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"Yuudai! Where are you going?"

Ignoring, for the time being, his elder sister's skeptical look, Yuudai slid a pair of chopsticks into the pocket of his apron and deftly knotted the tie atop his bento box. Normally, he would have taken much more time and care to prepare a meal, and this much was obvious simply by looking at it -- he'd selected a simple white cloth, and there was no evidence of recent cooking in the kitchen. Though he was still dressed from his day's work, Masami knew very well that he'd been cleaning and not milling about the kitchen, so she had every reason to be suspicious of him.

Tucking the box under one arm, he turned, gaze passing over his sister's face briefly before he began to stride past her. Masami didn't approve of his ventures outside, mostly because twilight would be settling soon and she worried, but there was little he could do to ease her mind. He wouldn't lie to her, because he loved her and respected her, but he also wouldn't take her advice and leave well enough alone.

"Are you going to feed that bum?" Her brows drew together, and he sighed. "You are, aren't you? Yuudai, it's getting late."

"And whoever it is, will be hungry." In his opinion, it was as simple as that. The food he'd packed were leftovers, which would have surely been eaten for breakfast if they had been left alone, but they could be put to better use immediately. If necessary, he would simply have a light breakfast to compensate, which he was certain would appease even his practical-minded sister.

She wasn't heartless, but she had a head for business, and she considered his donations to the hungry to be an unnecessary expense. It was one of the few things they disagreed on.

Reaching out, she gripped his shoulder, turned him toward her. Searching his face, she pursed her lips, then rolled her eyes. "Be back soon. Don't dawdle, little brother."

He lifted his shoulders, saying briskly, "I'll be as quick as I can. Tell Shizuka not to wait up, please."

Her muttering behind him, he strode quickly down the hall, folding one of the spare blankets over his arm as well as removing the first-aid kit from the hall closet. One could never be certain exactly what they were getting into, after all, when it came down to a man starving in an alley. Masami thought he was too soft-hearted, and tried to discourage people from coming around and telling him about the plethora of hungry people lingering around the inn, but they did so anyway.

She insisted it was bad for business. He insisted it was bad for the soul to deny them.

On his way through the kitchen again he locked eyes with her, nodded, and accepted the thermos she held out. Because he'd known that she wouldn't be able to completely hold out, he smiled, leaned over and kissed her cheek. "Thank you."

"Be safe." She tugged on his hair, and he slipped out the back door.

His informant had specified an alley he knew well, mostly because it was close to the local businesses without directly resting between any of them and was therefore a favorite for beggars. The sun was still in the sky, though sinking quickly, so he kept his pace brisk and business-like. On occasion he passed someone he knew, nodded and exchanged a few polite words, but for the most part, he was left alone.

Seeing Koga Yuudai walking along with a blanket and a bento usually meant he was en route somewhere, after all.

Turning the corner, he peered down the alley, waiting for his eyes to adjust to the dimmed lighting. Sure enough, there was a figure slouched against the wall; whether or not he was truly starving was impossible to tell, but Yuudai didn't hesitate.

Adjusting the burden in his arms, he began to speak as he approached. "Are you awake? Sit up, if you please, I have some food and a blanket here."

Pleased that he wasn't going to have to revive the man before he fed him, Yuudai wasted no time in closing the distance between them and lowering himself to the ground. It was dirty and unpleasant, but then, he imagined it was moreso for the individual before him. He wasn't complaining, was he? No, and so Yuudai would not, either. There were more important matters at hand.

Legs crossed, he set the first aid box and thermos to his right, deeming them less necessary than the bento box at just that moment. Despite being in an alley as it neared dark, the man didn't seem to be in as dire circumstances as had been relayed to him, except for the fact that he was hungry. That was good, because it meant Yuudai could take care of him quickly and then get home, hopefully before the sun went down.

Cupping the sides of the cloth-bound box, he offered it, expression serious but not unwelcoming. "Here, food, and I have a thermos of tea, and chopsticks in my pocket."

Yuudai's hand was halfway to his pocket for the aforementioned chopsticks when the man disregarded the need for them and simply began eating with his hands. One eyebrow slowly hiking to his hairline, he watched with the faintest traces of horror on his face, his hand slipping into the pocket of his apron to curl needlessly around the chopsticks. It wasn't that he'd never seen someone eat messily before, simply that he hadn't expected it.

He supposed he should have, given how dirty and bedraggled the man looked. He had obviously been on the streets for days, judging by his gnarled hair and soiled clothing. Not only that, but as close as he was, Yuudai came to the distinct impression that he hadn't seen the right side of a bath in at least a handful of days.

Well, he'd cleaned up sorrier looking people. Wordlessly, when he reached a break in his feasting, he passed the thermos over. Though he'd thought that the food he'd packed would be enough, he got the faint impression that he'd underestimated the man's appetite. It was on the tip of his tongue to caution him to eat slower, but he seemed to be fine, so he refrained.

Hands laced on his lap, he schooled his expression to a neutral one, lips pressed firmly together as the man finished eating and asked about a tent. A tent? He lived in a tent? It was better lodgings than many he'd encountered in this alley, but it certainly was not around. And had he seen it lately? Really, did his tent often move around without his knowledge or assistance?

Briefly wondering if the other man had a fever, he nevertheless said crisply, "No, I have not seen your tent. You may, however, come with me. My family runs an Inn, and we've a spare room or two."

A few drops of water fell, sneaking down the back of his shirt, and he shuddered. Rain. Lifting the blanket, he offered that next, adding, "Or you may have this blanket if you would prefer the alley."

