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askdls;;jsfasdl : D		23.1%	[ 12 ]
I'M ON THE MOON.		32.7%	[ 17 ]
No, you're not.		13.5%	[ 7 ]
Yes, I am! D:		30.8%	[ 16 ]
Total Votes:	[ 52 ]

Plane Between Planes

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Post: 69130647_1 created on Fri, 28 Jan 2011 16:19:36 +0000
Posted: Fri, 28 Jan 2011 16:19:36 +0000

Generic test thread, get.

This is my generic test thread for post-writing and random things.
Needless to say, if you take anything from here,
you're a plagiarist and/or thief and I will report you. <3
Also.
DON'T POST IN HERE.
Thanks.

Plane Between Planes

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Post: 69130647_2 created on Tue, 01 Feb 2011 02:54:20 +0000
Posted: Tue, 01 Feb 2011 02:54:20 +0000

████ ▌x ▹ x 舞い上がれ花よ　空高く燃えて

xxxxxxxxxxxx ▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

xxxxxx dance away, hey, flowers, and burn up high in the sky

xxxxxxxxxxxx 咲き誇れ　夢を刻み付ける様に
xxxxxxxxxxxx ▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬
xxxxxxxxxxxx blooming fully enough to carve out a dream

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"speech"

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thought

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瞬きすらもできない程のこんな時代でも
ＥＶＥＮＩＮＳＵＣＨＡＮＡＧＥＷＨＥＮＴＨＥＲＥ'ＳＮＯＦＬＩＣＫＥＲＯＦＬＩＧＨＴ
x
信じてくれる君がいるなら僕は踏み出せる
ＩＣＡＮＧＯＯＮＢＥＣＡＵＳＥＹＯＵＷＥＲＥＴＨＥＲＥＢＥＬＩＥＶＩＮＧＩＮＭＥ

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Post: 69130647_3 created on Tue, 01 Feb 2011 18:24:41 +0000
Posted: Tue, 01 Feb 2011 18:24:41 +0000

████ ▌x ▹ x 舞い上がれ花よ　空高く燃えて

xxxxxxxxxxxx ▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

xxxxxx dance away, hey, flowers, and burn up high in the sky

The day had started off slowly, and seemingly had remained devoid of incidents since not much noise came from outside except for the occasional men calling out for each other over some trivial matter, or laughing together as they picked on one another. It was almost too pleasant to hear compared to the news of trouble somewhere in the city or the sudden event of an attack. The men didn’t know, but their vice-commander had been there, watching from a distance as the morning patrol left through the gates, the same way he did almost every morning. He didn’t even remember when he’d started to worry so much; he just knew that he wanted to see everything, and know everything, if possible, so that he could always keep everyone safe and the Shinsengumi strong and ready to face anything. It had become some sort of habit before he could even think of it.

But he had no time to be slacking like this. At all.

Shaking his head, the tired and edgy vice-commander forced the thoughts back as the voices outside died away once more, and he returned to his work. There was still a while left until noon, but he was quite in a hurry even so. If he didn't get to the end of the row of papers currently spread about on and around his desk, he was going to be in a really tight spot. And so far he couldn't say he'd had much progress, since as usual Souji had found the best time to come bothering him with his idle chatter and annoying ironies that bordered on mockery -- although Hijikata supposed he'd let it slide since he did make himself useful by delivering a few orders to the soldiers for him when he left.

"Tch." Giving a small noise of displeasure by instinct when, a while later, he was interrupted in the middle of writing a letter by Saitou announcing himself at the door, he raised his voice. "Enter!"

Hijikata's quick, expeditious tone was not due to the fact that he was particularly annoyed by his third-unit captain. No, quite on the contrary, Saitou was one of the subordinates that the vice-commander valued the most, as he was always polite and kept himself in line admirably. However, aside from it being just his general way of speaking which had become a habit due to having to keep the men in line all the time, right now he also felt extremely frustrated that he seemed to get nowhere with the work while running swiftly out of time. He hadn't been able to help himself. Yet, by the time the other man had entered with all the required respect and courtesy and sat himself in front of him, Hijikata had somehow managed to sigh off his irritation and looked calm. Call it another requirement of his function, if you like.

"What is it?"

"Ah." The other seemed to hesitate, visibly uncomfortable, and finally admitted with his head bowed, "...Fukuchou. You instructed me to come and pick up some papers around this hour."

"Huh?"

Blinking, Hijikata continued to stare at his subordinate in bewilderment, before finally the thought started to form in his head. Yes, there did seem to be a recollection of such an instance somewhere in the back of his mind -- if he thought really hard about it, probably from very early in the morning, when he was still trying to drag himself to the well to wash his face with cold water and properly wake up. Preferably without the headache he had making him kill anyone. Remembering it didn't prevent him from still sounding extremely taken aback at his own failure, and disoriented.

"Right. ...Right. Saitou." Getting his bearing gradually as he spoke, and standing up, he walked over to a corner of the room, from where he picked up a different stack of papers from the ones he'd been working on. "Take these to Kondou-san."

Sighing imperceptibly as the other relieved him of the papers, Hijikata sat back down in front of his desk, still going through the last motions of clearing his head. This was an especially busy morning, but it was still no excuse for giving orders to his subordinates and then he himself forgetting about them. This one had been harmless, but who knew if the next one wouldn't mean committing a grave mistake? Frowning without noticing, he wondered if he needed more hours of sleep. It was probably indicated to get more than two a night, normally, but he often just couldn't afford it. As he thought of that, though, he also remembered something else and looked quickly back up.

By then Saitou was already at the door, bowing quietly out. "I will return later to get the rest."

"Heh." Hijikata couldn't help that small chuckle. As expected of Saitou, he knew exactly when to read the atmosphere and what was going on -- he'd already figured out the papers weren't all done yet. But he didn't have the time to ponder that too much, or the captain would leave before he got to say what he'd wanted. "One more thing. Go get Chizuru for me."

"Yukimura...?" Seeming a bit surprised for some reason, Saitou stopped, hesitating again.

"Yeah." He nodded once, dismissively. "I need to talk to her."

"Understood." And, with that quiet confirmation, the third-unit captain slid the paper door closed and headed off with the papers.

