[Are you okay?]
Celty stops him by the street. It's fairly secluded, so no attention is drawn to the black biker. She puts a hand, smoke unveiling to reveal the white skin, on his upper arm in consolation. Shizuo seems to lean into the touch as if he might fall right then and there. His eyes close, emphasizing the gaunt shadows under his eyes. The blond hair is losing its usual luster. Celty is scared: his skin is close to being as pale as hers – it means she is healthy, but it can only mean for Shizuo that something is definitely wrong. It's been two weeks and Shizuo has not once been Shizuo, the friendly yet bold man she's come to know so well. Now he is merely a shadow of his former self, and it hurts her to see him die this way.
He blinks, appearing as if he's both on the verge of tears and yet has no more to shed. His voice is faint and slightly hoarse. "Yeah. I'm fine. Don't worry about–"
She cuts him off by prodding a finger hard into his stomach. Shizuo winces, even though it doesn't hurt at all. Celty brings the PDA up to his face with a shaking hand.
[Shizuo, you're too thin! You need to eat!]
"Celty, I said I'm fine."
[I can feel your ribs.]
She types another line.
[Stop trying to put on a brave face, now come with me.]
Reluctantly, Shizuo gets on the back of her motorcycle and goes along for the ride. They end up at Russia Sushi, where Celty has to practically drag him inside – not because he doesn't want to go in, but that he's simply lost the motivation to move. She gets a separate room for just the two of them. He drops down onto the cushion across from her. She reaches the PDA over.
[You're going to eat something whether you like it or not.]
He nods, dazed, and starts to finger the chopsticks on the table. When Simon enters, Celty orders today's special for Shizuo. She sees a flash of concern on Simon's face when he looks at the blond before he puts on his usual smile, hums in affirmation, and leaves them alone.
Celty claps to get Shizuo's attention. At first he doesn't hear her, so she snaps her fingers, and Shizuo's eyes lazily travel to her.
[Tell me what's wrong.]
So Shizuo tells her everything – the new work location, the building with the large window and the piano, the night he saw the pianist's back as he ran through the rain. When he comes to describe the way the pianist plays and how he only wants to help, water wells in his eyes and just a few drops fall down his cheek. Head in his hand, he never looks at Celty, not once, but seems as if he's in his own little world behind those eyes seeing and hearing every detail as he speaks. Celty may not have ears, but she uses them better than any human, nodding when it's appropriate and offering a comforting hand on his hand when he looks like he might break down. The sushi arrives, Simon doesn't say anything, and Celty pushes the tray towards him.
[Please eat.]
"Sorry, Celty, I'm not hun–"
Shizuo discovers the salt and rice and something else on his tongue as Celty takes her chopsticks and shoves a piece of sushi into his open mouth. She covers his mouth with her hand, urging him to chew, until it goes down.
"...It's sweet," he says, sounding surprised.
[Today's special is fruit sushi.]
She holds out another one. Shizuo hesitates, but eats it slowly. Then Celty types again.
[He'll come back.]
Shizuo swallows down the last of the sushi and is back to his dismal demeanor. He looks down, at the chopsticks in his hand, clicking them together. "I don't know, Celty. I don't think he is."
[A pianist like that can't stay away from a piano for very long.]
Shizuo can see her concern in the smoke that billows out from under her helmet. He forces himself to nod, to smile a little, for her. "Yeah... I suppose you're right."
Much against the blond's usually chivalrous nature, Celty insists that she pay for lunch. Simon wordlessly coaxes him to smile, miming it with his fingers as he pronounces his name in odd stresses. It's starting to get dark when they emerge from the restaurant. Celty says she has business to attend to and hops onto her motorcycle. But she leaves him one last message.
[Please take care of yourself.]
"Celty, thank you, but–"
[Don't do it for me. If anything, do it for him.]
He doesn't know exactly what to say as she speeds off into the sunset. Her words leave him dumbfounded, his own words and motivation sticking on his tongue like glue, refusing to let go and be heard. But he doesn't need anyone to hear him right now.
Shizuo knows exactly where he needs to go tonight.
