UPDATE TIME? Yeah!
7: Bait
"Huh."
Rabou glanced over at Yato, who had just ended a phone call with a new customer. "What is it?"
"We're about to see a familiar face: your first client. Remember him?" Yato said.
Rabou (who had been perusing the site Kofuku called Wikipedia) sat his phone down, interest piqued. "Ah, yes, I do recall. We cleaned his residence." He paused, then frowned. "You tracked muddy footprints onto the floor I had just cleaned."
"You're still butthurt about that?!" Yato exclaimed.
"I will have no need to be 'butthurt', as you say, if you are more cautious in where you tread," Rabou sniped. Crossing his arms and smiling slightly, he added offhandedly, "If not, then perhaps next time, you shall clean the floor and I shall tread mud upon it."
"Just get over it, will you?!" Yato yelped, voice pitching upward.
Rabou chuckled and turned his attention back to his phone. "What, then, does our client wish of us?"
"Same as before." Yato paused, and sighed. "Poor fella, he sounds kinda different, somehow. Even more tired than last time."
"The life of a modern businessman is a stressful one, is it not? Hiyori-san has told me as much," Rabou pointed out.
"Mm," Yato said, staring down at his phone. He looked troubled. Then he shrugged and stood up, lacing his fingers together and stretching his arms above his head till his shoulders popped. "Welp, time to get crackin'! C'mon, apprentice, let's go rescue dear little Yukine-kun from his chores."
As they walked downstairs to the front shop, something occurred to Rabou. "Yato, you left Yukine here with Kofuku when we first went to this man's residence, is that not so?"
Yato didn't answer for a second. "Yeah," he said finally. He shot a thin smirk at Rabou; there was little humor in it. "I didn't really trust you, ya know?"
"And yet you placed yourself in my company without your shinki," Rabou commented.
"Yeah, well, last time you'd have gladly killed Yukine to push me to my breaking point. I figured if you tried to pull something, I'd just beat the shit outta you with my own two fists this time, instead," Yato said dryly.
"Hm." Rabou paused, then asked, "Then, do you trust me now?"
Yato shrugged. "We'll see." He paused, then added, "Oh, hey, Hiyori told me something kinda interesting the other day."
"Oh?" Rabou said, glancing up.
"Yeah. Apparently, her friends mentioned you before. After the Stray woke you up, I mean," Yato said. His tone was carefully offhanded.
"What did they say of me?"
Yato shrugged. "They'd been hearing rumors about a kami who could make people disappear, like a revenge kinda thing. Pray to Rabou-sama and he'll get rid of somebody for you- that's what they told her."
"Then, your Stray had me doing the work of a magatsukami," Rabou murmured. "Could that be the secret behind my reincarnation?"
"Maybe," Yato said. "There were a bunch of killings around that time, so I guess it worked well enough. No idea how the Stray spread your name around though."
"And those that were slain? Who were they?" Rabou asked.
Yato considered, then shrugged. "Don't remember. We'd have to go back and look at the news from those days. Still, at least it's something, right?"
"Perhaps," Rabou murmured.
The man who greeted them at the door looked uncannily different from their first meeting. His face was thinner, his shoulders slumped, and his smile when he opened the door was somehow not quite... right.
"Ah, you're here! Thanks for coming again. I know it's late in the evening, but-" He broke off and took a shuddering, choking breath, then smiled unevenly. "I'm just so tired, you know?"
"Not to worry!" Yato said cheerfully. "Rabou-san and Yato-sama will take care of it for you, so you just go and take a nap for a while, yeah?" He flashed a peace sign, winking.
The young man nodded jerkily. "Yeah... yeah, I guess I will," he said. Turning, he stumbled off and collapsed facedown on the couch.
Yukine, hanging back behind Yato, peered after the young man. "Hey, Yato..."
"Mm, I got it. Yukine, keep an eye on him, will ya?" Yato muttered. Yukine nodded and padded after their client. To Rabou, Yato said, "C'mon, let's get started. This place is crawling with bad vibes."
