Hidden 5 yrs ago 5 yrs ago Post by AdmrlStalfos19
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AdmrlStalfos19 Undead. Not Updated

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Every step she took into the building made Tsurushi continually less and less comfortable. The smell of that first floor specifically was enough to almost make her hurl. Between that, the graffiti and all the crap that was on the floor, it was clear that that entire structure had seen better days... most likely right when it had first opened. How Hitsu could zone this out every time she had to go to work, Tsurushi didn't know. But what she did know was that this was the first thing she was gonna have to bring up.

Tsurushi breathed a sigh of relief when she actually made it into the lobby area. She sat down and waited, reading one of the magazines that was on the table to alleviate the boredom. She found a recipe in one of the cooking magazines that looked interesting enough, and had just snapped a picture of it on her phone when she heard someone talking in the other room, although she couldn't make out what they were saying from where she was sitting. It would be rude of her to just enter while therapy was in session but, since she couldn't ascertain that that was what was going on, Tsurushi put the magazine down and positioned herself closer to the door.

She made sure she wasn't right up to the door where she'd be in the way when it opened, but she leaned in a little to the right of the doorway with one ear too the wall, if only so she could possibly learn what being said on the other side.

...

Well, that was the plan at least, but by the time she decided to try and put it into action it was all over. A man had exited the room in which the conversation had taken place, and now it was Tsurushi's turn to enter it. Hitsu had noted that she was a "bit" earlier, which an understatement considering she had a whole hour still, but she seemed OK. Tsurushi took a seat on the couch provided.

And so her therapy official began.

"Well... I've just started my new job," she began, "I teach in grade school now."

She tried to smile, but it refused to hold. She was obviously thinking of her failed endeavor with Tamiko. She considered putting that experience out there in the open, but Tsurushi ultimately decided to let that thought stew for a moment. She'd see if Hitsu would pick up on it.

Hidden 5 yrs ago 5 yrs ago Post by banjoanjo
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banjoanjo Still likes pistachios

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SOU MIYANE - Southern District: Galaxy

Even if the concert had been a cacophony of same-rhythmed rabble, it was difficult to forget the boy before her. Dissonant piercings, striking hair. The type of look she and Daehyun fawned over in their youth, when that punk-emo stuff was all the rage.

No wonder he liked the kid.

A wince cut through the façade when Yuudai used the stage name, noticeable for a more excruciating second when he mentioned the ‘earlier works’. She covered with a quick bow of her own.

“Oh, thank you. They’re…”

---

Yujin rapped on the doorframe, raising an eyebrow at the scene inside.

“<<What’s with her?>>”

Sooyoung stopped prodding the sullen mass under the blanket. Miyane could hear her trying to suppress her grin.

“<<They just made her listen to the next title track.>>”

“<<I’m MOURNING,>>” Miyane shrieked from her fortress of solitude, the other two girls soon choking from laughter.


---

“They’re certainly classics,” she chuckled gracefully.

Her smile was far too stiff.
Hidden 5 yrs ago Post by Asuras
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WHAM.

Mana barreled into the wall back as a solid object slammed upon her windpipe. She gasped for breath in the split second she had before her back hit the solid surface. Mana cried out in pain, whimpering as the tables so suddenly turned violent. She clasped at her throat, eyes wincing as the girl continued her assault with words. Through tears she looked up, pain written in a spin around her face.

"You... you didn't hear me calling your name?" she asked with a hoarse voice. The exhaustion she had been powering through was apparent in her chest and breath. Setting a hand aside, she tried to dislodge herself, pressing against the wall. "Hanami. I saw you on the train. Look I just... wanted to talk. Do you really not remember me?" she asked. Her tone had become a mixture of frustration and sadness, already lamenting that she might have been able to save herself this sprint and clothesline if she'd just been more upfront and approachable.

"I'm an acquaintance of your boyfriend -of Kouta?" Mana said, trying to jog Hanami's memory. She let out a precautionary cough, as if afraid that Hanami might have severely damaged something, and was testing it out. "He's worried about you. Where have you been? He says you haven't responded to anything!" Mana protested, grasping Hanami's arm with her other hand and trying to wrench it off. Even if she had frightened the girl into feeling so cornered, Mana wasn't about to just play guilty and let Hanami continue hurting her.
Hidden 5 yrs ago Post by OwO
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The show was loud and bombastic. In some ways, it reminded Marina of her old life. Before it all happened. It was all just meaningless aesthetics, though. The comparisons of fighting people on a professional stage and manic-punk-metal started and ended at passion. One band played after another. Marina would be lying if she said that she didn't enjoy it. Even though she wasn't one for watching this kind of thing, she could easily see why people enjoyed it. It almost made her forget. Almost.

The last band to play was what that host had told her: the Quartermasters. He played the drums. His hair was the same. His face was the same. His piercings were the same. Everything was the same. Everything. For the entire set, Marina froze. Bravery was fleeting. Simple images and dreams of revenge were nothing compared to seeing him in the flesh.

It was him.

He was there. Watching her, as she was frozen. He participated. That old, dull kitchen knife piercing her skin. He cut deep into her stomach with that knife. Up and down it went, recklessly tearing skin and flesh with great effort. He was the one. The suffering seared her assailants into her mind/ He killed her. Her pulse wavered as her blood flowed out of her wounds. He opened her flesh. He curiously poked around inside, just to see what was going on. He was her killer. Along with the rest of them, they watched and laughed as her arms and legs were taken as trophies. It was his fault. She just couldn't die; not just yet. No, it was all of their fault.

Hurk...

Her hand was already covering her mouth. She could barely hear Yasuo. Not over that ringing. She couldn't see. Light was dark. Everything was fuzzy. It was difficult to make sense out of any sort of shape. She had to get out. She ran out of Galaxy. The second she left that building, her mouth opened to unleash a torrent of undigested booze. No, it wasn't sickness or drunkenness. It was reflex. She remembered what happened.