This time, Hijikata could afford to sigh out loud, giving a look of distress to the papers still waiting for him, and the half-written letter he'd put on hold just earlier. He couldn't afford to panic here about this. Somehow, he'd get it all done before he had to leave for Oosaka at noon, and everything would be fine. If anything, he should be more concerned with thinking about the trip itself. He'd be staying in the city at least two days to discuss with a certain official, and convincing him to favor the Shinsengumi would be tricky. Which, of course, just like a circular trap closing around him, only made him think once again that he absolutely had to leave on time. Or, more rather, they had to leave. At least he'd remembered to call Chizuru so he could still tell her about it in time; that somehow relieved him a little. Although he still couldn't believe himself for taking the suggestion Souji had made only as a joke last night.

The more he'd thought of it after that, the more he'd somehow found himself actually considering it seriously. It was true that having someone with him who could quickly take notes or attend to him when he was in a hurry would be greatly helpful. However, he'd told himself firmly that he wouldn't pull a soldier of the Shinsengumi away from his duty here for such a trivial matter. If it was Chizuru, on the other hand, it didn't apply and there was no problem. What he didn't like, though, was the possibility of putting the girl in danger by bringing her along. But...

Well. No backing out anymore by this point. Now she only needed to arrive and be told about it.

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Post: 69130647_4 created on Tue, 08 Feb 2011 20:09:14 +0000
Posted: Tue, 08 Feb 2011 20:09:14 +0000

－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－

Y O U R X D R E A M S X S T I L L X B L O W X I N X T H E X W I N D XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
y x o x u x r xxx d x r x e x a x m x s xxx s x t x i x l x l xxx b x l x o x w xxx i x n xxx t x h x e xxx w x i x n x d
XXX AND HERE WE ARE ｡ X ☆ X M E M O R I E S X R U N X D E E P E R X A N D X T R U E
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx a n d x h e r e x w e x a r e . x m e m o r i e s x r u n x d e e p e r x a n d x t r u e
I ' L L x A L W A Y S x T A K E x Y O U x W I T H x M E x W H E N x I xxx
f r e e f a l lx ✩ freefall . xxxxxxxxxx
－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－

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AND THE WHOLE WORLD GOES TO SLEEP ｡ X a n d x t h e x w h o l e x w o r l d x g o e s x t o x s l e e p x .
as a child, the grand expanse the future must hold xxxxxxxx
DAY TO NIGHT X ☼ XX WAVES WASHING OVER AND OVER ｡
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx a x n x d xxx o x v x e x r xxx y x o x u x r xxx e x x x p x e x r x i x e x n x c x e
XXXXX Y O U X L I V E D X E V E R Y X D A Y X L I K E X I T ' S X Y O U R X L A S T

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Post: 69130647_5 created on Wed, 09 Feb 2011 06:42:39 +0000
Posted: Wed, 09 Feb 2011 06:42:39 +0000

Vrrhh... vrrrhhh...

The frantic sound of the cell phone as it struggled to get its owner's attention by trembling vigorously against the wooden surface of the desk broke the otherwise perfect silence of the apartment. No ring-tone accompanied the vibrations, leaving them to sound like desperate, voiceless calls that could hope to be heard only by chance or out of pure luck. And indeed, aside from stirring a single millimeter and making a very tiny sound in his sleep, the blue-haired man sleeping carelessly with his face stealing print from the papers of a magazine seemed to barely register the small commotion at all. It was only when the corner of the phone as it rotated on the plane surface brushed the tips of his fingers that Terrance finally gave a sudden start and pulled himself as awake as he could over merely a fraction of a second. Blinking rapidly, his own hand ruffling the hair on the back of his head almost as if to inspire a state of awareness in him with that motion, he squinted at the corner of the desk until he could make out the general shape of the phone beyond the blur of his own eyelashes.

"Sa... lem?" he mumbled over a hearty yawn, perhaps even one second before he actually saw the name displayed on the screen upon picking up the object and forcing his eyes fully open. With that, he accepted the call and put the phone to his ear, the silence of the late hour of night -- or early of morning, take your pick -- offering the perfect environment for him to hear more than perfectly. Of course that, even in his sleepy, confused state, he wouldn't be really surprised about who had called him. It seemed that his brain knew by instinct it could have been nobody else.

"Terry," she was speaking already before he could even make an actual articulate sound, and continuing in a flurry that was really difficult for him to catch up with and respond to. About airports, and tickets, and classes, and using her name.

"Huh?" was all he managed when she finally gave him a pause, and she was already continuing by the time he could think of saying more.

"That's in Russia."

"Hnn? What state's that in...?"

"Russian Far East. Siberia."

"...Oh." Blinking, the man finally realized the stupidity of his question as the actual meaning of the words fell on him like a hammer. "......Wait, what?"

"We've got a case, a major one, and we need to get out there as soon as possible."

It was probably those words that finally snapped Terry out of his grogginess, although he had probably already been heading towards gaining some composure by then. He became suddenly attentive, as if by magic -- and in fact, he wasn't even sure if it had been the actual meaning and implications of the sentence he was responding to, as much as it was Salem's tone. He could infer from it much, much more than just the "we've got a case" that she'd told him, and a small frown made small creases in the middle of his forehead as he listened to the rest of her indications attentively, connecting them with the ones from before that he'd somehow registered. He quickly scribbled down the approximate name of the destination (that he vaguely recalled) in a corner of the magazine, just in case he'd forget it, taking advantage of the small moment in which she seemed to pause.

"Oh, and good morning."

"Heh." She'd hung up, so he lowered the phone away from his ear as well, giving it one last short glance before stuffing it in his pocket. "Yeah. Morning."

Pulling himself up from his seat with a long, refreshing stretch and the small sound of bones cracking weakly, Terry figured he could at least take a few minutes to wash his face and drink some water to eliminate the grogginess from his brain and voice. It was hardly the first time he fell asleep doing something at his desk and ended up staying there, and he doubted very much that it would be the last, so he was used to the slight aches in his shoulders and neck. They'd go away in a while, eventually. Heading to the kitchen, he ignored them therefore, going about his business as intended. By the time he'd returned to the living room, one of the lights on his home phone was flashing quietly on and off, notifying him of new voice mail. He hit the button on his way to picking out a change of clothes, and listened as Heather's calm, knowing voice sounded from it.

“Hey Terry, Heather here. Not sure if you know about it yet, but you’re gonna want to check JFK. Laguardia would be a waste of time and Newark won’t get us first class seats.”

