Chapter 1 - you too, be / Two twoo, three Three and Five, twoo / -do you read-
This is part 2 of the "Taken to T-Ask" series. You'll find the prologue here: s/14080995/1/T-Ask-to-Return-Prologue
Likely translations for the title:
A) "22, 33 & 5' 2"
B) "You too, be Free and Live, too"
"Sunny side up," Tanjiro put his order in with a resilient grin, despite the way his back ached from the long bus ride from the city. A little self-affirmation would go well with this early leg of his new adventure. He was lucky this little diner served breakfast all day. A few good eggs might help to keep his expenses down. He couldn't find anything on the menus near their stop without them, so unless he wanted to order something special...
"Our cook's new; I hope you don't mind your eggs scrambled," the waiter pleaded the lone man for patience.
Tanjiro tried not to wince. Those were not the only words he heard. And of course, his mind chose to settle on the ones that bothered him.
Eggs-head, thoughts, words, he heard all three where one word should be. Scrambled... he heard a different kind of 'scrambled' at first, but the word should be 'neuroatypical'. That wasn't a bad word, it was supposed to just mean 'different'. That wasn't all it could mean-sometimes other peoples' careless words made it sting. Even just 'different' meant distance, and difficulty communicating. Sometimes it meant a divide.
To Tanjiro, though, being 'different' could just mean... he felt the same as everyone else.
"It really doesn't bother me," -most days-, Tanjiro insisted, and barely remembered the silent thought a moment later. "Don't be over-hard on them." He smiled a little, trying for humor, and spared a moment to remember to treat himself the same. The difficult feeling went away.
"I'm a-shirred," the man over-accentuated the word with a grin and an unserious shake of the head, "if he doesn't learn, we'll poach some new talent any day now."
Tanjiro sighed and rested his chin onto his hand. Quiet but smiling, he reached out, "It sounds like you're waiting with basted breath."
The waiter groaned. "And here I thought it would be over easy with you."
Tanjiro's smile turned sheepish and he dropped it. He couldn't think of any more breakfast puns. "You win this round~" he gave it up with a chuckle.
The waiter laughed triumphantly before he realized, "What was your order again? I... got distracted."
"Sunny side up," Tanjiro repeated patiently, hoping he'd actually get what he asked for. It had been a long... a lot of things.
This time the man wrote it down. "And you said your name was...?"
"Tanjiro," he chirped, and scanned the waiter's name tag in turn. "Nice to meet you, Murata." He swore he knew that name from somewhere, but the good-humored confidence in the man's tone didn't match the jumpy impression of someone in Tanjiro's memory.
"Likewise! I hope I'll be seeing more of you around."
"I'm... just passing through, actually." Tanjiro absently rubbed the back of his neck as he gestured to the bus outside. He was hoping for more conversation, but-
"Ah," Murata gave him an almost-disappointed smile, and retreated to the kitchen too quickly for Tanjiro to apologize.
Tanjiro sighed and sank a little into the booth. Maybe he could have made a friend if this was his destination. Now it looked unlikely.
-You're just a waste of his time.- Tanjiro's teeth clicked together involuntarily. He couldn't unclench his jaw right away.
'He's not a waste of mine.' Tanjiro deflected the words in his mind. Then he closed his eyes, took a breath, and looked outside. His jaw relaxed, and so did he in time. 'I always seem to feel better more quickly when I have a window seat,' he reminded himself dispassionately.
It wasn't a long wait before Murata came back with his simple breakfast-along with a side of toast and a pad of something fried and ricey. Peas, carrots, tomato-strange enough-diced, but not all-together dicey. It smelled faint, but good.
Tanjiro didn't complain.
"Enjoy your... oh." Murata noticed the eggs.
"Scramble?" Tanjiro offered in good humor.
Murata chuckled too. "I can take it back if you want."
Tanjiro shook his head and smiled patiently. "This is fine. I'd probably break a few eggs too."
Murata's eyebrows raised, and he couldn't hold back from commenting. "You crack egg puns for breakfast and you can't make an omelet?"
Tanjiro shrugged as he unwrapped his silverware. "They always come out scrambled when I make them these days," he said. A lot of things did. "I'm not sure why." He looked away as he took his first bite, not wanting to elaborate.
Murata didn't catch on. "How is it?" he asked nervously.
He bobbed his head back and forth until he started to notice the flavor, then blinked in surprise. "Good, actually," he said after he swallowed. Tanjiro was used to plain food, and he didn't quite have a handle on how much salt to use. "I think it's the tomatoes? Or something... the eggs are better than mine." That didn't take a lot, to be sure.
But Murata let out a relieved sigh, and that made the compliment worthwhile. "If there are any more customers from that bus like you, send them over?" he asked hopefully.
-He means you have terrible taste.-
Tanjiro winced. 'Just simple. Uncomplicated.'
-Basic- the voice tried to hurt him with the words of another.
'Yes, the basics,' Tanjiro agreed to disagree, patiently.
When Tanjiro didn't immediately respond, Murata's posture fell. "It was a long shot, I know..."
"No, I mean-" Tanjiro gestured in frustration, mildly, "I'll tell them breakfast was good."