Rabou didn't need an explanation; he could feel the heavy, crackling tension in the air.
This time, Yato tasked him with cleaning up the kitchen to begin with: there were dishes to be scrubbed, food scraps to be thrown out, the counters and floors to be washed. Rabou pushed up the sleeves of his sweatshirt, drew his hair back and secured it with a stretchy band Kofuku had given him, then put on his allotted yellow rubber gloves and set about tackling the pile of dishes in the sink.
It was while Rabou was wiping down the countertops that he heard uneasy mumbling from the prone figure on the couch. He paused, listening. The young man stirred, talking in his sleep in a pained whisper.
Yukine, slouching against the wall nearest the couch, had heard it too. He ducked his head and tiptoed over, frowning at the sleeping man. Rabou set his rag down and cautiously stepped closer.
"So tired, so tired..." the young man murmured.
"Yukine," Rabou said quietly, "what is it that you and Yato have sensed here?"
"Why?" the sleeping man whimpered, "Why do I have to do this every day? So tired... just want to rest... so tired..." He curled in tighter on himself.
"You don't feel it? Seriously?" Yukine muttered back, incredulous.
"I feel it, but I cannot put a name to it." Whatever it was, it was getting stronger.
Yukine drew back a step, eyebrows furrowed. "It's..."
"I don't want this life... I don't want to keep doing this every day..." The young man sat bolt upright, eyes snapping wide open. He clutched the sides of his head, fingers twisting hard into his own hair. "I CAN'T DO THIS ANYMORE!"
The ayakashi roared into existence above the couch. Its purple-and-black limbs, thin and withered, lashed about as the creature let out an anguished screech. Rabou seized Yukine by the shoulder and hauled him back, out of range of the thrashing limbs.
Above them, the gaunt ayakashi stretched up to its full height, its bony head brushing the ceiling. It opened its narrow jaws wide, and its scream rattled the windows.
Yato, folding laundry in the bedroom, felt the damn thing spawn right before he heard it scream.
Swearing, he dropped the neatly pressed shirt he'd been folding and sprinted for the door, bolting down the hallway and skidding to a halt in the doorframe, gripping it with white knuckles.
Yep, there it was. The ayakashi filled the living room, dwarfing Rabou and Yukine beyond it.
"Damn it, I should've guessed this would happen!" he snarled. "Come, Sekki!" Yukine vanished in a flash and reappeared as that iconic (or so he felt) bare, cloth-wrapped blade in his hand. Yato charged, but the thing turned and he took a swing from one of its mantis-like arms- the blow slammed him back-first into the kitchen counter.
"Shit! Close quarters, huh?" Yato grunted. He needed some breathing room to say the incantation and charge up Sekki's Rend, and there was precious little of it in this cramped apartment.
"Yato!" Rabou called from behind the ayakashi.
Yato pointed Sekki at him. "You stay outta this, Mister No-Shinki!" he shouted back. "Get back to Kofuku's place!"
"No!" Rabou shouted back. "I will not run!"
"Oh, fuck off with your stupid pride! Stubborn old bastard!" Yato screeched back. As he ducked under another swing from a scythe-like arm, he reflected on the fact that Rabou getting stubborn was pretty much the last thing he needed at the moment.
"I can help!" Rabou insisted. Yato swore, dodging as the ayakashi slammed into the kitchen counter. He swung Sekki and landed a glancing strike on one of the lashing arms. The ayakashi screamed, rattling the walls.
"I can fight ayakashi just fine without your shitty help! Besides, a kami without a shinki is just ayakashi bait!" Yato retorted.
And then he had an idea.
It was kind of a dick move. In fact, it was an extremely dick move.
...But it might also be very handy. And after all the dick moves previous-Rabou had pulled, well... it would be very, very funny. Assuming it didn't end in disaster, of course. And Rabou had just said he wanted to help, after all.
"Y'know what? Stay right there and don't move!" Yato yelled over the ayakashi's shrieks.
"Here? Why?" Rabou yelled back. Too late; Yato blinked out of the room.