Right, right. Leave it to the psychic to... think ahead, no pun intended, and make his job easier by forewarning him of the things she knew that he didn't. Sparing only a moment for some general gratitude towards the woman for her help, Terry finished changing and sat down in front of his computer, scrolling off the screen-saver and calling up the website of the JFK International Airport in his browser. Getting the number, then dialing it and speaking to an employee about tickets wasn't that difficult after that -- although he did have to pass on the first plane due to the ridiculously large number of tickets he was booking (on Salem's name), and settle for the second. As expected, there was no direct flight to a region as remote as that, and they'd have to change to a different, national flight from Vladivostok. Conscientiously writing everything down in an orderly fashion on a paper he intended to give to Salem later, Terry thanked the airport employee and hung up. The next thing he did was send Salem a quick text message with the basics covered.

Taken care of tickets like you asked.
See you later at the office.

After that came the tedious process of packing, through which Terry did his best to pass as quickly as possible -- and failed. He hated packing, and although he figured, by the simple mention of Siberia, that the climate there was going to be the death of him and everyone else, he didn't over-pack on thick, warm clothes. Just enough to get him by for a short while, since they wouldn't be staying there forever... would they? However, he did take pretty much a full first-aid kit and an impressive selection of medication for all sorts of possible problems. Old habits die hard, maybe, but he'd rather have gone for ignorance is bliss -- too much knowledge made people paranoid and he was a prime example. Once he was finally satisfied and checked two times if he'd gotten everything, coming up with positive results, he'd ended up with a big rucksack that left it up to one's imagination just how creased and crumpled his clothes would be when he got them out of there, and a shoulder bag that he'd have with him on the flight with various small things he might need or want to have.

About a year back or so, Terry had finally given in to commodity and had found himself a really nice, cozy and spacious apartment somewhere close to his workplace. Just a few blocks short of living in the office itself, really -- but for some reason he stubbornly rejected the idea of actually doing that, so he'd ended up here instead. Due to that, he didn't bother with transportation, being perfectly able to carry his bags that short a distance while taking his regular morning walk to his workplace. Without noticing, as usual, a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips while he moved through the streets with the destination in mind. Years ago, this was completely not what he would have envisioned himself doing, but... It had grown complicated to explain what Redemption Incorporated meant to him now. A combination of many things, enough of them to put that sort of mild, affectionate expression on his face every time he walked in the direction of the office, thinking ahead about the day's activities.

Time seemed to fly by all too quickly and before he knew it he was already climbing the exterior staircase to the first floor of the building, and entering carefully through the doors that led inside the actual Redemption Inc office. Not the most orderly person in the world, but also not the most disorderly, he didn't spend too much time thinking of it and just dropped off his two bags safely aside, in a corner where they wouldn't bother anyone. Blue eyes, natural color unlike in the case of the hair, darted quickly around the room and looked attentively everywhere from behind fake glasses. But they spotted nothing that moved or even breathed, so he moved across the hall to the doors to Salem's office. Letting himself carefully in, he looked around the room for any signs that she had at least been there today, but there was nothing conclusive. Almost on his way back out, Terry stopped to admire the chessboard, as he did oftentimes -- not because he appreciated the exquisite make, in itself, but because, more rather, a certain someone's love for it, and for the game in general, came to mind every time he did. Smiling to himself, he shook his head a bit, almost starting to think about moving back out into the meeting room.

"Hey!" Salem's voice interrupted his contemplation with the ironic situation that of course she should have arrived right as he looked for her in another room. "Get down here. I need to talk to everyone."

By the time Terry was out of the office and carefully closing the doors behind him as silently as he could, he dropped in just on time to notice what seemed to be a small awkward moment. Maybe it had been just his imagination, but something about Heather's stance and demeanor seemed somehow uncomfortable. Then again, he'd basically just fallen into the room from the sky just now, so he couldn't make any sort of judgments based on some stupid small feeling he'd gotten. Maybe it was related, he noted, to the fact that Heather was holding her camera and seemed to have been maybe trying to shoot something like she usually did. He didn't exactly recall Salem ever getting upset or irritated with it though... pretty much, so maybe not.

"Filming already?" he chatted cheerfully in Heather's direction as he approached the two women, nodding in the direction of the camera and raising a curious eyebrow. An animated, pleasant smile formed on his lips immediately. "Today's mission starts off dangerously already..."

Giving poor Salem no quarter or pause, Terry wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her slightly closer, pretending to be ruffling her hair into an absolute mess. Or, well, half-pretending and half actually doing it. If ever there had been an unfair attack in the history of humanity, especially given their rather contrasting heights and builds, this was it.

"...with," he continued his sentence, fluffing up the hair one more time, "the fearsome monster of early New York morning phone calls, Salem Featherstone... who..." Letting go of the woman, he blinked once at his masterpiece and moved swiftly away, starting to laugh. "...Is badly in need of a comb right now?"

It was amazing how much this man could fluently say before anyone else had a chance when it came to things like these. And it certainly didn't speak volumes about his maturity, especially combined with the fact that, while Salem's hair had probably seen worse days and he hadn't seriously messed it up, it was still definitely not the same tidy thing it had been just moments before, either.

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Post: 69130647_6 created on Thu, 10 Feb 2011 05:16:32 +0000
Posted: Thu, 10 Feb 2011 05:16:32 +0000

This banner was made by me for Bring Nicki The Horizon.
Permission to be taken and used given fully to her only. :3

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Post: 69130647_7 created on Thu, 10 Feb 2011 05:33:38 +0000
Posted: Thu, 10 Feb 2011 05:33:38 +0000

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx －－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－
↻ ↻ XX I WANT TO SEE A NEW WORLD ｡ xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
i t 's x f i n e x i f x i t x b r e a k s x m e x - - x i ' l l x l o o k x a t x t h e x d a r k n e s s
N O X O N E X C A N X S T O P X M E X N O W ｡
SPURRED ON BY THE WIND ↷ i want to believe in this radiance we're struggling toward . x ↙ ↙
－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－

－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－
k n ow i n g x t h a t x s o o n x i t x w i l l x s c a t t e r x a n d x d i e ,
s t i l l x t h e x f l o w e r x k e e p s x o n x l i v i n g x s t r o n g l y
xxxxxxxx in VIVID COLOR ｡

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Post: 69130647_8 created on Fri, 11 Feb 2011 06:00:15 +0000
Posted: Fri, 11 Feb 2011 06:00:15 +0000

Slowly, one by one, the soldiers filtered out of the room in an orderly fashion, walking along the engawa and carrying their kenjutsu equipment with them. They were oddly silent for a bunch of lively men who usually filled the yard and rooms with noise, each and every one of them wearing a clear look of exhaustion on his face. And, as much as he liked fencing and liked to think he was almost unmatched when it came to his skills with a blade, even Souji had to admit an entire morning of nothing but training the recruits could be quite tiring. He could only sigh in relief now that it was finally over, and rub a sore spot out of his tired shoulder with his other hand. Giving a long, dragged-out yawn, he turned his head in a lazy motion, fixing the shorter man standing calmly a slight distance away with a somewhat curious sideways glance. Saitou, with his stoic and dutiful attitude at all times, often had a bit of a puzzling effect on Souji -- in the sense that he couldn't really figure out, oftentimes, if he liked the man or actually couldn't stand him.