Murata couldn't read that either. "But, was it?" His smile was tense and a little fragile.
Something dark and bored stirred at the hint of fragility, but it couldn't work Tanjiro's tongue, so it gnawed at the rest of him instead.
-So easy even you could have done it.- Tanjiro's breath hitched; there was pressure behind his eye, but his expression was firm.
"Easy," he entreated his nervous waiter with a raised hand. Maybe not just the waiter. 'The cook might not be the only one who's new,' he figured. Tried not to figure. The word 'new' became 2 became 'new' again.
-A sense of hungry eyes and teeth flashed briefly around the word and- it broke again, staying 2. -The gnawing shape couldn't digest a 2. It let go, uninterested again.-
'The cook might not 3 3 only 1 who's 2.' Tense nerves made more of the words break, but the numbers held firm at least. The thought shattered, he forgot the words, and Tanjiro felt sure only he could do the math.
-I can never understand you when you get like this.- Something uncharitable echoed in his thoughts.
"Good." Tanjiro gave nothing back.
Murata regarded Tanjiro's bobbing hand and closed eyes thoughtfully. "...Was... it?" he asked again.
They were just talking about breakfast. He'd... have to try to get a handle on that if the rest of his adventure was going to work out. "Yeah," Tanjiro nodded. "It was." To him, it was the truth.
After a searching moment, Murata's tense insecurity melted away. He believed him. "Well, our cook will be glad to hear it!" and the no-longer-nervous waiter spun away to the kitchen to share the good review.
Tanjiro let himself smile after a moment, glad he could still make someone's morning, and went back to working on his breakfast.
"Not a waste of time after all," he breathed out and relaxed.
The sharp smell of fresh-fueled gasoline -brighter and different from its dark fumes, idleness and exhaust- mixed with dry gravel, dirt, salt, and the tempting smell of tempura... no, just fast food. Something fried golden-brown. Something that was nice to have, but Tanjiro didn't really need it today. It tempted him to overindulge, but he was full enough from the diner. The toast was good too. He mentioned it as he passed by the driver, who nodded.
Tanjiro saw someone else in his window seat as he pulled himself past the stairs-he'd spent far too long chatting with Murata after breakfast, but he didn't regret it. He was almost the last one on-board.
He sat down next to the newcommer and thought about pulling out his phone, but the bus was an old model and it would be a while before he could charge it again. An audiobook would have been a good way to distract him from his thoughts. He tried not to be irritated at the stranger next to him. He didn't remember seeing him on board the first time.
This man seemed younger, dull-eyed, and he leaned plastically against the window, watching the clouds. A long ponytail sprung from his black and teal cap, and a cloud-patterned blanket half-covered him. It was the middle of the day now; did he intend to take a nap, or was he just cold?
Cold and blank was the impression that lingered when Tanjiro looked away. Cold and blank and insubstantial. The loose plastic board between their padded seats dipped when Tanjiro sat down and didn't swing. He must have been light, but didn't give off that sense somehow. He didn't acknowledge Tanjiro's presence.
That was... fine? He didn't really need to, right?
Just... no more window seat; Tanjiro tried not to dwell on it.
There had been an empty seat on the bus and now there wasn't, he noticed as he looked around. The man in the seat across the aisle from him was on his phone. He had earbuds beneath his blonde, mop-like hair. The smell of fryer grease lingered, but the gravel and gasoline didn't as the bus started up and drove away.
'Not all adventures start out exciting,' Tanjiro thought, and relaxed into his seat.
For lack of conversation with the uninterested man next to him, Tanjiro spent the rest of his trip companionably silent.
That much was effortless, at least.
Tanjiro stood and stretched at their next stop.
They weren't far from their destination, but the sun had gone down some time ago. The afternoon was uneventful; it was dinner time now.
"I'm not sure what I'm getting yet," the older man mentioned to his quiet seat-mate.
Who, of course, said nothing.
Tanjiro waited while the rest of the passengers continued to file out.
"I can't believe we had a whole bus ride together and I didn't introduce myself. I'm Tanjiro," he waved and smiled a little.
"...Muichiro," the other one mentioned with a tolerant sigh.
Tanjiro beamed. "Would you like to... get something together?" he offered.
"... ... ..." and they were back to non-responsiveness again.
"... ... ..." Tanjiro added to their conversation, closing his mouth.
"... ... ..." continued Muichiro stiffly, a riveting reply.
Sure that he'd somehow overstepped but determined to leave with a smile, Tanjiro broke their silence first. "Well, I'll see you around!" he withdrew as the line to leave the bus dwindled.
"Maybe," replied Muichiro quietly, uncertain.
Strangely enough, Tanjiro didn't see Muichiro get off the bus with the others.
He did spend some time distracted by an outdoor menu though, so maybe he just missed seeing him.
This stop did have some of his preferred diet options available, so he ordered simple fare with an extra side of vegetables. It wasn't exactly what he was hungry for, but there were enough calories anyway. It didn't take him long to finish, and he had plenty of time to walk to the nearby grocery store and check if they had anything else. He was used to being able to find what he needed back home, and didn't expect things to be this different.