Rabou stared, aghast, at the empty space Yato had just vacated. And the terrible, gaping eye sockets of the ayakashi turned slowly towards him. It hissed, a low sound that rattled in its gaunt throat. And its scythe-like limbs reached for him.
"Smells good!"
"Damn it!" Rabou snarled, backing up. There was little space for retreat in the cramped apartment- and, as Yato had reminded him, he had no shinki with which to defend himself. If he could just distract it somehow, draw its attention elsewhere... if he could just drive it off somehow...
The ayakashi drew back, preparing to strike-
White light flashed behind him as Yato shouted, "DUCK!"
Rabou dropped, and a brilliant arc of blue-white light swept over his head. The flying slash struck the ayakashi; it screamed and reeled back, its head bashing against the ceiling. Rabou glanced backward from his spot on the floor; sure enough, there was Yato- and he was alight with the glow of his sacred vessel's power.
"You, who would desecrate this land of the rising sun," Yato intoned, drawing a trail of light down Sekki's blade, "with my advent, I, the Yato kami, lay waste with the Sekki and expel thy vast defilement!"
The ayakashi screeched. Yato drew Sekki back and sprang forward- his free hand came down hard on Rabou's shoulder, shoving him down and forward as Yato vaulted over him, leaping into the air.
"REND!" The crescent of purifying energy swept across the ayakashi like a tidal wave, ripping through it. The purification charm lit up the room in glowing crimson, blindingly bright, and then it was over.
"Yeah! How's that for teamwork, huh?!" Yato exulted. He pumped Sekki in the air triumphantly, then grinned down expectantly at Rabou.
Rabou stared at him, contemplating what had just taken place.
"You used me as bait," Rabou said.
"Pfff," Yato said dismissively. "Revert, Yukine."
The boy reappeared in a flash of light, already frowning. "You did kinda use him as bait, Yato."
Yato stared at him. "...Come, Sekki."
"Hey!" Yukine protested as he vanished again.
"You. Used me. As bait," Rabou repeated.
Yato tsked. "I like to think of it more like a distraction," he said smugly.
"You used me as a distraction," Rabou said flatly.
"Yeah, well, you were the one who said you wanted to help, Mister No-Shinki," Yato retorted. He smirked. "You mad?"
"Should I be?" Rabou shot back snidely. He stood and brushed dust off his sweatshirt sleeves, staring pointedly at Yato, who scoffed.
"Hey, it worked, didn't it? Besides, I had it under control. Like I'm gonna let some ayakashi chomp on you after all the time I've spent trying to mold you into a proper delivery kami," Yato said, waving a hand loftily.
"Hmm," Rabou muttered. "And where does using me as bait fit with your plan to mold me as such?"
Yato sputtered indignantly. "Let's just finish cleaning and go!"
With the ayakashi slain, the young man had fallen into a deep and untroubled sleep. Yato roused him once they'd finished cleaning.
The young man sat up and looked around blearily, then gave them a sleepy smile. His face was still drawn and pallid, but he looked less manic now. The unwholesome sense of something dreadful in the air had dissipated.
"Hey, it looks great around here!" he said. "Thanks, you two. Here, it's five yen each, right?" Hauling himself off the couch, the young businessman shuffled away to retrieve the coins- and came back with two cans of beer as well. "A little extra, as a thank you."
Yato took his with a broad grin. "Always a pleasure, sir! Never hesitate to call upon Yato-sama, okay?" He flipped the coin in midair, flashing a wink. "And may our fates intertwine!"
Sent off with a weary smile and a wave, the three of them set off for the elevator.
"How come I didn't get a beer?" Yukine grumbled.
"Because the guy's just tired, not stupid! He ain't gonna give a beer to a kid!" Yato retorted.
"It's not like I'm an actual kid!" Yukine protested.
"Aw, poor Yukine-kun, forever a baby!" Yato sighed dramatically.
"Yeah, right! When it's been years and years it won't matter what I look like, I'll basically be grown up," Yukine shot back.