But she couldn't stop because of it. She still had something she needed to do. It didn't matter who was there. She had to continue. So she steeled herself and walked back in. She might be able to catch him after he left talking to those girls. That's what she thought, anyways. What did Yasuo say again? Something about the plan?

"Letting what happens happen." She faintly choked out.
Hidden 5 yrs ago 5 yrs ago Post by Savo
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Savo Time to go to Hell

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"Akira Ishikawa"

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Southern District - Galaxy

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Miwa


Well, that was a certainly interesting event to say the least. He was between half enjoying it due to one event or another and half going deaf in the process when standing behind an amplifier when a particularly ear-splitting riff reverberated through it. But outside of that, it was pretty exciting, with the highlight of it all for it all getting nearly scalped by someones shoe, with the second dodging a pair of broken drum sticks without using his time stop as a second.

At the end of it all, he stood there, adrenaline pulsing through his veins as he watched the crowds funnel out of the area, leaving behind turned over chairs, scattered wrappers and one or two drinks, and so on. And for the most part, he wanted a drink.

He stood there for a brief second, a sweat drenched statue to the empty stadium, before crouching down and taking a seat against the fence. His ears were ringing, his mouth parched, and the energy drink situated a couple of inches away, not even half-way finished. And yet, even with his dry lips, he was smiling.

Of course, Miwa shook the boy from his reverie, complimenting the boy on keeping the fence up before handing him some water, as well as a trash bag and trash picker. Taking the bottle and placing the two other items to the side, he removed the top and downed the whole thing in one fell swoop before crushing it and tossing it next to the energy drink. "Thanks."

With that being said, looks like he wasn't going to be able to ditch this joint juuuuust yet. Grabbing the two, he sighed before whipping his forehead off again and began picking at the trash the masses had left behind in their wake. As he did so, he lingered near the stage as he collected the rubbish; one thing was definitely on his mind and he wanted answer.

"So, Miwa, when didja' figure it out?"
Hidden 5 yrs ago Post by ERode
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Western District
But rather than any elucidation, Mana’s words only caused more confusion to surface, the taller girl letting her shake her off. Taking a couple steps back and clutching her bag to her chest again, she narrowed her eyes, brown eyes sweeping over Mana’s neckline, her cuffs. Then, they widened. Her cheeks burned, embarrassment and genuine remorse showing. The blame went both ways. Mana perhaps could have been more approachable, but she could have simply listened instead of merely hearing.

“Oh,” was her first word, followed by, “Oh, oh, oh! Gosh, I’m so sorry, I thought you thought I was like, geez, are you ok?” She winced, taking another step back until it was her back against the wall. “Like, uh, you musta mistook me for someone else, cause I’m Kiwa Usui, not Hanami...and I don’t have a boyfriend either, so…”

Her voice trailed off afterwards.

Gee, this was awkward, huh.

Southern District
Hisui nodded, her eyes meeting Tsurushi’s. “Children are crude at the best of times,” she said, “Cruel at the worst. But in the end, they’re simply children. They say what they think, but rarely what they mean.”

She crossed her legs, reclining against her chair. “They’ll warm up to you through time, not effort.”




“Yeah,” Yuudai responded brightly, not minding the stiffness of Miyane’s expressions, “They really were classics! Still give InComplete a listen sometimes, and it’s always as rockin’ as always.”

Daehyun laughed drily from the side. “Nori, chill. You’re hemorrhaging respect by the second here.”

“Hey, I’m just happy to see that MiA’s alive n healthy, ya frigid bastard,” the monochrome drummer shot back, before slapping his pants for a pen. “By the way, MiA, would it be too much trouble to ask you for, uh, an autograph?”

“Definitely losing it all now.”



“Marina!”

Pushing past people disgusted by his friend’s sudden vomiting, Yasuo skidded to a stop beside her, even as his own eyes darted back to the doors of Galaxy, switching between two different targets of focus. It was bad, it was real bad. Her puke had gotten onto her shoes and smelled like a bad fart, while the woman herself definitely looked shaken. Disrupted. She needed to remember what she was here for. Needed to remember that she didn’t have time to waste. Needed to act.

Yasuo placed a hand against her back, leaned in beside her, his other hand pushing her hair out of her face. And, against her ear, he whispered.

“You’re losing time, Marina. You won’t be getting another chance as clear as this. Once he’s gone, he might never return here. It’s now or fucking never, and you know it. This, this that you’re feeling right now. Ignore it. Discard it.”

He clenched his teeth and bared it as a smile.

“And take it all back.”


“Hanh?”

MiWa turned, her brows lifting.

“We don’t let people register to play here under pseudonyms, genius. There’s no Ishikawa in New Blue Glitch and even if there were, they wouldn’t show up with fuck all.” A short bark of a laugh, and she turned back to her lighting work. “Where you from anyways? Really.”

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Panic on the Dancefloor
"Hah, I'll keep that in mind if I ever sneak in here again," he smirked, shaking his head and giving the picker a little twirl, nearly dropping it in the process. With her next question, he paused for a second, spinning the picker to stab at a stray piece of garbage before popping it in the bag.

"What, and ruin the entire mystery?" Marc huffed, leaning a bit on the picker while placing a hand and trash bag on his back before chuckling to himself and pivoting around to pick up some trash. "France; moved to Tenoroshi a couple of years ago," he scratched at his neck as he answered before stumbling and staggering a bit for no reason, picking at the water bottle from behind him.

"What about you," he questioned Miwa as much as he questioned why the blonde chick he saw earlier was brandishing a fire extinguisher, nearly tripping over the open air when taking a step forward.

“From Kanazawa myself,” MiWa replied, stepping up to the tips of her toes to unplug something high up on the wall, “Didn’t want to stay on the farm forever, so I booked it here, found work, and that’s how it is.”

She noticed the muscled blonde take the fire extinguisher as well, but unlike Marc, the silver-haired woman could also understand the intent. No one walked like that unless...