The produce section was florid and humid, with a hint of something tropical, though a few displays were missing their price tags. They didn't have exactly what he was looking for either, but surely he could work with this. A list of dietary substitutions from his phone helped him make sense of it. Nuts and berries from among the dried goods nearby could help-though he winced a little at their price. He found both dried and raw shiitakes, but not the powdered mixture he usually added to his meals after the sun went down. They'd be flavorless, but he went with the dried ones. The vegetables were different from the ones he grew at home, but carrots were still carrots at least, and there were little cardboard cups of them. He got two.
His budget for this stage of the trip was a little too tight for anything but water to drink, and he had packets of homemade tea with him. Restocking his supplements might be a good idea, he thought, wondering if his destination would even have what he needed.
Of course, to get to them he would have to walk past the deli case.
He stopped before he passed the floral arrangements-hydrangea and peace lily and something perfumed that kept his senses distracted. Maybe the gas station would carry the same things, if at a marked-up price. He almost backed out.
But there would be temptations there too. Tanjiro wasn't going to be able to avoid them forever if he was going to be out in the world like this. One deep breath later, and he tried not to let his hurried footsteps flop too comically as he passed by the whole thing.
He didn't even look, but hunger stirred sharply in the back of his throat anyway. 'If I just keep to this diet, one day I'll be done with this,' he told himself. One day he wouldn't be able to digest meat, and it wouldn't even smell good anymore. Then this awful feeling would fade, he believed, along with this strange sensation, this thing that had never even been a part of him until...
Now that, thinking about that really wasn't going to help.
The whole point of holding his breath was to avoid getting locked in another sense-memory and worrying the other shoppers. The whole point of his diet was to deal with these symptoms too. To go back to the basics and cut out anything that reminded him of...
-Starving teeth flashed before his eyes, his spine cracked with tension, a flash of heat settled at the nape of his neck.-
Tanjiro closed his eyes and shook his head. Nope! Not now. Not ever.
He rubbed his temples as he took the last few steps to the display. One of his eyes was blurry, but he could still see clearly from the other one. The display looked normal from his left side, but from his right, everything began to bleed gray, and within moments, he couldn't read the text. Tanjiro turned his head and led with his good eye, squinting, until he found what he wanted, and then reached forward. His hand looked normal on his right, but on his left...
Short, pale claws peeked out where his round, clipped nails should be. They were colorless and unstained, unlike his skin, which stood out in warm relief from the gloom.
'It's not real,' he told himself evenly. 'It's head trauma, and too much fiction, and worrying isn't going to help.' He grasped the supplement he needed to help steady him through the night, scanned over the back panel and gulped as the numbers floated away and changed shape on his left. He struggled to look only at the words.
"Can I help you young man?" Someone asked from behind him.
Tanjiro dropped the bottle. His other arm caught it reflexively. He let out his breath and answered reflexively too. "Um, thanks? But I'm-" he couldn't say 'fine', not while, as he turned around, he saw the people in front of him in stereo. Some looked almost the same, but every shock of red and yellow stood out. Some did not look the same-their expressions were vaguely exaggerated, or some element of their clothing sported jagged tears and teeth. He looked away quickly and down at the soft-spoken elder who'd gotten his attention. There didn't seem to be anything strange about her at all.
Then he breathed in.
Citrus, from freshly-used cleaning supplies. Fried potatoes. Fresh basil and cheese from someone's salad. Rotisserie chicken.
He sighed and relaxed. A little color came back to his vision, but it didn't return entirely.
It could be worse. It seemed this deli ran a clean shop.
His stomach wanted some of that chicken, but it wouldn't fit his budget.
...
"Actually, yes," he smiled toward the woman after a moment, though he couldn't read her name-tag. "I'm having a little trouble finding..."
The bill was a little more than he was expecting, but with some help, Tanjiro found everything he was looking for.
Most of it fit in his backpack too, once he got outside. The sun had gone down an hour ago. Tanjiro took one of his old supplements first-he still had quite a few, it turned out, but he really didn't feel comfortable without them.
'Maybe it's just nerves,' he tried to coach himself as he pulled out a notebook and flipped through to a partially-filled page. His breath was steady, but kept hitching near the top.
In small, careful letters that repeated almost identically over the rest of the page, he noted the time and duration of the episode. Then he checked a box that was almost always checked to note that the intensity had changed with his emotional state. He noted the exact symptoms, then recorded a little about the thoughts and events that led to it. These were different, but the word 'nerves' was repeated several other times.
He put the notebook away, then rubbed the back of his neck. A haze of heat flickered through his fingertips. Fresh air, clean water, enough sunshine-or one of those supplements, and this always went away. Any time now. It would just fade...
People passed by as he leaned against the building, and slowly started to feel better. Soon, his hands, and everything else looked normal. His back cracked while he stretched. Cool wind didn't feel so cold anymore against the nape of his neck.
-Yeah. What would have happened if you invited a new friend along for this- something hissed in his ear.
Tanjiro ran his hand over his forehead before stubbornly zipping his backpack closed and heading for the bus.
"They probably would have helped," he insisted.
A gust of wind cooled his face.
The dark voice left him alone.