"And yet you'll always be widdle Yukine-kun to meeee," Yato said in a baby voice, pinching Yukine's cheek.
"Ow, 'eddoff! 'Et go!" Yukine swatted at Yato's hand and then darted out of reach.
Rabou chuckled as Yukine ducked behind him and stuck his tongue out at Yato.
And then, and then...
He felt it, a faint presence, so close by... and a distant, high-pitched ringing...
The ringing pitched higher, grew louder, and a jolt of pain shot through his head from his left eye. He hissed and clutched his hand to his eye. Yato and Yukine's clamoring voices faded. Rabou turned this way and that, heart thrumming, trying to pinpoint that delicate sliver of an existence. The pain spiked, he staggered and caught himself against a lamppost.
No. No. He gritted his teeth and stood upright, drawing deep, ragged breaths. He was not going to let this... thing... interfere, not when he was so close! The presence was so close...
There. He took off at a fast stride, then broke into a flat-out run. He distantly heard Yato shouting behind him, footsteps thudding behind him.
There- there! A silvery strand like a line cast out from a spider's web, drifting in the shadow of a bus stop. The bust stop, the street, the cars and people flowing past, all flickered and shuddered as he gazed upon that finest of threads. The ringing rose to a shrieking crescendo in his head, the flickering double-image made his eyes ache, and the thread floated serenely at the center of it all, undisturbed, untouched.
Rabou stumbled towards it, reached out with one trembling hand- the double-image grew sharper and shivered- the bus stop, an ancient shrine, the street with its cars, torii gates rising above a shrouding mist, the mortal humans walking by heedlessly, a woman with dark, mournful eyes, the thread-
NO. He clenched his other hand till his nails bit into his palm, fighting against the vision trying to impose itself, and he reached out for the thread - the street, the shrine, the skyscrapers, the mountains, the shrine- stopping just short of touching it, letting it float just above his palm.
The howling chaos within was all but unbearable, the world around the thread an incomprehensible blur of past and present- he strained against it, fingers stretching out but stopping just short of touching the thread, letting it float above his outstretched palm...
The thread. A human soul. A wandering spirit.
"Hey!" A hand landed heavily on his shoulder, startling him. The world snapped back into focus. The air above his outstretched hand... empty.
Rabou sank to his knees, taking in deep, shaking breaths. He stared at the vacant space above his hand, as if the thread might still be there, if only he looked hard enough...
But, no, he knew the truth. He knew what that thread was- or rather, what it had been, many centuries ago.
"What the hell was it this time?!" Yato demanded.
"I saw... Kushihime, on the day that I named her," Rabou whispered. "And yet... it was as if past and present were happening all at once. I saw this street, here and now, and yet I saw Kushihime as she first appeared to me, so long ago, as if that moment were bleeding through from the long-dead past..."
Yato was silent for a long moment. "Shit," he muttered finally. "This thing isn't going away that easily, huh?"
"Isn't there anything we can do, Yato?" Yukine muttered to him in an undertone. "At this rate, he's..."
"There might be." Yato sighed and raked his fingers through his indigo hair. "I didn't want it to come to this, but I guess... there's no choice," he said grimly.
"All right, let's get this over with," Yato muttered.
Rabou glanced around; the stately and expansive shrine surrounding them was quiet, with only a few humans passing through to pay their respects and make their wishes.
"Why have you brought us here, Yato?" Rabou asked.
"This, unfortunately, is the one place I know of where we might be able to get some answers about what's wrong with you," Yato said. He peered around with a sour look on his face.
"Unfortunately, you say? This shrine seems peaceful enough. Is there danger here?" Rabou asked.
"For my dignity, maybe," Yato grumbled.
"What's this about dignity?"
Yato spun about with an aggravated yelp. Rabou turned as well; behind them stood a tall, older man with a lofty air about him. He smiled indulgently at Yato, waggling a long, thin smoking pipe between his thumb and forefinger.
"That would certainly be a new development for y-" And then he noticed Rabou. The smile faded, and instead his mouth pursed into a tight line. "Ah, I see," he remarked delicately. Sighing, he called out, "Mayu?"