Satisfied that the man could at least see some kind of sense, Yuudai stood as well, brushing his hands along the seat of his pants as he did so. He gathered the supplies he'd brought with him, straightening and looking unimpressed as he realized the difference in their height. It was a constant source of irritation to him that he and Junko stood toe-to-toe, eye-to-eye as far as height went, but the difference in height presented to him just then was downright disheartening.

He knew he was a slight, somewhat effeminate man, but he didn't like to be so starkly reminded of it. He comforted himself by comparing the other man to a bear; big, burly, and dirty.

"Here, take this." Without waiting for a response, he tossed the blanket over the other's shoulders, fussing with it for a moment. The rain began to fall with a little more regularity, and he hunched his shoulders inward, wishing that he'd thought to grab a jacket. His apron was substantial, but didn't do much to ward off a chill.

One arm clutching the boxes and thermos, he used the other to smooth his ponytail down as he began walking. Without waiting to see if he would be followed, assuming it was a given, he said, "This way. It is not a long walk."

They'd made it back just in time to escape the worst of the rain, and he was thankful for that. His clothes were wet and uncomfortable, and if he didn't get dry, he would catch a chill himself. Still, his first priority was Bataar, given he had clearly been at the mercy of the elements longer than Yuudai ever had in his entire life. Under the lights in the kitchen, it was obvious just how unkempt his most recent rescue really was, and it was all Yuudai could do to keep himself from stripping him down right there before he contaminated any other part of the house with his filth.

Taking one slow, deep breath, he peered up at the other man's somewhat frightening face, once again annoyed to be a full head shorter. He should not have to look up to someone in his own home, he thought testily.

"You are sleeping no where looking like that." Lifting one slender finger, he pointed a blue-tipped nail at the other man, but hesitated before actually poking him. It hovered in front of his chest, not nearly as menacing as he would have liked it to be. "The first order of business is to get you bathed and in clean clothes."

Reaching behind himself, he began to untie his apron, sure that there would be no complaints. After all, he'd just rescued the man from an absolutely disgusting alley -- he would no doubt be eager for a bath.

Disbelief was clear on his face when his head snapped back up, hands fumbling off the tie on his apron. It was soaked, and knotted, and would have been difficult to navigate even if he hadn't been startled by the other man's declaration. Not bathe? What sort of person would choose a night out in an alley, surrounded by filth and disease, over a warm bath in a respectable inn?

A little offended, he brought his hands up, then planted them on his hips, dogging the other man's steps. He might have been bigger than him, but it didn't occur to Yuudai to be wary of his fists; in a perfect world, you did a good thing for a person and they repaid you in kind. Until something showed him otherwise, he was going to believe that the nameless man in front of him was a good person, and so suspicion of bodily harm didn't even cross his mind.

"You are certainly not going back into the alley." He rarely yelled, but he got his point across nonetheless in the steel under his tone. "It is filthy, wet, and you will catch your death of cold. The very idea is ridiculous."

Had he been a bystander, he might have been amused by the pseudo-dance they were performing; Bataar would back up, and he would follow, the tips of his shoes inches from the other man's.

Yuudai could not believe he was having to argue with someone about taking a bath. This man was dripping mud all over his family's ryokan -- a classy inn, a valued establishment, a place that people paid well to visit -- and he was honestly considering going back out into an alley. Yuudai might be able to forgive him if he was unaware of the hot springs that the inn was built over, but the chances of that were slim. More than that, he was baffled at the idea that anyone would want to be dirty. It was unhealthy, promoted sickness, repelled good people... there was absolutely no good reason not to bathe.

He opened his mouth, closed it, and looked away a moment. Gathering his thoughts, he cast unamused eyes back on Bataar, his right foot beginning to tap a steady beat against the floor. "Why would you want to take a bath? I should have thought it would be obvious."

Despite his words, he explained, lifting one hand palm-up and sweeping it around the room. "If you bathe, aside from the obvious benefits of being clean and warm, which will help prevent a cold, you will be allowed to stay in this elegant establishment free of charge for one night. In the morning, we will have breakfast and then I will help you find your tent, wherever it may have wandered to."

His tone was full of skepticism at the last, and he arched one blue eyebrow. Tents did not just up and walk away themselves, after all. "I am not willing to drag you out of an alley tomorrow morning, however, if you refuse my generosity tonight. I find that extremely rude."

The truth of the matter was, and anyone who knew Yuudai could have attested to this, that he would more than likely go out the next day to find this man if he chose to leave. He would not be happy about it, but his conscience wouldn't allow him to just completely abandon him.

But the man didn't need to know that.

When he abruptly gave up the fight, Yuudai was suspicious. An odd light came into his eyes, one that should have sent off some kind of warning bells in the back of his mind, but only served to make his brow furrow. Silence was better than arguing, certainly, unless he was using the time to prepare a strategy for escape. Though he hadn't known this man much longer than an hour, Yuudai felt that he was something of his responsibility, as he often did with the people he found and fed; he just wouldn't rest easy unless he'd taken proper care of him.

Eyes narrowed, he drew his bottom lip in, chewed on it a moment. Standing in silence wasn't going to do anything for either of them, however, and he was getting colder by the moment.

Not to mention, if he didn't get this man into the bath and subsequently in bed soon, someone else was going to come into the kitchen and see the holy mess that he'd made of it. They would not be impressed -- he was not impressed -- and it would just be better all around if he was able to clean it quickly and then head to bed.

Slowly, because he was uncertain if there was going to be more argument, he said, "You are taking a bath." It wasn't a question; Junko often told him that he was awfully bossy for such a slight person, but he ignored her.

Shifting his weight to one leg, he gave the other man a significant look, as if asking for his next counter.