"Hajime-kun," he said in his usual carefree, naturally familiar tone. "Next time I help you, you should warn me if you plan to keep me for hours like this."

Although he was calm, mostly teasing and only speaking for the sake of saying something, and the mild trace of reproach that tinged his voice wasn't real at all, it was no less true that Souji had a pretty insulting, standoffish way of talking to people. It wasn't something direct and straightforward that one could tag exactly, but his usual demeanor had that sort of subtle property to it, as if he had a hobby of irritating other people. Saitou, however, was perfectly accustomed to that, and as usual only pointed a very fixed look of mild, calm reprimand right back at Souji, not even so much as batting an eye.

"It's only your natural duty as an instructor," he said. "If you want to step down from it, you should talk to kyokuchou and fukuchou, not me."

There it was again. That ability of Hajime-kun's to mildly irritate him by simply his nature, without the slightest intent to actually do so. Souji's eyes narrowed a bit for the shortest of moments, the corners of his mouth gaining a small, imperceptible downward angle. Then, he turned away, the light scowl of displeasure vanishing slowly as he looked outside instead. It was probably, in the end, not Saitou himself that annoyed him as much as the fact that the slightly younger male was right. Souji was actually the head instructor of the Shieikan, the dojo that Kondou Isami had inherited and owned back in Edo, and now as the first unit captain of the Shinsengumi, part of his duty still was to handle the training of recruits. Despite that, he left it mostly to Saitou and Shinpachi, and only actually took care of it when he was in the mood. Which was sometimes often, other times not at all.

As they stepped outside, the matter was already forgotten, anyway, just like most of their idle chatter was on a daily basis. When it came down to it, Souji couldn't probably tell, but he actually valued Saitou as a close friend, and the reverse was most likely true as well. Except, maybe, when the serious nature of the third unit captain led him to be particularly over-concerned and obedient towards a certain arrogant, selfish and annoying person who... Souji guessed he should be referring to as their superior. Speaking of which...

"...Hijikata-san's been holed up in his room all of yesterday, too, wasn't he?" Souji asked as he found himself staring in the direction of the aforementioned room with a small frown. He'd be lying if he said he wasn't at the very least curious.

"Don't go bothering fukuchou, Souji," Saitou instructed on his ever-professional tone, stepping past the taller male who had stopped for his contemplation and moving ahead.

"Oh?" Souji raised an eyebrow slightly, resting the wooden katana he'd been wielding during the training session idly over his shoulder as he followed along. "As quick to jump to conclusions as ever, Hajime-kun."

Of course, a short while later, all freshened up after a visit to the well and wearing clean, dry clothes, Souji was only ready to prove that Saitou's conclusions had, in fact, been just as accurate as usual. It was only for so long that he could stand the idea of Hijikata locked up somewhere and not coming out for reasons he knew nothing about, after all. Not even Kondou-san had mentioned anything that could be it... Erasing the small grimace of displeasure that thought brought to his face, the young man returned to his usual, thin trace of a carefree smile. There wasn't anything to get worked up over, after all; being constantly annoyed and in a sour mood was a certain someone else's natural talent that he didn't intend to try and compete with.

As he reached Hijikata's door, however, Souji blinked in surprise at finding it open, the room empty with nobody within sight. Everything seemed to be in order, except for a few papers scattered about as usual, which was no surprise as everyone knew the vice-commander was often stuck with mountains of letters and documents that needed his attention. Of course, leave it to him to have finally moved out exactly in the short while it took Souji to wrap up some things and drop by, but since he'd left the door like that, he couldn't be too far away. So the young captain could very easily get back at him, probably, he thought as a thin smirk formed slowly and quietly on his lips. It was often that he got this sort of expression, and nobody who knew him had ever had reason to be truly happy about it. Hijikata especially, more than anyone else.

"Hijikata-san?" he called out, swiftly raising his voice in a casual, usual manner to sound perfectly as if he didn't already know the answer to what he was about to ask. "Are you around?"

Turning away from the room and lazily looking around in mild interest, Souji ensured that there was no immediate reaction to his words, before continuing his game.

"Hmm," he pretended to be thinking out loud. "I wonder if there's anything new written in a certain, very well-hidden book, the corner of which is so blatantly sticking out from under that desk right now~ This would definitely be the perfect chance to take it and see."

There was nothing really subtle about his words, and it wasn't as if he'd intended to be, either. If anything, he was doing this exactly to get attention and made no secret out of that fact; obviously, he had no real intention of going into the room and starting to look for Hijikata's haiku book. Although, if anything, it was definitely commendable how quickly he'd managed to spot the tiny corner of bound notebook that was showing from under a number of other papers and correctly identify what it was.

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Post: 69130647_9 created on Fri, 11 Feb 2011 21:55:06 +0000
Posted: Fri, 11 Feb 2011 21:55:06 +0000

Why did he, of all people, have to go to the hospital and act as some sort of lame bodyguard to a member he didn't give a single damn about from a team he was in for some who-knows-what reason he couldn't really explain to himself all the time? That convoluted, long question was what swirled through Shinomoto Yasunori's head over and over again as he casually walked behind Koji Masato, Project Halcyon's resident healer, who'd been sent to the hospital to do whatever pansy things he did best and help the injured there. He was sure, absolutely and one hundred percent, that he had better things to do with his time. Thankfully for him, the other male seemed much more preoccupied with checking out any presentable women and girls that passed them by and wasn't paying him that much attention, or things would have turned real ugly, real fast. The silence and lack of a conversation were the last fragile things that kept the situation from spiraling very quickly out of control.

Yasunori was not in a good mood.