With the characteristic flash of a shinki's transformation, the smoking pipe vanished and reappeared at the man's side as a young woman. She wore traditional red and white garb- it was familiar to him, but the name escaped him; a pattern that was becoming painfully familiar. Her bright green eyes regarded them from beneath thick, black bangs cut straight and low over her eyebrows.
"Well well well, if it isn't my old partner, Tomone," Yato said, sauntering over and nudging her with his elbow.
She smiled a little too sweetly. "Ah, yes, my former employer, who knows very well that I'm Mayu now," she cooed, and nudged him back quite forcefully. "Bringing unique guests to our doorstep again, are we?" she added, eying Rabou warily.
The old man raised one hand, hiding his mouth discreetly behind the wide sleeve of his decorous robes. "Indeed he is. Our dear Yato-kun keeps such... unusual company, does he not? Mayu, please see to Yato and Yukine-kun for a few minutes, while I see to our... new arrival."
Rabou's pulse quickened; perhaps there were answers to be gotten here, after all. The old man beckoned for Rabou to follow, and strolled off towards a garden at the shrine's border.
"Do you know who I am?" asked the old man as they walked.
"I do not," Rabou admitted.
"I am Tenjin, kami of scholarship and academia, and one of the seven kami of fortune," he said. "I am also known as Sugawara no Michizane. And as it happens, you and I have something in common."
"What is it?" Rabou urged.
"We were both human, once," Tenjin said.
"Bishamon spoke of my human past, as did Yato," Rabou said contemplatively. "So, then, there are others. Did you know me, in the past?" Rabou asked.
"Not personally, no. However, I can tell you that you are an old kami; very old, older even than myself. Older than Bishamon, too. You were already declining in power when she arrived here from the Middle Kingdom."
"And how I came to be a kami?" Rabou prompted.
"Well, I can't say with certainty, but I do know this: in life, you served your lord as a spy, of sorts, infiltrating enemy territory and bringing down his enemies from within. Of course, those in that particular line of work tended to have rather brief careers, let's say. One such as yourself would have held far too many damning secrets; your lord would have felt it prudent to ensure your silence, once your work was done. That's where your human life... ended, shall we say. As for your ascension... well, such a fate would leave behind a restless and vengeful spirit. It's likely that you ascended in the same way I did: your lord and his followers deified your name after your death, to appease your spirit and spare themselves the calamity of your hatred," Tenjin mused.
"My hatred..." Rabou echoed. His hands tingled again with the distant memory of a weapon in his grasp.
Tenjin cast a scrutinizing gaze over him. "I'm assuming Yato had a reason for bringing you to my shrine?"
"I... remember much of my past self. Yato has told me that this should not be so. I remember my first incarnation as a god, and I think perhaps some of my human life as well," Rabou said.
"I see. Well, suppose you tell me everything you know, and then I will tell you what I know- or at least, what I can guess," Tenjin said.
And so he did. Rabou told him what he knew of his past, and of waking up in the shrine in the mountains, and coming to the city, of finding Yato. He explained the strange, fragmented memories that haunted him, the way they overwhelmed his senses and came to him as clearly and sharply as the present, the sense memories of swords, blood, battles, and the Storm that his previous self had absorbed. He also spoke of the even stranger absences in his memories, the things he ought to know and didn't, such as how to bind a shinki.
Once he'd finished, Tenjin remained silent. When he spoke, he said, "Well, I'll say one thing for Yato. His visits are certainly never boring."
"Oh?" Rabou asked.
"He also came to me with that half-ayakashi girl, the poor human child who's now bound to him," Tenjin said, and the disapproval in his tone was unmistakable.
"Half-ayakashi... you speak of Hiyori-san?" Rabou noted.
"-San?" Tenjin echoed, eyebrows raised.
"My past self tried to slay her. Yato insists I speak of her with respect. I think it to be a fair request," Rabou said.