Yasuo was right. It was time. Her memories, fears, everything from before didn’t matter. What mattered was making right. One of her killers was free and right in front of her. It didn’t matter how much her stomach churned at the memory of what happened. She knew what she had to do. In the respite after the concert, everyone had been preoccupied with the event’s denouement. It was incredibly easy for Marina to hop past the boy picking up trash. In the brief moments before anyone could process exactly what was going on and confront Marina, she grabbed the nearest, heaviest object she could find. With a fire-extinguisher in her hand, she walked towards the split-haired youth—ignoring the people he had been speaking with—and swung it down upon his skull as hard as she could.

“Shit! Behind you!” A female voice shot across the live house, but it was too little, too late.

Miyane didn't notice the muscled blonde marching towards them. Too busy fighting a tired frown, wondering when she could just leave with Daehyun already. Funny how fast the distinction between fans and bootlickers blurred for the idol these days.

Whatever. As long as a fuss wasn't made.

She held the pen aloft. "Where do you want me to--"

Then the fire extinguisher slammed down. Miyane flinched away with a scream.

Yuudai had been too slow to turn, and there was no resistance that could be offered even if he did. The sharp edge of the fire extinguisher cracked against the back of his head and the youth immediately fell over, his nose striking the ground with a crunch as he laid there, unmoving.

Finish him, roared the thoughts in Marina’s head, but before she could do so, Daehyun moved. Physical conditioning for his role had made him plenty strong, plenty fast, but there was something beyond that, sharp and instinctual. He grasped onto the fire extinguisher before it could be swung a second time, wrestling the blonde psychopath for it, as he shouted out, voice projected cleanly, clearly even in the sudden chaos, “Someone call the police!”

Daehyun's pleas would not be met in the way he wanted, at least initially. Despite that, there was some silver-lining as another had closed in on Marina, far before everyone's cries of help. Thankfully, those cries for help had muffled the blistering response as a blonde boy dashed onto and across the stage. Nearing the duo, a garbage picker was deftly raised to the side, aimed directly at the side of her head. It didn't take a few seconds before the impromptu weapon flew towards Marina with a resounding whoosh.

Suddenly wrestling with Daehyun for control of the extinguisher, Marina knew that fighting for it was too time-consuming. She needed to finish the job. Rather than try to wrestle for it, Marina used to buy a moment of time. She pulled against Daehyun’s pull. With swift and sudden movements, she stepped towards him. Suddenly, he was pulling against a great push. That wasn’t all. Marina’s step forward was awkward, stepped past him, and, to anyone untrained, seemed strange. In a fraction of a second, however, her heel had met with his Achilles tendon. It was a sweep. She didn’t need the fire extinguisher.

Crunch. Metal had collided with Marina’s cheek. It didn’t do anything. Besides a slight flinch, Marina’s head didn’t move. The hollow aluminum tube weighed less than a pound. It wouldn’t be able to stop Marina, let alone injure her. Not with that kind of blow. Marina ignored the second assailant. Instead, she lifted her leg over Yuudai’s skull.

Then she brought her heel down right onto where his spine and his skull met.

Well, that was just as effective as trying to cut someone with a plastic butter knife and it seemed Marc was a little more affected than the lady he just struck. He jolted briefly, but recovered twice as fast as the boy drew back the garbage picker and instead opted for getting in closer. Just as he saw the assailants leg was coming down onto the downed man, he countered by swiping his own leg at her own.

Daehyun fell over, a shock of pain running up his arm as his elbow collided against the hard ground. Smelled like spilled beer and shit. The distance was negligible, and the urgency was unreal. Even as some other blonde (why were there so many blondes) rushed in to help, he practically bounced off the floor, crashing into Marina. Her stomp struck the ground itself, and the two tumbled, rolled on the ground once more.

Oh god. Oh god, she was trying to kill this kid. Even through her panic and confusion, Miyane knew that wasn't right.

"Help!" she cried. She scrambled to her feet and began to drag Yuudai away from the fight.

It was getting annoying. Real annoying. The other blonde’s sweep had struck high, only slightly shifting Marina’s leg. The man who tackled her did most of the work in saving Yuudai from Marina’s boot. Still, Marina couldn’t stop there. No, it was far too late to stop. With every bit of determination she could muster, she clenched her fist and launched it directly into the balls of the Daehyun. It would buy enough time for Marina to hastily run back to Yuudai, who was now being slowly dragged away by the woman he was talking to, and go for the throat. They couldn’t pull Marina off if she had her maw latched onto Yuudai’s jugular.

Daehyun's pained groan rung like a taunt and Miyane sucked in a gasp. On top of all that, this fucking psychopath was about to jump the kid again.

The woman's face was about knee level. Out of sheer reflex, the idol aimed a kick at her nose. Following her assault, the other bespectacled boy continued with his own, easily keeping up the pace with the rabid lady as she closed the distance. Before she could murder the man, the blonde took the opportunity to take a stab at the opposing womans side, as well as driving his foot into her stomach.

Daehyun could hardly breathe, could definitely not stand anymore, but he propelled himself forward as well, desperation and adrenaline in equal measure as a distinctly un-idol-like expression broke through his pale, sweating face, his shoulder driving into Marina's legs, trying to push her forward, trying to dislodge her from Yuudai's body.

But none of them would see the results of their actions.

An instant before their consecutive countermeasures could be made, the lights in the room suddenly shut off, plunging them all in pitch-black darkness.
Hidden 5 yrs ago Post by Asuras
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Asuras Into her woven halls, her children cover the walls

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A hand immediately cupped at her neck, rubbing away the sickening feeling of having your windpipe pressed against muscles and bone. Mana seemed agitated, though not for the now sudden realization that she had identified the wrong person.

"I'm alright. I've... been clotheslined before, I guess," Mana grumbled, eyes to the ground. As she got her bearings back stepping off the wall, Mana turned up to the girl apparently named 'Kiwa'. Immediately she thought the name sounded silly in particular, but at least she probably had been spared the endless jokes throughout schooling about how she was named the after a fantasy magical resource.