Since the team had returned from the mission, he hadn't been. Although taking a shower and being able to laze around comfortably in clothes of his own choice, as well as, most importantly, far, far away from any lakes and temples, had refreshed him somewhat, he was still restless. All he could do was replay the events inside the Kappa Temple over and over again in his mind... and every time he stopped at Kazamuki. And at that moment when he'd almost acted on his impulse of shooting the loud-mouthed, crude and brainless male. Part of him was extremely unnerved by the fact that he hadn't done it. If it hadn't been for Kurosawa Shinobu...

Things weren't over between himself and Tsura, most definitely. Kazamuki also had promised, in his initial moment of anger when Yasunori had taunted him, that something was going to happen. And honestly, Yasunori just didn't like the idea that, in the end, the other male had been the one to have the last word. He wasn't concerned with a useless concept such as being childish or not; if it came down to it, he'd admit this to himself plain and square. And it was more than just Tsura that had unsettled him about the entire mission, anyway. Yasunori wasn't used to working together with a team -- he didn't like the feeling. Every single corner of his mind rejected the idea entirely, and the realization that he had, in fact, done just that kept him on edge.

He just wanted to distance himself now, and had toyed with the idea of disappearing again for a few days, like he had at the start when the first demon attack occurred. Some time away should help him sort out exactly what he wanted to do, since apparently he'd lost sight of any goal he may have had when he first agreed to join Project Halcyon. Back then, what Atsuki had said really made him curious -- and she herself made him curious. He'd tagged along with the idea that he'd only play this game for as long as it satisfied him. He'd never really had anything better to do, anyway. But now... Now all he could do was retreat behind the deep, quietly hidden feeling of strong hate that he felt for all of the members. Because he was sure, at least, that he hated them.

However, once at the hospital, things took an unexpected turn. At first, Yasunori had only stayed back, looking utterly bored and unimpressed as Masato did his job and helped those who had been seriously injured. It was only slowly, as he accidentally caught the healer eye a couple of good-looking women and managed to piece together why he was leaving them and others alike for last, that the smirk his face currently displayed had very slowly formed. Along, of course, with a certain idea that had been born in the back of his head. And then, the fun had started.

After a couple of times of observing Masato interact with these women, Yasunori had already gotten the general drift and had a perfect image of what he could do. He didn't even have to work too hard for it -- fool a basic sense like people's hearing, and only over the span of a few minor words. He didn't even have to think up whole sentences, only adapt quickly, which was something he had always prided himself on being able to do.

“A-ah, I see that your injuries may be more severe than just a couple of scratches ~”

Masato was just starting again, and so, a slight distance behind him, Yasunori carefully played his first experiment, testing the waters.

“Here, let me look into your beautiful holes,” the woman heard as her mind fell easily into the illusion, “and see if I can’t fix whatever –”

“My what?! Excuse me, sir, but I’d appreciate if you didn’t take another step towards me.”

It wasn't the best one ever, but definitely weird enough to warrant an instant rejection by anyone lucid enough to actually process the words, and it did its job, so Yasunori classed it as a success for a first attempt. Holding back a snort of amusement and reminding himself to look as if he'd had nothing to do with it, the illusionist easily gave a detached smirk by the time Masato actually looked his way. Not my problem, he seemed to say as he looked perfectly as if his only amusement was due to Masato's failure and nothing else, and the healer himself gave a small shrug before moving on.

Without suspecting a thing. This was perfect.

The next woman they moved to after a while was even more of a looker than the first, and obviously a rich person. Maybe Masato wasn't able to tell as much, who knew? But to Yasunori, who was used to the shadier aspects of life and to the dark side of human society, it was clear. The only reason why she'd obtained a spot in the crowded, full hospital while there were other people with far worse injuries than her minor scratches was because she had money to pay for it. To bribe someone in order to get it, more exactly. Not only the healer, but the woman herself deserved it, and so the illusionist didn't hold back at all.

“Hm …” Masato started, and Yasunori's mind worked at light speed to keep up with it as it formed the illusion. “What a disaster for a face. Did you sneak into this hospital for plastic surgery? I must say I am so relieved that you did~ You are the –”

As expected of a woman who probably considered herself high-class just because she had money, she didn't even deign the healer with a reply, but simply displayed her disgust visibly and turned away. Yasunori watched the obvious distress that Masato was attempting to control with what looked like only mild interest and a raised eyebrow, giving the same superior but perfectly calm smirk as before when he was once again looked at. You wouldn't have said, by seeing his face, that the illusionist was even the slightest bit really interested in Masato's problem, much less responsible for it and taking half as much enjoyment from the endeavor as he actually was. He could tell very clearly that the other's self-confidence was taking a very painful tumble down an extremely steep slope, and it amused him immensely to see him probably try to encourage himself as he slowly recovered his mood and decided to try again.

But, of course, the next woman only turned out to be a repeat experience.

Yasunori could honestly say the he felt something akin to pure delight as he stood back and continued to watch. It wasn't the line changes he came up with that pleased him so; no, if anything, they were pretty bad and unskillful due to how quickly he had to make them. What the illusionist took so much pleasure in was observing Masato's reactions, and seeing him spiral ever lower and closer to discouragement with each try. All while he had no idea the very person he turned to in order to silently share his worries was exactly the one responsible for his problems. It was Yasunori's perfect sort of setup. He stared Masato down calmly as the silver-haired male decided to approach, waiting for his imminent complaint with what looked like apathy when in fact it was a perverse sense of anticipation.

“Shinomoto, do you feel as if something odd is going on here?” he started, looking preoccupied, and going on a tiny tirade about how his lines usually worked, in an attempt to find an explanation. Of course, he reached one of the most pricelessly ridiculous conclusions, ever. “I think there might still be a demon around. A demon who was obviously hurt in its past by a handsome gentleman.”

Yasunori was about to snort derisively and deliver a pointed comment, when suddenly another voice got ahead of him in the endeavor.

” ... A demon? You don't honestly believe that, do you? “

As controlled and calm as he usually was, managing the quite impressive feat of feeling very strong emotions while at the same time seeming like the exact opposite to other people, Yasunori had a visible reaction despite himself. Hearing Kamiya Shinjiru's voice come from behind without the tiniest notice or warning in the middle of a great time was not on his list of things to experience before he died. His whole body tensed and his arms, which had so far been folded across his chest to contribute to his impression of comfortable boredom, now fell slowly back to his sides. In less than a second, he stabilized his expression once more, and the fixed look he gave the blond while listening to his self-righteous lecture was as emotionless as ever, but it was unlikely his first moment had gone unnoticed.