Tenjin chuckled dryly. "Yato has such... interesting tendencies," he remarked.
"You talk of Hiyori-san with such pity. Why?" Rabou asked, frowning.
"It's not natural for a human's life to be so deeply intertwined with a kami's," Tenjin said. Once again, his sleeve-draped hand came up to hover in front of his mouth and nose, as if he'd caught a foul scent. "Especially such a young girl. He ought to cut her ties, make her forget him, let her move on and live her life as a normal girl- go to high school, college, find a husband, have children."
"Hiyori-san seems quite happy in Yato's company," Rabou pointed out.
Tenjin scowled. "I'd advise you not to make it your business. Now, what is it that you would have me do about your problem?"
"Give me answers, if you have any to give. Can you tell me what has become of me? Why do I remember that which I shouldn't, and struggle to grasp that which should come easily to a kami?" Rabou asked.
Tenjin sighed. "To that, I can only offer guesses. When that stray awakened you, what she did was... unnatural. You see, kami have a life cycle, not entirely unlike a human's. Most kami are born as 'children', in a sense. Not born from the womb as humans are, but it's like birth, even so. Yato, for instance, would have been a kami-child once. And we do, in fact, grow older. Slowly, of course, very slowly. Reincarnation is a natural part of that cycle. And, yes, when we've been forgotten, fading away once and for all is also a part of that cycle, just as death is an inevitable part of the human life cycle.
"Each time a kami reincarnates, it's a fresh start, in more ways than one. It's a continuation of the cycle, but the new incarnation is a unique individual. Some things will stay the same, of course, because our purpose as kami remains the same. Ebisu, another one of the seven kami of fortune, has reincarnated many times. Even when he is reborn, he remains the kami of fishing and commerce. His personality remains more or less the same, because his purpose remains the same. And yet, he begins anew each time. Each new incarnation is the same, and yet not the same. Think of it as going back to the beginning, starting over. Do you understand?"
Rabou nodded. 'The same and yet not the same' explained little, but the idea of starting over resonated with him.
"Good. Now, it's true that we're meant to forget our past selves when we reincarnate. Carrying memories from one continuous lifespan is one thing, but to carry the memories from each lifetime, from our past selves who might as well be strangers to us? To remember our own demise? It would drive us mad."
"Mad, hm? I can see why," Rabou muttered. The incident on the street, the image of that fine thread which wasn't there, weighed heavily on him.
"I don't doubt it. Now, here is my guess: when that stray awakened you, by engaging in such an unnatural act, she broke your reincarnation cycle. The veil between this incarnation and your previous selves has been torn. These memories, these flashes you keep getting... your previous incarnation is, in essence, at war with your new self."
"What can I do?"
"I'm not sure. This has little precedent. However, I can give you a word of advice. This reincarnation was a fluke- a twist of fate." Tenjin peered sternly down at him. "If I were you, I'd tread carefully. You're unlikely to be so fortunate a second time."
"Yato-"
"Nope."
"But-"
"NOPE. You're staying here this time! Unless you wanna try being ayakashi bait again?"
Rabou scowled. Yato scowled right back, then turned on his heel, Yukine falling into step alongside him.
Rabou took a step forward. "Yato, if you would only allow me to-"
Yato spun around and jabbed a finger at him. "NO. No. STAY. Stayyyy." And with that, he grabbed Yukine by the jacket collar and vanished in a flash of light.
Rabou sat down by the kotatsu and sighed heavily, leaning back on his hands and tilting his head back to stare at the ceiling. He felt ragged and unsettled and jumpy, as if insects crawled beneath his skin. He felt as if he were waiting for something, some great inevitability...
No, of course, he knew what it was. His reincarnation was at risk, his very existence. What was he to do?
A round-cheeked face crowned by pink curls popped into view, leaning over his upturned face.
"Awww, Yato-chan left you behind again, huh?" Kofuku cooed.
"It would seem so," Rabou muttered.
"Don't worry, I'm sure you'll figure out the shinki thing soon!" She gasped, clapping her hands together. "Ooh, maybe I can help you!"
