harmonize_rpg | (no subject)

Who: Baku, maybe others (Open)
What: We all grieve in our own ways
Where: Kobe, Sumaura Park
When: Sunday, May 7th

All across the network, there had been despondent posts alluding to something terrible that had happened in the time Baku was recovering, but none of it could have prepared him for word that came to him of the assembly that took place. It was all just so sudden. The gravity of the situation hadn't completely hit him when he was in the lab on the night that everything changed - in all honesty, it all still seemed like a whacked-out dream. Even summoning Shamsiel again and again, pushing himself to the limit during his training, growing acclimated to the sting of the evoker blade, it all still seemed like kendo did. He grew more powerful, but in the end, there was no lasting consequence; everyone was alive at the end of the day, with only bruises upon the body and ego to indicate that anything had taken place. But this was a bit more permanent, wasn't it? No, the adults weren't the enemy here... in fact, it was just as they had told them: this new world is dangerous.

You could have done something, if you'd been there. Maybe it wouldn't have happened. Maybe. Don't let it happen again. That's the best he could hope for, for now. The youth chuckles in a dry, cynical manner at the thought. Maybe if you weren't so weak. All of these thoughts and more continually circle about his head, visibly draining his enthusiasm for the natural sights around him in the park. The teen was dressed as he usually was on his days off from school, sporting black cargo shorts and his Laughing Man tee shirt, though perhaps slightly disheveled from the way he had hurriedly left the dorm. He tilts his head up to the clouds, leaning backwards in his seat on one of the park's many benches, closing his eyes as the rays of the sun warm his face. With the advent of Shamsiel, he felt a certain kinsmanship with the warmth that the sun brought to him, but it did little to ease his inner turmoil. His failure.

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Mirai had not the slightest interest in staying in the dorms, coming out to walk on this day as he had before. He could imagine how, in the middle of the solitude of the park, he could see Miyume strolling around their haunts. Himself, he was crawling rather than walking a hundred yards. Kept himself alone too, and used the quiet to organise his thoughts. While up ahead, on the usual place he sat down, the seat was already filled.

He pretended he actually knew Baku and cared.

"Excuse me," he said at last. And he sat on the bench's end without being invited.

Edited 2014-01-11 00:40 (UTC)

"Excuse me."

Snapped from his thoughts by a familiar voice, Baku turns to peer at Mirai taking a seat not too far away on the bench - he was the guy that Miyume was always with, right? The teen was rather ambivalent to his claim to the seat, returning to gazing back out over the nature sprawled out before him in what would have, on any other day, been a calming display. On this day, however, his mind only holds questions with no answers; he wasn't present for what happened, after all. Wait, that's right, he's got the persona with the sensory ability. Maybe Mirai's presence was serendipity; if anyone could sense what was happening, it was him.

"So what happened, senpai? You know, over there," he spoke plainly after a long moment of silence.

Mirai could not think why Baku was asking that. The idea of telling him stuck in his throat, and he had dried that out two days ago. He felt it bulge. His lips were dry and he was rolling over his reply on his lips. He leaned regally on the bench.

He said, not very willingly, "I watched somebody close to me waste away." He was surprised when he calmly told Baku, "You should not ask questions of me unless you are capable and willing to listen."

And it was clear that he was not going to tell anything else without receiving gifts. It was as if he was wanting to hear Baku's feelings in return.

His eyes search the sky, as if the answers he was looking for were there. He might be a real snake sometimes, but he's human like the rest of us. I guess he really did care for her. There was a long, silent contemplation before he spoke up.

"What else can I do? I was just helpless, recovering... I could've done something, said something, hell... I don't know what I would've done, but that's not even the point. I didn't even get to try." That's really what it was, wasn't it? His zeal was what made him strong, but it was also what prevented him from acting. His face darkens at the irony as his gaze falls to the ground.

"I can't let it happen again, I won't. So I need to know, senpai, I need to know everything so I can stop it."

At this point, Mirai dropped his arms and cradled his hands in his lap with a quiet pensive look. His ability to recall Miyume clearly was falling by the minute. His gaze went to the ground. And down below, stretched over the ground, his legs pulled into a rigid state.

"Ah well," said Mirai. "I don't want to talk about it. You know, others might. You should stick to the training. Don't you agree?"

Turn up, he thought. Ask there. Don't rely on me.

Edited 2014-01-12 21:55 (UTC)

Imaizumi-senpai's response sent a wave of disbelief and irritation through the teen. It was incomprehensible that he could just run away from something like this with such a lame point. A single word rang through his head: coward. The teen allows his head to shake gently.

"If that were all it took, we wouldn't be... here. There was something I was taught as I was beginning kendo," his gaze travels out as he recalls something from the distant past, "that it takes three aspects to be successful. Body and spirit are both good, but the mind is equally important. We don't even know what we're up against, and when I ask you, the guy with the head-thing with the most powerful senses, you just..."

He shakes his head again and frowns. "Whatever." Emotions were astir in each of the critical thinking kids, and Baku thought better of pursuing the matter further than he already had.

Baku's opinions didn't matter. Mirai stopped searching for them and put on a tight-lipped smile. His attitude wasn't just a denial - it was complete aberration of what had transpired. Being called yellow-bellied didn't scare him. Losing somebody else - that terrified him. But he was too focused on Miyume to wonder about that.

He cast a sideways glance at Baku again. His emotions grew more furious; eyebrows narrowed, breath held. Forbid he could grieve his own way! The words almost came rapid-fire out his lips.

"You don't know what you're talking about. I guide you within that place. But it's not my job to be a therapist for your emotional problems."

Mirai's response draws an irate sigh from Baku, and it was around that time that he'd wished that senpai would've kept on walking when he saw him at the bench. But that's no matter now; Baku is the one to stand up and rub his forehead in an attempt to clear his own thoughts.

"Venting your frustration on me won't do you any good. The others need protection from those things, and I have to learn as much as I can about them before the same thing happens to someone else," he faces Mirai now, staring critically as he continues, "you already know there's a lot more at stake here than your pride."

It was a different feeling; why did he feel the need to lecture Imaizumi like this? Despite attempting to calm himself, though, he couldn't help but allow some venom to seep through his tone.

"When you're ready to contribute, you know where we'll be."

Mirai took each point as Baku made it, knowing that arguing against them would be pointless. The other boy was naturally acting like he was right. He began to feel like a cornered snake.

He showed no concern or thought, for his image nor others. And his expression simply remained hidden. He had drawn his hands protectively over his knees, and now they came to rest clenched in his lap.

"... Right then," he said, dismissively saying 'farewell'.

With a dejected sigh, Baku turns to leave, treading softly down the path leading back to the main portion of the city. He'd come to find some peace in nature, and this guy was here instead... why? It had to mean something. His hand dive into his pockets as he forces himself to continue staring straight ahead, but there was still a part of him curious about why Mirai had chosen this spot. Maybe he thought he wouldn't find anyone here, just like I thought.

At least he was human, but he definitely wasn't going to be the one to solve this problem. It was hardly a turning point for Baku, but it was symbolic of something he'd suspected when he'd met the group: something would have to happen to turn them into a team. United we stand, lest we die alone... just like she did.

And so onwards he walked with this in mind.