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Getting out of the house was easier said than done.

Though the majority of Grayson's wounds were healing much faster than expected due to his status as a senshi, his parents were woefully ignorant of this fact. They expected Grayson to be bedridden for much longer than he was, and were constantly fawning over him and scolding him for moving around so much. He couldn't exactly show them that they had nothing to worry about without raising even more suspicion, either, so while he was at home he had to pretend to be a lot more injured than he was.

It was enough to drive him a little bit crazy. On top of everything else that had been going on, Grayson really just wanted a little bit of alone time.

That was why he'd snuck out against his better judgment, bundled in a sweater and scarf, doing his best to hide the fading scratches on his cheeks with the cheerful purple wool. He was leaning over a display of hot dogs, lips pursed as he ran his fingers over the packaging, trying to decide on the best ones.

After all, what better was was there to spend your first official paycheck than on food?

Having finally selected the package that seemed to contain the best hot dogs, Grayson was about to rise and head down to the condiments section when he was approached. He turned, blinking, and his eyes widened a little. Not because the person before him was especially startling, but because he recognized him. Azzo, though he couldn't remember his last name... he'd gone to Barren Pines, though. And he was alive, which couldn't be discounted.

Smiling suddenly, widely, Grayson nearly forgot that he'd been, well, forgotten. He passed over the hot dogs he'd just selected for himself, saying cheerfully, "Sure thing. Do you want the mild or the spicy chili?"

It was obvious he was happy to see Azzo, though he hadn't explained himself at all. In truth, it just looked like he was a remarkably friendly person.

Who had an angry cat.

Grayson's smile faded at the edges, and apprehension swam through his eyes as he turned away and reached for the mild chili. So far, he hadn't met anyone who actually wanted to talk about Barren Pines... at least, no one who'd gone there. It seemed strange to him, and frankly, he didn't want to discuss it. At all. Too much had happened, too much had been lost, and he just didn't want to think about it. He didn't think he was ready to think about it. If all that hadn't been enough, he really didn't want to talk about it with Azzo, whom he barely knew. Who it seemed like didn't even remember him, which he couldn't be blamed for, but...

Adjusting his scarf, he offered the chili, smiling again. It was a more polite smile, more impersonal than the one before had been. "Here you go. Err," he added, thinking about the question.

He had gone to Barren Pines. But he didn't want to talk about it. Still, he couldn't justify lying.

Finally, he shrugged. "Yeah. I was.. there." He adjusted his scarf again, lips pressed into a thin line for a moment. "I don't really.. want to talk about it, though."

As he spoke, he looked faintly apologetic, but firm. Grayson really didn't want to talk about it.

Grayson shifted from foot to foot, feeling a little bad for Azzo. While he didn't wish the memories of Barren Pines on anyone, he supposed if he hadn't known what had happened, he'd wonder where all that time had gone. If he started seeing people he thought he remembered, he'd probably want to find out why, too. Still, he firmly believed Azzo was better off not knowing, and he knew he was better off not rehashing the horrible details of the end of Barren Pines.

He looked down into his hand basket, hesitated a moment, and then added another pack of hot dogs. Knowing him, they'd go fast. "Oh, I've been... good."

Here he was lying, a bit, but Grayson was used to telling white lies for the benefits of others. He couldn't say things had been exactly good since Barren Pines, but they hadn't been as horrifying as the experience itself. So, it wasn't too much of a fib.

Pointing over his shoulder, he said, "I need to get condiments, so..." and began to edge that way, asking as he did, "How have you been?"

Apparently, Grayson wasn't against continuing the conversation, he just really wanted to make sure he got everything in the world to put on his dogs.

Grayson blinked. "Oh, sorry. Grayson. My name is Grayson."

He would have offered his hand, but he was busy getting relish off the shelf, and he didn't want to drop it. So, he tucked it into his basket, offered Azzo a brief smile. The broken ribs didn't sound like fun at all, but at least he was up and about. If there was one place Gray really didn't like to be, it was the hospital. He figured most people felt that way, though.

"Sorry about your ribs. You're out shopping with broken ribs?" He asked a breath later, eyebrows raised incredulously. "Shouldn't someone else be doing that for you?"

He knew his parents wouldn't let him out of the house if he had broken ribs.

"Oh." Grayson was a little bemused, because for all that his life was strange and fantastic one the one hand, he had a remarkably normal, well balanced family and school life. His parents loved each other and their children, and maybe they expected a lot from him, but what parent didn't? He wasn't a star student but he wasn't quite flunking everything (yet) so he didn't have to worry too much. Sure, his family had their arguments, but they all got along.

It was a little unsettling to know so many people whose families just didn't. He was really a lot luckier than he'd ever considered.

"Well, if it's for the best," he said easily, dismissing the topic. Azzo probably didn't want to talk overmuch about the things that were bothering him; Grayson knew he never wanted to. "Excuse me - sorry, just want to get some of that sauerkraut - thanks."

Stuffing the jar in his basket, he rocked back on his heels, raising his brows lightly. It seemed like every time he tried to start a conversation, it turned to something unpleasant. Was it just him, or Azzo, maybe? He was running out of things to talk about.

So, lamely, he said, "I like everything on my hot dogs. What about you?"

Grayson began leading Azzo toward the baking section, knowing his way around it quite well thanks to Elke. He didn't bake much personally, only when he really had to, but he knew enough to get by. He could make a mean batch of cinnamon buns in desperation, from scratch, even. He just didn't want that kind of thing getting out.

"This way... and yeah, Meadowview." He shifted his basket on his arm, reaching up to run his fingertips over his cheek. The scratches itched while they healed, which was mildly annoying. "For the rest of this year, anyway. If I can keep my grades up, I should be able to graduate... just barely, but I should be able to."

Thank God. He didn't know what he was going to do after that, but at least he had one goal in sight.