"No!" Rabou said quickly, grimacing. Then, at her hurt look, he hastily added, "No, no, that's... that's quite all right. You needn't trouble yourself." He'd heard of Kofuku's powers from Yato; he didn't particularly want a demonstration.
"Mmm, fine," Kofuku mumbled. The bell at the front of the shop chimed, and she whirled around, bouncing out of the room, hurt feelings forgotten.
Rabou shook his head and went back to his phone, leaning against the kotatsu. He could at least continue his education with the Wikipedia.
And then something occurred to him. He sat upright and held up the phone, studying it intently. Reaching into his pocket with his free hand, he pulled out the slip of paper with his phone number, the one Yato had given him. The one not too dissimilar from Yato's own number, that which he used to draw new clients. New followers.
On the day that Yato had given him this number, he had told Rabou that he wasn't ready to be a "solo act", that he must rely on Yato until he acquired his own shinki. But how long was he to wait? Tenjin had told him not to act recklessly and put his new reincarnation at risk... but was it not reckless to sit idly, waiting and hoping? Would it not be better, he wondered, to take matters into his own hands? After all, not all of Yato's clients required the use of Yukine's talents as a shinki. The boy ended up scrubbing floors almost as often as slicing ayakaski out of existence.
Tenjin was right. This reincarnation was a stroke of luck, a precious opportunity not to be wasted. And was he not wasting it, waiting around while Yato left him behind or brought him along as Yato alone saw fit? Was that not a kind of risk itself?
His mind made up, Rabou stood and strode into the kitchen. There he found something he'd seen the other day: an emptied jar containing a variety of pens and markers. He picked through them till he found some like the one Yato had shown him, then tested each one on the back of his hand till he found one that worked well. He pocketed it, along with the phone and the slip of paper.
"A solo act, indeed," he muttered.
There was a man scribbling graffiti on the train's advertisements. Noriko watched from the corner of her eye as he hopped lightly up onto the edge of an open seat, balancing almost too easily in the swaying train car, and carefully inscribed a nonsensical string of digits onto another placard. It had the punctuation of a phone number, but it couldn't possibly be a real, functional one. He added a message of some kind along with it, but Noriko didn't keep her eyes on him long enough to read it. Definitely not worth the inevitable embarrassment if he noticed that she was watching him. The last thing she needed was to catch the attention of some weirdo. And this individual certainly looked like one, with his outlandishly long silver hair. Was it supposed to be a cosplay of some kind?
He stepped off of the seat and dropped lightly back to the floor- too lightly, too slowly, somehow. He surveyed his work for a second, then turned and began making his way along the car- looking, it seemed, for the next suitable space to scribble his nonsense.
And he was heading her way. Noriko dropped her chin and fixed her eyes on the floor. His near-silent footsteps drew closer. Sandals in January, she noted, bewildered, as he stepped into her peripheral vision. And they were unfashionable sandals, too, utilitarian brown leather entirely at odds with his black-white-and-red sweatshirt and black cargo pants.
Her pulse jumped into her throat as his sandal-clad footsteps came to a stop in front of her seat. She held her breath, waiting; and then she heard the small pop of a marker being uncapped. She saw a slight movement at the top of her vision as he reached up. He leaned towards her- no, above her. And there was the faint squeak of marker on plastic as he scrawled his message on the advertising placard above her seat. And then he moved on. Noriko let out a silent breath. Weird things always seemed to find her, some weirder than others. Some strange otaku guy scrawling graffiti on a train was a fairly mundane type of weirdness, at least.
Noriko snuck a furtive glance at her fellow passengers. If any of them had noticed this strange man, they were doing a fantastic job of pretending otherwise. Well, if no one else was going to bring it up, then she certainly wasn't going to be the one to do so- especially given the peculiar particulars of her personal history.
It was only after she'd disembarked at her station that the sense of deja vu hit her. Why did she feel as if she'd seen that guy before?
Yeah! Can't say for sure when the next update will come, but it'll get here eventually, so keep an eye out!