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"You know you can add sweetener to that, right?" Loki pulls out the chair next to him and sits down. "I can tell you don't like it."
Hugo hums, the sound buzzing against his throat. The milky-grassy concoction lingers on his tongue, causing his lips to twitch back with distaste. But even in this, there must be reason, maybe a purpose. A lesson to be learned, that is. While they're in Tokyo, they all figured it would be nice to go out as a group and explore the city. For breakfast, they wound up at a cafe and luckily for them, they were able to secure a clean table outside with a cover from the sun. Loki always orders the same thing when they go out, but Hugo likes trying local drinks. Charles was still inside, having ordered the most complicated drink on their menu.
"It's grassy," he answers.
"Yeah?"
Hugo pauses. "Bitter too. Makes me think. I'll finish it." That, and because the drink cost ¥1,000.
"Suit yourself." Loki sighs, and leans back in his chair. "Hey, we have to do something else. I think Charles might accidentally give himself a heart attack with that… sugar-water that he's drinking. Should I have allowed him to get that?"
"I think he would have finagled it no matter."
Loki smiles at him. "You have your moments."
"It's the matcha," he says. "It's making me think. Consider my place in the world." Perhaps that's what he gets for his money, but if he said that out loud Loki might think he's joking.
"… Sure. Besides thought-provoking beverages, is there any place you want to go?"
Before he can answer, Charles materializes from thin air at their sides. Hugo can feel him vibrating, and prepares himself for a long day with Charles on a sugar high.
"Look look look!" He shouts, and points to the armful of colorful boxes in his arms. He's also balancing a pink… Drink, he supposes. It doesn't look like it should count as one. "Some fans found me and gave us these Labubus! Aren't they so cute? I've seen these a lot online!"
Blindboxes. Oh, now that's a treat. Charles has an affinity for them, ever one fascinated by chaos. He has a small collection of them at home, creepy-cute dolls and statuettes decorating his club room. The truth is, though, that Hugo likes them too. He finds that the random nature of the blindbox is a good test of his philosophy. He doesn't collect them, it's mostly just the idea of them. He isn't sure where he'd even find them.
And now, one has landed right in his lap.
Charles hands them out. His is a little frayed at the edges, as if it had been passed around a bit before being handed to him. He would have thought it had been opened, if not for the weight of the Labubu inside.
"Wow, these are hideous," Loki snorts.
"Nuh-uh!" Charles whines, gluing himself next to him by scooting his chair close. He's the touchy-feely type. "They're cute! I need one for my bag!"
"Whatever. Do I have to open one?" Loki looks to Hugo for support, but Hugo…
"It can't hurt," says Hugo. "We should do it."
"Yes!" Charles cheers and points at him, emoting. "You get it!"
Hugo raises an eyebrow in a silent challenge to Loki.
Loki sags in his seat. "Fine, I'll keep it." He tears open the tab quickly, nimble fingers pulling at the packaging to yank the key chain from it's plastic cage. Hugo shifts to the edge of his seat, anticipating which one he would get. The side of the box displays a handful of colorful monsters, each labeled in a language he can't read. He imagines they're inspirational names that embody the essence of each color. Beloved. Contentment. Fidelity. Tranquility. Ambition. Destiny.
The one he pulls out is red.
"You got Destiny," Hugo points out.
Loki tilts his head, face scrunched with confusion. "You can read Japanese?"
Hugo doesn't answer that. "It suits you. Wear it with pride."
Loki's mouth falls open, just a sliver. Is it with admiration? Understanding?
Before Hugo can prod, Loki pulls out his phone, opens google translate, and snaps a picture of the side of the box. He inspects the names as they've been translated. Never mind that the translations may be inaccurate, because Loki levels him with a look.
"You are such a fucking liar."
"What?" Charles perks up. "What, is it not Destiny? Ooh—"
Loki makes a shut up gesture at Charles. "You can't just make shit up!"
"Destiny enough to me," Hugo says. Loki rolls his eyes. "What does it say?"
"Love," Loki says flatly.
"You could say love is destiny," he responds. "So I don't think I was wrong. Do you disagree?"
"I'm gonna open mine now, okay?" Charles cuts in before Loki can answer. He really does want to know Loki's perspective on it, however, but it doesn't seem like he's very interested in answering his question. Loki always evades his philosophical questions. It's for the best, all things considered, that he doesn't know he's the embodiment of his personal philosophy.
He isn't paying attention to Charles as he unwraps his own, from the same set that Loki's (and apparently, Hugo's) key chain is from. He rips out a bright yellow creature that matches the gold of his hair. He waves it around in the air, then pokes Loki for the translation of it's name.
"Joy," Loki says, looking at his phone.
"Perfect! Maybe this is destiny!" At least Charles is pleased, playing with the toy and maneuvering it's legs and arms into ridiculous poses. Knowing him, he's gonna find the thing clothes to dress it up. It's the perfect companion for him.
"Your turn, Hugo. Which one do you think is your 'destiny?'"
In his mind, he would get the same one as Loki. Instead, he says, "Ambition."
"And that one is…?"
"The purple one."
"That one's Luck. Are you particularly lucky?"
Hugo doesn't respond. He stares at Loki as he unboxes his own, silent as he pulls out the plush. The weight of anticipation brings in all of their attention, so Hugo is purposefully a touch slower than he would normally be. Should he get the one he really wants, he would be laughed at. If he gets Luck, then his ideology would fail him then and there. A game of chance, and he's currently at the center. Somehow, it feels important. He can feels the plush synthetic fur in his hand, and tugs it all the way out. He hears a gasp.
He looks down.
It's red.
Vindication swells inside of him, and—
"Wait a minute," Charles says, breaking the silence. "What's wrong with it's eye?"
Hugo gives it another look. At second glance, his is… Well, it's all wrong. There's paint smeared on it's cheek. The eyes are completely asymmetrical, somehow less designed than Charles' or Loki's doll. Even the hands are off, the plastic melted together. It looks terrible.
"Not—" Loki covers his mouth, trying to hold back what Hugo assumes is laughter. "N-not lucky at all, I guess."
"A lafufu," Charles nods sagely, closing his eyes in mock sympathy. "I've heard of those. You got duped, man."
"You got duped!" Loki smacks Charles on the shoulder lightly. Then he turns back to Hugo. " You know, I don't think anybody would notice if they're not looking closely at it. Here, we kind of match."
"… We do," he agrees, lightly. He can't help but be disappointed at the outcome.
"Two bad souvenirs in one day." Loki shakes his head. "Let's see if we can head to a bookstore. They might have some nice journals."
"Oh," Hugo says. "That sounds nice."
"Yeah, let's make up for it!" Charles says, already getting up. He can never sit in one place for very long.
Loki smiles at him. Truthfully, he doesn't feel so bad about getting a Lafufu, or whatever it is Charles said they were called. He thinks it's meaningful in a way, still the same shade of Destiny as Loki.
The same, but different, his mind reasons. Still his destiny after all, more than any of them could ever know. That brings a small, satisfactory smile to his face. Nobody else needed to understand but him.
But he does throw out that matcha on his way out. He's thought enough about his place in the world for one day.