Imaizumi Mirai (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
burningbow) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
harmonize_rpg2013-10-22 10:42 pm
burningbow) wrote in harmonize_rpg2013-10-22 10:42 pm
Entry tags:
(no subject)
Who: Ryouya and Mirai.
Where: Kyoto.
When: Tuesday, May 2nd, early morning.
What: An unavoidable conversation.
Mirai kept a quiet foot on the stairs, but still they creaked underneath. It might have woken up the entire house. It took him a moment to climb down their steep steps - and on several times did he certainly remain still and teeter and tense, which he stopped by bracing himself by spreading his hands on the walls. It took him a long time to get to the bottom. Then he was off, showing no regard for the generations of feet that had passed first.
He began to search for the umbrella stand. He helped himself to a small parasol and hooked the handle over his arm. Then he picked up a coat, tying up the belt first, and then searching the pockets with his fingers. And he found a couple of coins. He threw his rucksack against his back when he lifted it from the floor, and still he just stood there. He was twisting back. He could hear the noise of his father moving in the kitchen. Cupboard doors and footfalls and boiling water. The radio was switched on, which was what had drawn his attention.
He groaned, then quietly headed towards the front door. A conversation was all he needed.
Where: Kyoto.
When: Tuesday, May 2nd, early morning.
What: An unavoidable conversation.
Mirai kept a quiet foot on the stairs, but still they creaked underneath. It might have woken up the entire house. It took him a moment to climb down their steep steps - and on several times did he certainly remain still and teeter and tense, which he stopped by bracing himself by spreading his hands on the walls. It took him a long time to get to the bottom. Then he was off, showing no regard for the generations of feet that had passed first.
He began to search for the umbrella stand. He helped himself to a small parasol and hooked the handle over his arm. Then he picked up a coat, tying up the belt first, and then searching the pockets with his fingers. And he found a couple of coins. He threw his rucksack against his back when he lifted it from the floor, and still he just stood there. He was twisting back. He could hear the noise of his father moving in the kitchen. Cupboard doors and footfalls and boiling water. The radio was switched on, which was what had drawn his attention.
He groaned, then quietly headed towards the front door. A conversation was all he needed.