"Kiwa Usui?" Mana repeated to herself, seeming somewhat skeptical. As she looked the short-haired girl once and twice-over, it felt unlikely that they'd be so similar, but then again, Mana had only physically interacted with Hanami at most three times. The situation, still, seemed way too coincidental. After all...

"I'm sorry Kiwa. You just... looked so freakin' similar to an acquaintance of mine, and she's missing. Maybe my worries got my hopes up. Sorry... again," Mana explained before continuing. "Though... that girl you were with, just before you got onto the train? You know her, right? She was wearing an eyepatch." Mana said as she swirled a finger around her right eye.

"What's her name? How do you know each other? Oh, uh..." Mana paused her questioning, realizing it was probably best to explain why she herself knew the eyepatched girl. "I uh... Well I met her during one of my lunch breaks a little while ago, as it so happens."

It wasn't a lie, in the end.
Hidden 5 yrs ago Post by AdmrlStalfos19
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'Time and not effort, huh?' Tsurushi thought to herself, 'I wonder...'

Hitsu brought up a valid point. Perhaps Tsurushi was trying to go about getting Tamiko to warm up to her entirely the wrong way. Still, there was no way it could possibly be that easily, surely. Tsurushi decided she'd tell Hitsu what little information she knew about Tamiko.

"Well, you say that, but... there's one girl in particular that I can't seem to get through at all," Tsurushi stated, "She never showed up to class, and I just so happened to chance upon her at the park that's nearby the other day, when I was trying to find this place on my lunch break. I tried to remind her that she was ill-suited for that park, but... she wouldn't have a bar of it..."

Would Hitsu's professional opinion change even the slightest amount? The only way to know for sure was to give her the chance to speak.
Hidden 5 yrs ago Post by ERode
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Western District
“Huh?” There was a glint of suspicion again, her dull brown eyes narrowing slightly. But guilt seemed to have won out in the end, and Kiwa ended up shrugging, her stand loosening up. “That’s Ahmya; we went to school together.”

Her eyes flickered towards Mana’s neck. It certainly felt like it would bruise later.

“And, uh, if I really do look like the girl you’re looking for…”

Her gaze swept to the side, her hands twisting the handles of her leather bag.

“I’ve been...stalked, sorta, like, recently, so…”

She let that hang.

It couldn’t really be the case, could it?

Southern District
What, was she here for professional development now? Hitsu raised a brow at Tsurushi’s comment, but otherwise kept quiet, thinking it through carefully. An open mind was the most useful thing for a psychiatrist to have.

She counted her breaths. One, two, three.

“Some children, whether it be just their personal inclinations or family matters, reach their adolescence early than others. For girls especially, 5th grade is around the time where some hit puberty, while others don’t, and that can bring forth many changes.” Hitsu turned on her chair, her fingers click-clacking against the keyboard, before she shifted the monitor so that Tsurushi could get a look. “You’re a new teacher, but you’ve also gotten one of the more difficult grades to work with. There’s quite a few psychology articles on it, if you’d like to read further, but at this girl’s current stage of development, she will definitely be the type to respond better with positive reinforcement from someone she sees as an ally, rather than negative reinforcement from someone she sees as an enemy.”

Hitsu spun back to fully face Tsurushi. “Most likely, she also sees your efforts to control her outside of your place of authority, that being the classroom, as an invasion of her independence. Right now, she’s most likely at the stage in which she’s fle-”

Sirens sounded in the distance, quickly growing closer. The psychiatrist paused briefly, standing up off her chair before parting the blinds of the window slightly, to peer out.

Her expression changed, just for a moment, before smoothly transitioning into the neutral, yet warm expression of a competent, caring physician. Sitting back in the chair, she continued. “She’s most likely flexing her wings, per se, trying to test her limits, and biting back when others impose such limits. Though, of course, you’d also have to establish if going to that particular park is a place she goes to often.”

Her pen clicked. She scribbled something down.

“After all, familiarity breeds a sense of safety that outsiders don’t understand.”



“ARGHH!!

In the darkness, a ripping sound resounded, evocative of a primal, instinctual fear, and immediately, a hot, sticky wetness coated Miyane’s hands, her own calls drowned out by the agonizing cry that sounded so sharply through the live house. Other voices called out as well, people bringing out their phones to light up the place, bright beams sweeping around. A weight suddenly left off her, the form of the blond psychopath shifting off, her wrist being pulled away by someone else, someone less distinct against the darkness. They ran out together, one more surefooted than the other, and the heavy doors of the live house crashed up, two individuals dashing away.

Moments later, the emergency lights kicked in, amber light revealing the aftermath of the incident.

Blood gushed out from the gash in Yuudai’s throat, flowing freely, flowing thickly. His complexion was growing paler by the second, even as MiWa ran up, the emergency aid kit bouncing against her thigh. She thrust a bundle of cloth against the grevious injury, even though doubt reflected in her eyes. “Push against it,” the part-timer said, “Ambulance should be here soon.”

Beside Miyane, Daehyun laid there as well, teeth clenched tight as pained gasps escaped him, one hand clutching his right eye while his other arm simply twitched, deep purple splotches and incredible swelling originating from his elbow. His shoulders shook violently, as he did everything he could to hold back his own pain, and even as MiWa pulled open her kit, trying to figure out what she could do, there wasn’t anything that could be done.

Miyane could see it, after all.

Swinging loosely against his cheek was a thin, pink strand. That bitch had gouged his eye out. In the distance, sirens sounded bright and fierce, but it was a meaningless comfort. Too little, too late. It had been over the minute that blonde bitch entered Galaxy without anyone stopping her.

And as for Marc saw...


Yasuo’s hand was warm, sticky against her own. His grip was strong. It was his right hand, but in that moment, it didn’t matter. He was leading the way, through the main street, ignoring the looks they received from others. It wasn’t uncommon. There was an attack in the live house. Most others had ran when it first happened. If they hadn’t, perhaps concentrated effort would have been enough to take Marina down.