“Oh?” he spoke quickly to distract from that, and he sounded detached and disinterested despite his displeasure. “Long time no see, Shinji-chan. What happened, did you run away when you heard there'd be a little swimming involved?”

Of course, that was all coming from the same guy who'd been missing during the entire incident with the demon attack that was responsible for all these wounded people being here even now, and hadn't even bothered to offer an explanation for it. Leave it to Yasunori to be so blatantly hypocritical and not even care about it. His eyes narrowed imperceptibly as he continued to keep them trained on Shinjiru; there was most definitely a reason he'd chosen to say that, of all things. Yasunori didn't know why the blond male had been away during the mission, but he had no doubt it must have been something important for him to actually comply. And what else he knew for a fact was that, as a guardian of the two leaders, Kamiya would definitely feel something along the lines of... humiliated for not being able to participate, or something. Hero complex and all.

One might be tempted to think that, in fact, the reason he understood such things wasn't due to knowing people of Shinjiru's type all too well, but because he himself secretly felt that way about having been gone back then. Heh. Ridiculous. Just as much as saying that the reason why he decided to take his eyes off the blond soon after was that he had somehow grown uncomfortable. No, it was simply that a slight movement further along the corridor had caught his attention, making him notice a woman who had just stepped out of her room, wobbling insecurely on one foot and helping herself with a crutch while the other leg was covered in bandages. She wasn't bad looking. At all.

“Hey, Masato-san,” Yasunori said without hiding his mildly derisive tone in the slightest. “Isn't this your chance to show that 'demon' possessing women around here that you're stronger than he is?”

Needless to say, Shinjiru or no Shinjiru there with them, Yasunori still had the full intent of messing up Masato's attempt to flirt anyway, should the silver-haired male make one. It wasn't as if Kamiya had a sensor stuck up his a** -- although he did definitely have something there -- that'd warn him Yasunori was using his powers.

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Post: 69130647_10 created on Mon, 14 Feb 2011 06:00:16 +0000
Posted: Mon, 14 Feb 2011 06:00:16 +0000

－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－

┆ Plane Between Planes ⊱ x && x ┆ Sothis ⊱
are the only people allowed to post in this thread, thanks .

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Hakuouki copyright Idea Factory.

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Post: 69130647_11 created on Tue, 15 Feb 2011 02:02:20 +0000
Posted: Tue, 15 Feb 2011 02:02:20 +0000

－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－
XXXXXXXXXX ♈ ♈ X T H E Y X S A Y X IGNORANCE X I S X B L I S S
b u t x i x d o n ' t x t h i n k x i ' l l x b e x c o n t e n t x w i t h x i t xxxxx
EVEN ON THOSE NIGHTS STRETCHED OUT ACROSS EMPTINESS xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
xxxxxxxxxxx i x o n l y x w a n t x t o x l i v e x i n x t h e x p r e s e n t
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx I CHOSE ｡
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I'LL STICK TO X T H E X D I F F I C U L T X P A T H xxxxxxxx
n o x m a t t e r x w h a t , x w i t h o u t x e v e n x b r u s h i n g x m y x s a n d - c o v e r e d x s h o e s
xxxxxxxx I CAN'T LIVE IN ANY OTHER WAYS ｡

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Post: 69130647_12 created on Tue, 15 Feb 2011 04:24:18 +0000
Posted: Tue, 15 Feb 2011 04:24:18 +0000

A few days ago, when he'd idly retorted to Hijikata that if he wasn't allowed to go out on duty soon he might end up jumping the fence of the quarters and running off, Souji hadn't imagined he'd really be doing it soon. Landing swiftly down with little to no noise after having taken a precarious stability exercise on the edge while trying to calculate his jump, he stepped slightly forward to recover his balance and straightened himself. If he thought of it, he supposed this didn't really qualify as running after all. What he was currently doing was more akin to sneaking around and praying desperately not to make a wrong move and get spotted. Souji was not Yamazaki or the others of the investigation unit. Disguising himself and going unnoticed weren't his strong points; he was just trained to draw his sword and leap into battle, cutting down any enemy that moved. As one of the Shinsengumi's best swordsmen, even, he had to do it better, and quicker than anyone else. That was the narrow aim in front of him.

Yet now... he was even being denied that small fragment of meaning and duty.

Narrowing his eyes, the corners of his mouth setting themselves into the firm line of what was definitely not a pleasant disposition, Souji started to move without letting himself think deeper into it. Even the image of Hijikata's face and the memory of his tone, annoyingly arrogant and self-righteous as usual, were pushed back into the general haze of things in his mind. Carefully circling around the wall of headquarters until a point where he found an alley that would serve his purpose, he slunk off that way as best he could. The greatest danger of encountering anyone or of being seen casually had just been left behind, so he was able to give a small sigh of relief. It didn't last for long, however, for he had little time to waste even so.

"Tch." With that involuntary small noise to himself, the captain of Shinsengumi's first unit quickened his pace, making houses and fences and the ditch on the side fly past him like magic. He was a bit short of breath by the time he ran out of the back-alley, but his effort had paid off. Ahead of him, he had exactly what he wanted.

Kondou-san...

The name ran through his head like an all-too-familiar memory, softening his previously determined expression almost without notice. He slowed down as he glued his eyes to the back of the three unsuspecting men further along, blending carelessly in with the general, usual image of Omiya street as they walked on. Kondou-san... was out like this, with only two men of the regular troops by his side, fearlessly looking only ahead of himself just like always. And Souji wasn't even allowed to accompany him. He couldn't go with him. Couldn't say anything, and couldn't smile together with Kondou-san as he happily followed, just being glad for the other's good mood. He couldn't do anything, all because of... that bad joke of a condition. Who cared what he chose to do with himself? It shouldn't be Hijikata-san's business.

There was only so long Souji could stay back when he, himself, felt capable of moving out. He'd sit obediently, and listen to whatever Hijikata-san wanted... as long as it wasn't about Kondou-san. For as long as he could move and hold a sword, much like he still could right now, he wanted to be right here. Out with everyone else, helping and guarding the person he respected and trusted the most in the world, so that person could freely continue to realize everyone's dream. For that purpose, no one and nothing was going to get in his way. Even the man that Kondou-san himself trusted and relied on the most.

It was, however, quite a big problem when some while later, in a labyrinth of smaller alleys, that same person he was trying his to accompany even in secret was no longer anywhere to be seen.

