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[it is something!! wow, a good thing in this hellscape, who'da thunk it? Manabu's impressed to his own degree -- of course, he can't understand the whole scope of what makes James the man he is now, and certainly doesn't know the value of a peaceful moment and letting it happen in his regard, but there is an unconscious resonance that comes when two people in a harrowing situation can find some relief. the tangled wire of tension around people's throats and hearts eases up a bit, makes breathing easier. makes trust easier.

not that Manabu needs much help with trusting folks, but, maybe in James' case...]

Lemme guess: Don't tell anyone, or else?

[Luckily, the allusion to him being dangerous doesn't make the smile disappear again, it just makes a hollow sounding huff escape his lips.]

Pretty sure there's nobody would be interested even if you did tell them.

[Except Steve, and he highly doubts that Manabu is going running to Steve to tattle about Bucky making friends and smiling.]

[he makes a thoughtful sound at that, pushing his cards back toward James to be reshuffled.]

Does that mean you've not been talking to many other Sleepers here?

[He obediently starts to shuffle them again, not looking particularly abashed as he answers.]

In case you ain't noticed, I'm not really the social type.

[yeah, no arguments there. but.] I kinda figured that'd make you more of a target. [head tilt.] Like how...people who don't like cats or dogs wind up finding themselves being followed by them? Is that a thing where you're from?

[He raises an eyebrow, unimpressed.]

Are you calling me a cat, or the people who might try and talk with me?

I, uh-- [beat. blink.]

...I guess...either or? I don't know a lot about cats, honestly.

[He deals the cards again with a slight shake of his head at Manabu's idiocy.]

Either way, no, people don't tend to talk to me.

[he makes a faint noise through his nose, feeling the little beat of sheepishness...and letting it go.]

And I guess...you don't really feel up for it in turn, huh. [whether that's part-in-part with the hell he's been through, or just disposition is...hard to know for sure. Manabu sure as hell isn't a psychologist! he can only assume unless told otherwise, and even then.]

...Then what kept you from decking me the first time I chatted you up? I mean, you looked about to, I guess, but.

I don't hit people just for talking to me.

[He sounds just the tiniest bit offended at that. He might be dangerous, but he's better than that, at least most of the time.]

I just don't encourage people to get close, it's safer that way.

[because of the arm. and the whole...

...yeah. in hindsight, kind of obvious, isn't it? jeez. Manabu's learned a lot in a short amount of time, but it's just only gradually sinking in outside of dire moments.

Manabu falls into a thoughtful silence, staring at the cards he's been dealt for a moment before just scooting the last single coin available to him.]

[He waits for some sort of snappy comeback, or for some of Manabu's irritating optimism about teamwork or making friends, when it doesn't come... it's a little bittersweet. Good to know the other man believes him, sad to know he thinks it's true too.

He pushes one of his own coins in to match Manabu's bet and switches out two of his own cards.]

...if you don't want me to come round any more, I won't.

[If he's just now realising that it would be safer if Bucky stayed away.]

Ha, no way.

[he doesn't even look up to retort with that, mouth tugging on one side. when he does look up, he smirks.]

It's too late for you now, James. You even gave me an address to poke at if I don't hear from you, so you may as well accept this bit of fate for what it is. [the smirk is more of a grin, now:] So as long as I don't wind up becoming a threat, you can call me a friend.

[There's a very long moment of silence as Bucky just watches Manabu, fingers frozen over the cards he'd be about to pass over to the other man.]

I haven't had a friend for-- since before.

[Seventy years without a friend, without even being human. It's stupid to be hesitating over this, he's given the other man an address and they've saved each other, they're-- they must be. But it feels like another forbidden boundary to cross, and it's strangely hard to acknowledge aloud.]

I don't think I remember how.

Eheh... [he shakes his head a little, doing a card swap and wincing a bit. these cards are crap.] I think you can get a handle on it. Either way, you're getting a couple thousand Ables out of it, apparently... [he sighs, setting the cards on the table face-up.] I fold.

Idiot.

[It's not said with any vehemence, more tired fondness than anything else. The lightness with which Manabu is treating this, as if it's no big deal to make a friend for the first time in decades, helps a lot. It finally loosens him enough to put his own cards face up. He didn't have much, just a pair, but since Manabu has folded he still wins.]

But okay. Friends.

[What a strange moment this is. He pushes most of the coins back at Manabu, even if he won them, only keeping one that he slips into his pocket.]

[that gets a pleased sound from Manabu, who doesn't bother to argue when coins are pushed back his way; he sees one is missing, and that seems fair. just means he has something to play with next time.

he pushes his crap-cards away and pockets his money, slumping back in his seat. that killed...what, an hour? maybe? of...however long he's being advised to sit tight here? how long is he supposed to sit tight here, actually?

instead of whining about that, though, a stray thought drops into his head, makes his eyebrows lift.] Hey-- If some stuff on your time and planet are the same as what I learned about...Does that mean you guys had baseball?

Yeah.

[That was a weird change in subject, but at least it's something he knows the answer to. He even has some very vague memories of going to a Dodger's game, sneaking past the turnstile because he didn't have the fare to get inside.]

You mean baseball survived all these centuries and made it out into space?

[relieved:] So your Earth isn't completely doomed! That's a relief... So that's...three things? Four. [he looks up, thinking.] The war, the trains, planes, baseball...

That's how you measure if a place is doomed? Baseball?

[Seriously, man? Not medical advancements or landmark peace treaties, but a dumb sport.]

[with a laugh:] I said not completely doomed! And what's wrong with that? It's just the best sport ever invented...I'm glad that seems to be the common link so far.

You really are an idiot.

[He sets the freshly shuffled cards face down in a deck and pushes to his feet.]

You oughta eat something, in case whatever happened wasn't the town.

Eh? [blink.] Oh. I...I guess so.

[he sits up, pushing his chair back and climbing to his feet to mosey around the kitchen. what does Amara keep in here, huh?

he squats down by some cabinets near the stove. with a sigh:] Dunno of an old-timey town like this is going to have stuff for udon. So far all the noodles I've seen around are for pasta-things...

Sit back down.

[It's not said with any vehemence, but it is very clearly an order.]

I'll get you something, and then you oughta get some sleep. I shouldn't stay too much longer anyway, Steve... he's gonna wonder where I am. He... he might think I'm out hurting people again.

[Not a nice thought, but given how he showed up on the other man's doorstep, also not an unfair one.]

[Manabu blinks, glancing over his shoulder.

after a beat:] Auh...mm. Okay. [he gets up, dusting off his knees.

he nods, eyes flickering from the cards to James.] Thanks for sticking around as much as you did, though.

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