Instead though, she simply had a broken rib, maybe two, and a bloodied nose. Normal injuries for her. Normal injuries, if not for the rush of emotion, the rush of adrenaline, that threw her completely out of whack. Was she happy? Was she relieved? Was she traumatized? Was she lucid? Or had this become nothing but a dream?

It didn’t matter. She was here.

“One outta four,” Yasuo said, his own breathing steady, his own heart calm, “Gonna need a new face, Mari.”

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...

...

...

There was no world-changing revelation nor was there fanfare. All that came from the cold denouement was a feeling of disconnect. Rage, fear, sadness, joy, nothing could be felt by Marina. The only thing she possessed at this time was a foreboding sense of emptiness. She was nowhere close to completing her goal. The act of taking a life didn't weigh on Marina. Her split-haired killer especially; his life was nothing more than retribution for what he had done.

Her body didn't hurt. No, the adrenaline kept her mind off the pain. No, it wasn't the adrenaline. She was far too calm for it to be that. Even if her nose was bloody and her ribs cracked, she still took Yasuo's hand. What Marina had done there was what she felt like she needed to do. Yasuo had said something about a new face. She stifled a chuckle as best she could. At a time like this, literally getting a new face... She could do it. Really, it was the first emotions she felt since she ran out of galaxy. A brief smile cracked her blood-covered jaw. She was glad to have Yasuo with her. But right now, she just needed to run.
Hidden 5 yrs ago Post by banjoanjo
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SOU MIYANE - Southern District: Galaxy

Warm. But it felt hot. Miyane didn’t want the lights back on. She didn’t want to see in color, understand the wet thickness coating her hands.

There were vague movements around her. Noises. Thudding, crying. Footsteps? Screams. Objects and humans, muddled like cloudy water. Miyane was sinking. Getting hard to hear. Was she breathing?

(Don’t stop listening. Don’t stop.)

(Press. PRESS.)

Where was Daehyun? Daehyun, was he here? No. No one else. Not that blond boy, not her friend, nor that stage worker.

Just her and the shuddering boy beneath. Both hardly breathing. Warmth on her palms. Her eyes were transfixed on his, wide and afraid.

“Head,” she said. She didn’t know how loud it was, who was listening. “Head’s bleeding too.”

Was she breathing? Was he?

“Can you hear me?” Her eyes never left.

“Are you listening?”

“You won’t die.”

“We’re okay.”

“You liked InComplete, right?”


Words tossed blindly, uncaring of the response. Ah, her sleeves were getting soaked too.

“I hated it. So fucking cheesy.”

She tried to breathe.

“<<...It’s not the me you knew before, brand new sound.>>”
Hidden 5 yrs ago 5 yrs ago Post by Savo
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"Akira Ishikawa"

Location
Southern District - Galaxy

Interacting With
MiWa, ???


As for what he saw, he replayed it all in his head as he sat nearby, going between looking at the gathering crowd and over to the injured man that was being treated by MiWa. It looked as if he was staring off into space, as his eyes were focused on the crowd as he began pinching his lower lip with his index and his thumb.







Releasing his lip from bondage, Marc leaned over to MiWa and whispered "I'll be back in a sec', holler if you've got somethin' for me to do," before steadily rising up and stretching. As he did so, he began surveying this entire scene before frowning and jammed his fists into his pockets. Christ, he was gonna have to ease up if this was gonna go smoothly.







"No, that's not right," he thought as he deftly slid off the stage, "Only Daehyun and I were in the fight, plus he wasn't there before the lights went out... maybe." It felt like a blur as he scowled and tapped a chair to the side, trudging at a leisurely pace towards his own target.







"Yo," he spoke up with a lax voice as he withdrew one of his hands from his pocket and waved it at the kid as he approached him to the side. "That was... somethin', wouldn't ya say," Marc chuckled nervously as he looked back over to the stage, "like, I didn't expect a friggin' psychopath to come out of the woodworks today, yeesh." He couldn't help but shiver a bit before shaking his head and eyeing their cellphone.

This kid was recording everything.
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Tsurushi continued to listen as Hitsu gave her opinion on the matter. It was heavily extended from her previous statement, and there might've been a few keywords here and there that stuck out to Tsurushi. Something about flexing wings and biting back? Tsurushi shook her head; she was never going to remember any of that. She kept listening for anything that might help her cause.

About half way through, sirens could be heard in the distance, which distracted Hitsu for a brief moment. Tsurushi was curious about those too, and had wondered where they were headed. She decided against asking right now though, as it would've been rude to force a change of subject to something so mundane. Perhaps it would've been best to save that until the end. Right now Tamiko took priority.

"So... I should try to relate to her, is what you're telling me..." Tsurushi deduced aloud, but shook her head again, "I mean, I'd have made a better effort than I had if knew what to go off of. Administration hasn't told me shit about her; I don't know whether it's because I'm new or because they don't know anything either or..."

Tsurushi stopped, and blinked a couple times. She had a habit rambling on for a moment, where she was never entirely sure what she was saying.

"I'm sorry; am I making excuses?" she asked Hitsu, "It feels like am when I shouldn't be..."
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Mana blinked. What an equally odd name for a girl. She found herself appraising Kiwa, as if judging how likely it was for her to be stalked by someone. Given her athleticism, perhaps it was the case someone had become infatuated with success and popularity, but that was just imagination.

"Stalked hm..." Mana nodded, "Any idea by who?" she asked. Something caught in her throat, and her eyes turned to apology as she shook her head. "Ah, well I don't mean to pry or anything. Not like I'm a detective. But uh... Well this is all just a really odd situation. Probably more weird than you even know. Maybe... maybe it's important? The identity of your stalker that is." Mana considered all that was lining up in just the recent few days. It... couldn't have all been mere coincidence, right? Mana certainly wasn't immediately thinking that Kouta was stalking her for looking like Hanami but...

She couldn't deny it was in the back of her mind.

