly the way things are concluding now, with him somehow managing to gather hairu from the floor and onto his back, snapping at her when she babbles out breathlessly and kicks out her legs excitedly, not bothering to take off his shoes when he enters his apartment and dumps her unceremoniously onto his bed and pulls out the futon in the other room for himself.

dammit.

“uuuuiiiii,” hairu whines. “give me more.”

“oh, you want more? sure.” he fills up a glass of water and gives it to her, and she grimaces at the first sip.

“not this.”

“drink it,” he tells her darkly, and she pouts, but polishes it off, and rubs her mouth with her forearm.

it’s uneventful, after that. no more ceaseless babbling, even, about how good the drinks are, and oh, look at that bakery, can they stop there, and oh, look at that photobooth, can they stop there??? please? please?

“haven’t you done it enough?” ui grumbles. “those things are for children.” to which hairu says, “no. i’ve only done it once, that last time we went.”

i’ve only done it once. first time taking photos, first time drinking. he mulls, lighting up a cigarette, and then glancing at her, and sighing, and putting it out. he nibbles on the end of it as he checks the pantry for rice (just enough left — great). he washes and dumps it into a pot to boil the next morning. by the time she wakes up to what he surmises is her very first hangover, the porridge is ready. he puts it on the bedside table as she starts to rouse and grimace. her whole face puckers as she holds her head.

“what...what...? my head hurts! owowow! what happened? am i going to die?”

“no,” ui tells her. “but you’ll probably wish you would.” me too, maybe, if you keep complaining.

“uuuuiiiii,” hairu cries, but he responds only by filling up her glass with more water.

“just sleep some more until it wears off,” he tells her. “or you can watch some television.”

her eyes brighten. “really?”

somehow he knew that would be exciting to her. “sure,” he says. “whatever will keep you quiet.” he hands her the remote, and then collects his ashtray from the table, and carries it to the balcony.

#uihai #headcanons #mine #ui koori #ihei hairu #i love saying hairu's name #and am scared every time i write it cuz it keeps getting autocorrected to 'hairy' #drinking cw