It had all been too sudden. Confused, Souji stopped in his tracks, wondering if he'd even turned the right corner, or he was supposed to walk to the next one first. There was no time to check it, really. He'd lose Kondou-san's track completely if he did that. So instead, he rushed quickly onward via a narrow, long road that he... supposed went somewhat in the same direction. He didn't know at which establishment or kashi-ya the commander would be meeting whoever he was meeting, exactly, but he did know the general direction it was supposed to be in. He'd heard him talk to Hijikata and mention the district. Forcing himself to keep his cool and only rush as much as necessary, a bit pale and looking driven enough that nothing got in his way, Souji continued along as he refused to let himself panic.

And yet gradually, as he rushed himself along, the energy seemed to dissipate moment by moment until his agitated walk slowed down to a simple stroll, then to insecure hesitation, and then finally came to a halt. Of course he'd stop eventually. Come to think of it, Kondou was the one person who would probably never fail to guess what Souji was thinking. Frowning at the ground and standing there as the sorted out his own realization, the young man let his shoulders sag slightly. It was only his own stubbornness that had kept him going, not reason. He knew it -- that he'd figured out, in the back of his head, right from the very start that Kondou-san knew exactly what was going on. And he had been conscious all along, from the very first moment he disappeared, that the man had changed his route on purpose to lose him.

Kondou-san also was... telling him to go back to the quarters and stay put as he'd been ordered.

He never got to sort through it further than that, though, because a loud, sudden noise made his body instinctively tense and give a slight start. Hand flying to the hilt of his katana with perfect timing and precision, Souji pressed himself carefully against the wooden backside of the house next to which he had happened to stop, and listened. He could only make out pretty unclear noises, but as he drew closer step by careful step, they became a bit more clear. Hushed voices, and the sound of objects being moved. Heavy, wooden crates that people needed to work together to lift -- a quick look behind the nearest corner confirmed that much for him.

However, that aside, far more worrying was the single glimpse he'd caught of a sleek, long frame of metal and wood, seen by chance as it was being picked up from where it had been dropped. Along with several others of the same make. Souji couldn't say he'd had much personal contact with rifles, but he was pretty sure he knew one when he saw it -- and even more so that this many in one place couldn't mean anything that he, or anyone else in the Shinsengumi, would be happy to find out.

With only the thinnest metallic sound of not even a second's worth, his blade was drawn out a couple of inches, thumb rested on the guard and ready to push it out and into his hand faster than a man could blink. Now dead serious, without a single trace of hesitation or joke about him, Souji held his ground, reaching carefully for another look.

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Post: 69130647_13 created on Fri, 18 Feb 2011 07:59:52 +0000
Posted: Fri, 18 Feb 2011 07:59:52 +0000

"You.. jerk!"

Moving away a couple more steps to be able to admire his handiwork in full view, Terry gave a slight innocent smile at Salem's reproachful-but-not-serious look and shoved his hands in his pockets. Her expression was priceless, and he found himself just watching idly as she tried to fix the disaster he'd caused, unable to not relax at least a little. It was a feeling he wasn't sure he could quite capture or explain -- Terry was a man of science and not of poetry, anyway. But maybe something akin to... home? That one time and place you want to stay in forever, perfectly at peace. The way Salem was now, pouting over a minor, trivial thing, and actually enjoying herself without maybe even really knowing -- that was, if he could help it, how he always wanted to see her. How he wanted to see everyone at Red-Inc, in fact. Carefree and only surrounded by things that made them subtly happy.

"Hey friends~"

Even Hue's voice, coming from the stairs as the man descended them, didn't break that sort of strong impression. In fact, if anything, he probably contributed to it by his very nature. Hue always did stupid things and bickering or discomfort sprung up naturally in his wake, but Terry was probably one of the few people of Redemption Inc who'd never really had any sort of problem with his general behavior. Maybe sometimes he'd been aggravated too, who knows? After all, which two people got along perfectly? But, if he thought of it, not one concrete thing came to mind, so obviously nothing worth remembering was there. At the man's question about his apprentice of sorts, Terry cast a glance towards the entrance, wondering briefly if everyone was going to safely gather. Sure, maybe he over-worried, but you never knew with this lot. Salem's sigh distracted him from that however, and his thin, soft smile only grew when his eyes met the new look she'd pointed his way before moving her attention to Effy.

"Morning, Chanton," Terry said amiably when his own apprentice came down as well, but he gave her her own space and time.

He'd already carefully taken note that the girl, to him at least, seemed to be somewhat shut in from other people, and trying to force her to socialize openly with everyone would probably be counter-productive. Sure, she functioned well in a group when she wanted, and she definitely had her way with charming others if she tried, but Terry thought he meant another sense of being friendly and sociable. He'd wait and see. For now, she seemed safe and that was the most important thing -- not like he could've really said too much more to her anyway through the chaos of Sae Byul's outburst. Looking at her face, it wasn't really that difficult to guess what exactly Hue had done to her, and Terry turned his head slightly as he gave a small amused sigh, trying to exchange a glance with Chanton and maybe pass on some of his good mood to her.

"Alright!" Salem drew his attention back to herself as she spoke again, decidedly louder and more firm in order to get everyone to listen. Who ever thought the woman wasn't a good boss to Red-Inc when it came down to it obviously didn't know her. "Good morning, everyone," she started carefully introducing the situation. "Let me first say, you heard your voicemail correctly. We are going to Russia."

Terry stood back as he let her speak, lightly leaning against a wall and watching her pace, creating a very striking contrast between their very different demeanors -- hers agitated or dynamic, and his perfectly still and calm. He may have seemed as carefree as ever, even when he raised a hand to adjust the fake glasses he wore on the bridge of his nose, but the look he exchanged with Salem when he caught her eye for a moment knew better. Even if what she was saying alone hadn't been enough, even coupled with her tone on the phone last night when he was still half-asleep, it was obvious to him just how serious the case was. If others couldn't catch on to Salem's most subtle signs and behavior changes, he could see each and every one of them, from her tone to the smallest gesture. Even more than the actual words, which did make matters seem grave, those subtle signs were what mattered most to him. Keeping his impassive gaze fixed on Salem and giving the tiniest of nods, he assured her, whether she saw it or not, that he understood and he'd be there for her as always.

Predictably enough, an amalgam of reactions followed the revelation of the case they'd be working on, but the one that caught Terry's attention was Cody's. It was difficult not to, but before he could say anything, Hue was already on the uptake of that one.