"And about that girl. Ahmya. Has anything seemed... strange about her? Anything at all?"
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Everywhere and Nowhere
In a kinder world, the boy would have said something, would have given any indication that he had heard her words. But he did nothing but bleed, becoming grayer and grayer, the blood from the back of his head soaking into her jeans. Eventually, paramedics arrived, prying Miyane away from him, their actions speaking enough. Fingers against the wrist, a shake of the head, and they turned their attention to Daehyun instead, the one who could be saved.

If she had been smarter, more capable, perhaps this conversation would have been the breakthrough. Maybe the conclusion would be to gently support the truant child. Maybe the conclusion would be to stubbornly approach her family unit in search for answers. There were myriads of possible solutions, but they were useless if Tsurushi did not come to any of them by herself. Her psychiatrist wasn’t here to aid her with professional development, after all. She could say ‘yes, you are making excuses, but no, you don’t need to apologize for them’ or she could say ‘no, you’re not making excuses, some schools certainly do just try to ignore their troublemakers’, but Tsurushi was the teacher, not Hisui. And in the end, there were no answers, only a somewhat pleasant sensation left behind by being able to put her problems out there, by being able to make someone else understand them.

In a more just world, she wouldn’t have to run at all, her enemies tried and found guilty, the gravity of the crimes enough to sentence them to death. Wouldn’t have to do it herself, wouldn’t have to taste viscera as it seeped into her throat, while the rest of the world saw that boy as only a boy, and her as the monster. But that was fine. The world was shit, and only those willing to get knee-deep into it would go anywhere. They broke into a car, jumpstarted it, and were off, tinted windows hiding their crimson countenances. Neither of them had licenses, but then again. What was one more crime, at this point?

If she had been sharper, more astute, perhaps she could have put the pieces together more easily, could have leveraged her connections more effectively. But the questions posed raised suspicions again, brown eyes narrowing, a nervous twitchiness entering Kiwa’s stance once more. Only non-committal, vague responses followed. She only knew that her ‘stalker’ rode motorbikes, and she suggested that Mana avoid them as well. She only knew that Ahmya was going through a rough patch in life, and she suggested that Mana help her out if she asks, but not get involved otherwise. She apologized again and, with the abruptness of someone who didn’t know how to end a conversation but had to anyways, left, clutching her bag against her chest. And, like that, Mana was alone.

In a warmer world, he would’ve gotten a proper response, an answer, a question, something that he’d be able to latch onto. But he was half-foreigner, and the kid before him was simply...a kid. Seeing him approach, the teenager immediately pocketed his phone, stammered out a response, and left quickly, running out of the livehouse. Soon after, the police had come, armed with harmless smiles and notepads. There was no escape now, especially not for someone personally involved.

In a gray world where sunshine only emerged in infrequent patches, the day passed on into night.


Northern District
There was no smell of microwaved food waiting for Tsurushi when she came back. Nor was there the sound of Zaketa’s constant chattering on stream. In the absence of both, she could have expected a chirpy ‘welcome back’ from her young lover, but that too wasn’t present. More alarming though, was just how clean their hotel room was. There were no socks lying on the carpeted floor, for one, and no scattered wires and empty packages, for another.

There was none of that coziness that accompanied a disorderly room, only two large suitcases, bulging from the amount of stuff in it. Zaketa was crouched before the third, not so much placing clothes in as she was tossing them in. There was an angry decisiveness in her motions, paused only briefly when she noticed Tsurushi standing there. For a moment, she stopped, regret flickering through her eyes.

But she recovered soon enough. She always did. Her mouth set a hard line, and she got back to work.

“We’re leaving this place,” Zaketa said. “Help me pack, Tsu.”
Eastern District
Construction in Tenoroshi continued, but Niimura Street, winding and chock full of barely-legal stores selling everything from knock-off figurines with melted faces to ground-up bear penis meant to encourage youthful excess, never changed. Years ago, Mana’d probably have been hanging in those dimly lit streets as well, puffing away a cigarette as her friends talked about nothing and shared a lighter. Now, other, newer wannabe-delinquents filled the place instead, burning away the last hours of Sunday as they vaped sweet-smelling clouds through their noses, obnoxiously loud foreign music bursting out of their wireless earphones.

Only the inhabitants were different. She had no need to pass by this time, not when no one she recognized were taking up space on the streets.

But there was something that did give her pause. Long enough for her to stop and really look. Two men, their long white coats trailing the ground, were talking to the locals there, their voices loud but largely incoherent. Aggressive posturing, gesticulations with a piece of paper, all drew nothing from the mute storekeeper, who was trying to peddle them a couple of kendama toys instead, and in the end, neither side got what they wanted. Another rude word, and the men mounted their bikes, their mufflers amplified thricefold in the narrow acoustics of the streets, before roaring off.

Sorta stupid, how their rides were so loud even when they rode so slow.
Central District
Tenoroshi General Hospital had an uncommonly busy night, but the isolated metropolis was never occupied enough that people with grievous injuries had to wait long to be admitted. In that aspect, perhaps, Daehyun was lucky.

And it was lucky for Miyane too, that visiting hours stretched so late into the night.

The sterile, deafeningly quiet environment was painful, eerie. Fluorescent lighting cast bright, pearly light against the linoleum floor, and the walls were painted pastel colors. Occasionally, a patient would be pushed past by a man or woman in scrubs, and occasionally, a couple would be supporting their elderly parent as they shakily strode down the hall, but that was it. No one in beds, being pushed to surgery. Tranquility all around, unoccupied halls occasionally broken by people with cough masks sleeping in padded chairs. Third floor, eastern hallway, fourth door to the left had been the instructions the bespectacled receptionist had left with her, and when she opened the door, that strange ‘empty’ smell became greater than before. It wasn’t a private room, three other beds laying empty, but it was private enough, curtains sectioning them off.

As she approached, Daehyun turned to face her. His arm was in a cast, his complexion was sickly, his lips chaffed and dry, but, as she expected, it was the mass of gauzes and bandages around his eye that caught her attention. Bits of blood had soaked through, but evidently not enough to cause the doctors any concern, and if nothing else, he still had enough energy to smile when she appeared.

