Tsuki Kokuryuu did not regret walking through the shipyard though she surely had not expected this turn of events. Days for her were rather boring, a mundane trail of one to another that had gotten more so with the passage of years. She went to work, and while she did like her job at the small bookstore, she had started to wonder if maybe there was supposed to be more to life than just going there, the store, and home.
The fact she had few friends was probably part of the problem but in her defense they were part of that slow march of time that only made her feel more lonely. They had families, they had gotten married and had kids and gotten careers and busy and she, she had long ago settled into this and decided it was better for her to just be alone. Thoughts of relationships only brought up memories she much rather keep locked away until the end of her days, emotions that threatened her safety from within. It couldn't really be said her friends understood, she had kept much to herself and in their good meaning ways they tried but she couldn't bring herself to do much more than say she was happy as she was right now. She had time, she was only twenty-eight, she'd be fine, don't worry, don't fret, don't push. Yet seeing them happy in their lives and her standing where she had for a decade now left something behind that felt like longing.
The shipyard was not far from her home and she found it comforting to walk through it, peaceful in it's noise and vastness. Most days she came by she didn't even come across anyone, most days the sounds of construction and life felt so far away she was left feeling like she had become the last survivor of the apocalypse. She dreamed of that, of what it would be to be utterly alone, without anyone, without anything, the sole person in a world that suddenly became so different for it's emptiness. And sometimes she dreamed of the world as something entirely different, of something more exciting, of something beautiful she couldn't quite put into words; those dreams though were far older than this loneliness that had made it's home in it's chest.
Tsuki never had dreamed of the man though; he came out of nowhere like a bolt of lightning and her mind found itself unwilling to focus on anything other than him. He was unkempt and obviously mad, with eyes that sparkled with life far more than his body could contain; his hair was a startling bleach blonde, his clothes ratty and dark, he had stubble that gave his young face an unstable appearance and a smile like insanity itself. He looked at her and she looked at him, and for a golden moment she felt the ennui creeping on her before vanish in that bottomless gaze of his.
Suddenly he had her by the wrist and he spoke a single word, "Run", and part of her mind knew she should resist and try to escape. Another part screamed to take the chance. A third made her heart race as her legs pumped, running not so much beside him and not so much behind; he was considerably faster than her but she was at least trying to keep up as the two of them ran through the shipyard, through the metal and wood and signs of activity and life but lack of anyone in particular. Her breath came out short and puffy, formed in the cold air like steam from an engine, and strands of her long black hair found their way out of the messy braid she'd made that morning to try to keep it tamed. Tsuki did not know where she was going or why or who this man was but she came along willingly nevertheless, without a concern for why they were running. From what. To where.
The Master took his catch and continued, even when it became obvious that the Doctor was not there, that he had lost him indeed. He needed to get away, to hide, and only let himself slow when the hearts inside his chest told him it was time. Only then and only at that moment did he stop and turn and regard who he had found, grabbed and dragged along. As if, in some disgusting way, he was no different than the Doctor was after all.
She was still there, and alive, and though breathing rather hard, she was otherwise fine. Her hair was a bit of a mess and she fixed it with her other hand as he still hadn't released the one he had grabbed. She was young, like all humans were young to Time Lords, babies in the crib, newly born, too quick to die. He took a deep breath and she smelled of books to him, of pages old and aged with time, of gently brewed tea, of the sweetness of pastries. She smelled of loneliness and isolation, she smelled of curiosity and intrigue.
She did not smell of fear. That startled him and he tilted his head at her, regarded her and wondered how that could possibly be. Even in his madness he could see that that should not be; he had appeared out of nowhere and told her to run, he'd grabbed her hand and not let go. She should be scared, she should be unsteady, but she looked back at him with those eyes that burned and it wasn't fear that was reflected back to the Master but wonder of what was next. And of who he was.
He let go of her hand rather quickly, he wasn't entirely comfortable in his core with being looked at such. The drums pounded senselessly now within his skull from the second her hand left his and he winced, crouching down, slamming his hands against the sides of his head over and over again. Hard enough he hoped to break through, hard enough to let them out. Let them out, he needed them out, they were so loud, so terribly terribly loud, never before had they consumed his mind so and he hated it.
"Is there anything I can do to help?" Her voice was clear and warm and didn't cut through as much as ease through the cracks between each beat to make their way to him.
His first thought was to eat her but that never helped the drums and it wouldn't help his hunger. He was so hungry still, always hungry, because he was always dying. His second thought was that her offer was silly and exactly what he should expect from the mouth of a human, so self important that they think they could do anything when the only reason they were still alive was because of one bleeding hearts Time Lord. She couldn't do anything, this he was sure of, as sure as he was that the drums were finally going to break him in two at this point.