“Brought the Sichuan Chicken, Miyane?”

That was wrong. He didn’t have any energy at all in the smile.
Southwestern District
Sakura Mansion was a place where people could live without fear of intruding eyes reporting them to the authorities, but that didn’t mean one could get away with everything. Especially not a yakiniku party, if the many muffled ‘SHUT THE FUCK UP’s of their neighbors were anything to take into consideration. Yasuo had lost count of the amount of heavy banging he heard from the thin walls, but the youth didn’t particularly care either. It was time to hard party, after all, time to celebrate and clear out all the frozen meat in Marina’s fridge. With more six-packs of beers than either of them should drink, and a steadily growing pile of greased paper towels used to clean the grill, it was certainly a wild time. Everything smelled of meat, even the crisp vegetables as palate cleansers.

Was it healthy? Hell no. Was it hel-fun? Hell yes.

Toasting once more to macabre things that had no right to be celebrated, Yasuo sipped his brew once more, leaning back. The clouds had admirably cleared up in the night, at least, and stars were twinkling up above, faint but still present. Those same stars would be witnesses to all sorts of shady shit down in the slummier parts of Tenoroshi, no doubt, but still. Pleasant sights, pleasant nights.

All came to an end though.

“Oof, lookit the time,” Yasuo said, hopping up onto his feet (and almost tripping over an empty can in the process), “Think Imma pop home now, ‘less pops goes bald.”
Western District
The stars were faint, but the western district was the oldest part of Tenoroshi. The neon of the downtown core had yet to encroach upon this hilly area of town, leaving a soothing darkness behind. Well, such things were hard to appreciate though, when one’s eyes were drawn to the shine of their phone instead. Sitting atop Tengu’s Villa, legs hanging off the side, Marc had plenty of things to think about as the day turned to a close. With Daehyun being as big as he was, local news outlets immediately picked up on the incident, articles still being updated as new information, some fraudulent, spilling in. The greatest boon to the media was the video that had been captured and then sent, all the juicy violence caught in the process. The quality was bad, the dimness of the live house making everything grainy, and the initial blows weren’t captured either, but it was enough to cause a stir nonetheless. Some were calling it a publicity stunt to drum up more interest in the movies, others were pouring out love and support for Daehyun, still more condemned the owner of Galaxy for having no security measures in place to stop a random attack like that, but the focus was clear; the tragedy was in the injury of the beloved Korean superstar, not of the death of a teenaged boy.

Unpleasant, was what it was, but it wasn’t as if Minds, Mayhem, and Mystery had much to offer that day either. They were focused on the event as well, after all. Maybe the kid who died was actually connected to the ‘dark side’ of Tenoroshi, and this was a particularly savage hitwoman. Maybe the entire thing was falsified, an experiment by the Overmind to see how much influence over reality their media-infiltrating pawns had before they executed their plans of world domination. Maybe the blonde was, considering her apparent method of attack, literally a vampire. And of course, that followed with comments about how hot she was and whether or not she was a succubus too.

Amongst the torrent of stupid shit, the other story of the day, the mysterious fire seen in one of the buildings of Tamagakahara, which had spontaneously emerged but left no traces on the building’s exterior afterwards, drew hardly any attention at all.


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"Yea," Marina slowly replied, an uncomfortable pause formed between her words. "See you."

No, it couldn't end like that.

As Yasuo turned to leave, she grabbed his sleeve. She hesitated. From the Marina who had just committed an unspeakable taboo, a mortal sin, and everything in between, the words were unable to escape her mouth. She swallowed and took a deep breath.

"Thank you."

And she let go of his sleeve, unable to make eye-contact with Yasuo.

But this wasn't born of embarrassment or love. No, this was guilt. Marina wasn't affected by all of the death and violence up until this point. Nervous and afraid, sometimes. Remorse wasn't something she felt until now. What she had realized was the road straight to hell that she had carved for her best friend. He was complicit in murder and even aided her. Not to mention, helping her escape, stealing a car, and more. All because of her. Yasuo trusted Marina. He trusted that she made the right choice.

But Marina knew that none of what she had been doing was right. It was simply what she wanted to be done. When Yasuo closed that door and ended their celebration, all pretenses of Marina's emotion had vanished. No more smiles, laughter, rage, or sorrow. She remained drinking, unable to change the emptiness she felt no matter how much booze she put into her dead stomach.
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SOU MIYANE - Southern District: The Don


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SOU MIYANE - Central District: Tenoroshi General Hospital
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Tsurushi had only just back from her therapy with Hitsu. She wanted to make a quick trip to the convenience store to get the ingredients that she needed for the recipe she wanted to try, but she figured she needed to check how many of which of those ingredients she and Zaketa already kept in their hotel room. It was a good thing too, since for the first time since she even got here, Tsurushi found the room to be almost spotless! Ordinarily this would be considered amazing, but knowing Zaketa? Something had to have gone horribly wrong while Tsurushi was away.

Her suspicions were confirmed when she saw two suitcases out in the open; one of which had to be filled to the brink with everything Zaketa would normally have strewn across the floor, and the other being in the process of being packed. Tsurushi didn't know what to think about the idea of leaving this place. Her first instinct was to see if she could find some kind of clue that would give Zaketa to leave. An eviction notice? She looked over at the top of the table, then over to the bench and even inside the bin where all the trash would be placed.

"I... I don't understand," Tsurushi finally told Zaketa, "Why should we have to leave so suddenly? Did something happen when I was gone?"

She didn't know what kind of answer to expect from her young lover, given her current mood. That alone was enough for Tsurushi to tense up in anticipation.

"They found out," Zaketa spat, grimacing at the thought. "About what I...used to do before. What you're doing now." More smouldering anger surfaced, but she knew control, at least. Knew how to keep going, cramming more belongings into the suitcase.

"You don't mean...?"