The third thought came suddenly to him as she touched his arm with a softness full of, finally, fear though not fear of him but for him. He glanced up and saw worry too, worry not for her safety but for his well being; it was such a startling thing, a strange thing, that made him think of insect girls and friends from so long enough their memory was crackled in time. His hands moved quick and placed themselves on either side of her temple; he moved them both closer and pressed his forehead to hers and forced open a link some part of him deep down knew he shouldn't.
The drums poured out but he had little control at this moment, his body and mind a wreck in the chaos that had occurred. Emotions and thoughts moved as well, the surface of what he was at the moment, of what he was inside: a Time Lord, the Master, the drums, hunger, pain, anger, loss, longing. So much longing. He refused the longing. He would never acknowledge the longing.
The link went two ways and he saw her thoughts as well. Confusion, concern, loneliness again. An essence of something creeping in the corner, of a disconnect from the world both her own making and of others. The drums seemed to startle her but he found them quieter shared, so very quiet; they lowered to a din, a mild heartbeat in the back of both minds, and he let his own curiosity take root as his mind healed and recovered. Who was she? Why was she there? Why was she not afraid of him?
She was Tsuki; it was a nice sounding name in the Master's opinion and meant moon in one of the many languages of this planet. She was in the shipyard because it made her feel at peace, because she felt she had so little else to truly enjoy in this world that a walk through construction and dirt and debris gave her solace in a world far too noisy and crowded. She didn't seem to know why she didn't fear him either, there was no answer save for that instead she was curious and worried for him; curious in who and what he was, worried for the pain and anguish he seemed to be in. Worried more in hearing the drums but they had quieted and the two were alone in the floating warmth of a psychic link.
The Master broke the link before it could get too comfortable; it would get too easy to let things mix, to blend, and he wasn't interested in becoming entwined like that with a human. With a woman; those ones had proven his downfall far too many times, betrayal left in their wake. No, not again, he wouldn't trust another that far again.
His mind felt clearer though after and he was able to think much more coherently. The Doctor was lost for now but he'd surely pick up the scent again soon; there was no way that desperation he'd heard and seen out of his oldest friend would disappear so quickly. He could not be satisfied, the Master was sure, until he had found and "fixed" him. The dying Time Lord looked at his hands; he was not convinced that there was really any saving from what disaster he had stepped into this time.
The Doctor was a guarantee then but that left what to do with the girl he'd picked up. She still hadn't run away and her own hands had fallen to fiddle with each other in front of her, some bit of nervousness that he was sure was her trying to keep from touching him more. Did she think he hated that? He hadn't entirely liked it but it wasn't as if it was the end of the world he supposed either. And she could be useful he supposed, a bargaining chip against the Doctor who was so terribly softhearted against humans. And while trust was not on the agenda, company wasn't an entirely bad thing he decided; he was not naturally the lonely type.
At least he wouldn't admit to being lonely.
"Come with me," he spoke and his words came out clearer than he expected; he felt strangely stable, though under the skin he was sure he was still crackling, still dying. But all time meant something, even tiny seconds, and he could relish this second of being himself again.
"Where to?" It was less a resistance and again more curiosity; it was neither acceptance or rejection.
He smiled and offered her his hand this time, she wanted touch, he wanted to kep her near as a possible tool; he supposed he could play at being the Doctor a little more, just a little. "Nowhere, everywhere, I'm hungry."
An understatement. She blinked at him and there was a split second when a small shard of his mind wondered if she would take it, if she would come. There had been so much loneliness, so much disconnect, of course she'd take this opportunity, of course she'd want to come with the Master and do whatever he wanted her to. But she looked contemplative of things and he was tempted to reopen the link, to what else was in that little human mind of hers.
Finally though she nodded and took his hand and he thought how warm it was, warmer than his, warmer than a Time Lord's ever was. Tsuki looked back at him and smiled lightly. "If you're hungry we could go to my house; I'm a pretty good baker I'm told."
He wanted meat. He wanted hot warm juicy flesh, to devour life, to consume and destory and leave nothing behind. His hunger was something deep and wrong, he knew this. Yet the Master's smile did not falter and he found the idea of baked goods not nearly as unwelcome as he expected.
The Doctor would be back, that was a guarantee, but he would have time surely; the Time Lord knew his friend well, and he knew that he'd be distracted and dragged off, redirected by some other force to some other smaller disaster, for they were all smaller than the Master. But eventually he'd get back on track and look for him again, find him again. Until then though there was no harm in having a snack and relaxing a little, just a little.
"Lead the way then, Tsuki," he said and grinned at the way she didn't question his knowing her name, didn't question him. Not yet at least.
The young woman tugged only lightly, he was pleased to see there was some hesitation in that, knowing he was the Master. But he allowed that much and followed her as she took him out of the shipyard and out into the world outside; there were so many smells, so many heartbeats, so many walking meals. He focused though on the human taking a monster like him home. He wondered if it was her being naive or trusting.
The Master decided that he didn't care which.