Suddenly, it hit Tsurushi. There was only one type of people who'd even have a problem with what she and Zaketa were doing now; those sleezeballs they both used to work under the employ of, "Love S Us", if she remembered the name correctly. Why they'd be pursuing the two after all this time, Tsurushi didn't know. But she did know that there had to be a better way they could get out of this situation.

Just as Zaketa shoved even more stuff into the open suitcase with more determination than ever, Tsurushi reached out and grabbed her hand.

"Wait, hold on!" she demanded in desperation, "We're already as far away from that place as we can possibly afford; we can't just pack up and run away! Not after I... not after we had just got the chance to settle down!"

"What..." Zaketa narrowed her eyes, frustration leaking through. "What else can we do? It's not about the past, you know? It's about your future, Tsurushi!" She pulled her hand away from the green-haired woman's grasp, fists clenched, shaking. "Thirteen years age difference, with the younger one being a former prostitute. If that gets out, who would want you as a teacher for children?"

Her eyes were bagged, bleeding mascara.

"If nothing else, I need to leave. You don't have a past with them, Tsu."

No. Zaketa was wrong; Tsurushi did have a past with them. She may have used her power to rewrite it completely, but it was still fresh on her mind, as if it were yesterday. She hid that deep in her heart for so long, and she never told anyone. None of the teachers and staff she worked with. Not Yasuo. Not Hitsu. Not even Zaketa. It haunted Tsurushi deeply; enough so that she began to shed tears of her own.

"Zake..." murmered a saddened Tsurushi before she suddenly brought Zaketa in close, and wrapped her arms around her, "This is all my fault. I got so caught up in trying to get you out that... I knew I should've thought of a better way to cut the ties between you and those scumbags! If only I wasn't such a fucking coward, I'd have...!"

Tsurushi let go of Zaketa, and distanced herself by the slightest amount. She took the time to wipe away a few stray tears, but then looked her lover straight in the eyes, with a newfound determination.

"I know you might think you're not worth the trouble," she adjusted her tone accordingly, "But I'll be damned if I'm forced to give up on the person I love. I'll find a way to fix this, Zaketa; I owe that much to the both of us..."

Zaketa was too old to believe that feelings alone would fix all this. It wasn't as if it was difficult to run, but running away was different from escaping. She blinked, a difficult expression emerging as she placed a hand upon Tsurushi's own. Cold and warm, seeping through and mixing until they became the same. She took two breaths to steady herself, and forced a smile.

"Ok. I'll trust you with that." The dark-skinned woman said. "But Tsu. We're still going to have to pack our bags and run, ok? You need time to think, right? So. We're going to do this then. Just promise me. If things go poorly, cut me off."

She swallowed, released Tsurushi's warm, warm hand, and went back to packing.

"I'll be fine. I just want you to be more than fine."

"Er... sure," Tsurushi replied hesitantly, although she was evidently lying through her teeth. She could never bring herself to cut Zaketa off. Honestly, she would kill herself before she'd allow it to come down to that.

Still, Zaketa may've been on to something. Perhaps it was for the best that the couple secure another place to stay, even for a night or two before the big confrontation with 'Love S Us'... Just in case the highly likely event occured that something were to go horribly wrong. But where would they go? Zaketa had to know that neither of them could afford anything real fancy and secure, and that Tsurushi still had her job that they couldn't live too far away from either. Tsurushi didn't want to think about that. She was already racking her brain as it was.

Tsurushi knew she couldn't do this on her own, but who'd be her best ally? A prosecutor? No; their services tended to cost way too much, and she'd have to sacrifice her whole salary for the year just to be able to pay them off. The police? One would expect that to be the go-to choice for a law-abiding citizen, but Tsurushi had no idea how sure the cops would feel about shaking down a place of business, and she'd feel bad for requesting that of them. A bruiser-type? Most of them were too scary to even approach, let alone ask for a favor of any kind.

...

Maybe it was better for Tsurushi to just go to 'Love S Us' and figure out all the fine details along the way. And maybe she should start leaving right then and there; maybe make some excuse about checking somewhere out or.... something. But could she leave Zaketa to fend for herself knowing that those goons would come after her again? Tsurushi really did need time to think how to solve this problem. But could she really afford it?
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Marc Kurosawa

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...


Marc was silent as he sat up upon the rooftops, looking over the twinkling, twilight sky. His legs were hanging off the ledge as he scowled, staring between the starry horizon and the luminescent lights of the city. It was a beautiful contrast, as the thoughts of the day weighed on his mind. "I didn't know the guy but why do I feel so..."

Empty?

Angry?

Worthless?

The boy didn't know as he leaned back, falling back onto the rooftops, eyes looking upwards into the night sky. He blinked, pursing his lips as he uttered a creative string of curses to himself before rolling to the side and knocking over an empty can of bear he bummed off of Rin. He squinted, sighed, and took off his glasses, pulling up his cellphone to divert his thoughts elsewhere.

Scrolling onto the forums, he found an older thread of Ducking had been posted on, Thirty-eight," he murmured almost quizzically before scrolling through the lot of them.

Silence. Aside from the occasional car or bicycle, it was quiet as the cellphones light flickered as he flicked his thumb, clenching his teeth. Before he was halfway through, he stopped, clasping his phone with such force that he could of crushed it if he was waaaay stronger than this.

But he wasn't. The body of the kid, the other band members, MiWa's face, the face of Daehyun with his gouged eye, his horrified secretary or something. Sitting up, he grabbed the sides of his temple with one hand, obscuring his eyes as he stared into his own palms. "What could I have done, what could I have done, what could-" he repeated, constantly before removing his hands.

Why did he give two shits about these people? Why did these people care more about Daehyun's missing eye than the kid who was fucking killed? Why? Was he just angry that no one cared? Was he angry that he couldn't do more? He really didn't know at this point.

While he did notice another story, he couldn't bring himself to investigate, at least, right now if anything. At best he might just call it a day, at worse he would just continue to stew here and let today fester.

Hm.

"What did that woman look like again?"
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