"You know, in our line of work," the man started, and Terry couldn't quite say that what he was telling Cody wasn't correct, and completely the exact point the young boy needed to understand. Who would've guessed, without even realizing it, Hue was being more mentor-like than you'd have thought him capable. Maybe to the wrong student -- but his own was right next to him, after all, and ultimately they all were responsible for all of the rookies anyway.

"At least don't worry about the plane," Terry added, obviously amused but speaking on a friendly tone to somewhat appease Cody and slightly alleviate the after-effects of Hue's very direct approach. "We have first-class tickets secured from JFK, just like you wanted."

Noticing Chanton move by his side, the blue-haired psychokinetic shifted his attention and looked down at the girl, lightly patting her shoulder once in encouragement. She didn't seem to be in a particularly bad mood at all -- if anything, Terry would've said she liked being here even without realizing it herself. Just like everyone else. It was very easy to forget subtle things like these, and take them for granted. So, he made it his duty to notice for everyone, perhaps.

"Everything good with you?" he asked the girl in a soft voice, facial expression matching as he kept his eyes calmly on her. "I hope you're well-rested. If you need anything, just let me know."

Like a chain reaction, that seemed to trigger another thought, and Terry's demeanor changed a bit, to perhaps as much of a trace of seriousness as he was possibly capable of showing.

"By the way," he raised his voice, saying it almost professionally for the rest to hear as well. "The same goes for everyone. Don't over-exert yourselves, and if you don't feel well or an accident happens, don't hesitate to let Salem and I know. Better safe than sorry." Gaze swept over everyone present once, just for good measure, before the mature air dissipated into nothingness almost as if it had been an illusion, and Terry gave a small shrug and an awkward smile. "Of course, I'm sure nothing will happen, but I obviously just like to nag."

And it was good that he got that in while he still could, because very soon after Rui crashed in like a hurricane hitting the coast, causing a commotion of noise and movement and reactions. Terry's was maybe among the calmer of them, as he simply registered quickly that Vitale had arrived, so at least there was someone to directly handle the girl. He couldn't help shrugging a small bit in the direction of the man, as if quietly telling him he sympathized with his situation, and not to stress himself too much. It was, after all, known that Vitale and Rui got into... kind-of-sort-of fights sometimes.

"Take it easy, Rui," he said with a small chuckle as his attention moved to her. "I'm pretty sure the end of the world's still far away." He tilted his head, looking almost as serious as he was, in fact, not. "Maybe."

After the comment itself, however, he checked in with Salem one more time, mimicking a small sigh when he caught her eye. At least almost everyone was present, so they could seriously start thinking of leaving.

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Post: 69130647_14 created on Fri, 18 Feb 2011 21:34:50 +0000
Posted: Fri, 18 Feb 2011 21:34:50 +0000

As he took another look around the corner, much more careful and attentive than the first, he hadn't expected to see the men and their crates of rifles disappear inside a building to the sound of what seemed like animated, pleased chatter. Souji's expression quickly changed to a small frown of mixed origins and reasons, among which you could clearly count frustration. Part of him really pondered on giving up and just stubbornly continuing his pointless chase after Kondou-san, but he knew that if he left this group here unattended, it might spell out big trouble for the Shinsengumi later. Did these ijin -- these foreigners -- work with the Choushuu-han? There was a good possibility, although he'd spotted no sign of that as of yet. Still, although that was the worst case scenario, any others were still bad. The tiny shred of sense of duty to anything else excluding Kondou-san overlapped with the huge slice reserved exactly for said exception, and prevented him from actually being able to move away. He had to look into this somehow.

Keeping his hearing sharp in case the sound of voices -- or anything else really -- might reach him, Souji circled silently back around the house the men and their crates had slipped into and looked for another entry. Unfortunately, just as he'd expected, he'd seen them at the back door and there was, indeed, a main one at the front as well. Just as silent as the other one. The problem now was which one to wait at, but since hesitating didn't do him much good either way, he eventually returned to the corner he'd been spying from; if they'd been here once, he figured, they were likely to use that door again. All along as he moved around with such ease, his hand didn't leave its position on the slightly drawn katana, staying fixed and firm on the hilt, one finger hooked on the guard. A tiny wrong move could result into splitting his thumb, at the very least, and a much worse and far more crippling accident, if he was less lucky. Yet Souji barely seemed to mind that fact -- which he was otherwise very well aware of -- and moved with the same certainty he would have if he hadn't even been carrying swords with him in the first place. He didn't skip a beat, and didn't slow down from his normal rhythm for one second -- didn't even seem to feel the sheathed metal by his side, trusting in it completely.

It was only instinct that prevented him from drawing and slicing by reflex when the running footsteps came from behind the corner and someone nearly tripped and stumbled head-first into him. He managed to take a slight evasive move, and coupled with that person's broken momentum, it was enough to keep them clear of each other's way. He turned his head instantly to cast a sharp look in the direction of the hurried apology, but all he registered was a mass of blond hair the strangeness of which didn't even have time to truly hit him. Before long, another figure came clamoring past the corner with the sounds of heavy, foreign boots and accelerated breath. But most importantly, a small glint drew attention to the rifle in the man's hands that he was trying to wrestle into a different angle, which clearly marked him as an enemy in ways that logic couldn't even begin to sum up at that lightning speed of a single millisecond.

"Move," Souji ordered on a tone so calm and chilling it could've frozen the air around him. Obviously from those narrow eyes and spring-like state of tension, socializing was the last thing on his mind. Before the mind could even process it, one hand grabbed the shoulder of the foreign woman and he shoved her brusquely against the wall, without the slightest concern for whether she'd hit her head or fall flat on her face on the road.

His eyes didn't even glance her way, staying fixed on the armed man right in front of him as time seemed to stop between them and widen the life-span of a single one of their own heartbeats. The thumb pressed the guard one more tiny step up and the now-free hand that had pushed the woman aside already received the hilt, drawing the blade in a single move and adjusting it to be held. The sword was Souji's own extension, akin to his own soul, and the object he'd dedicated himself to using for the sake of his goals. It was, as such, fully part of himself, more rather than a tool he wielded. When he moved, it moved. When he stopped, it did. When the position of his hands shifted, adjusting the angle and grip, it flashed in tune with his movements and became part of the clean, dance-like cut that suddenly, before human eyes could blink, sliced a line of instant red over the chest of his target. Bright and full of the life it took with it, a widening trail from the left shoulder and down across to the ribs on the right side splashed out towards Souji. The move of retreat he took didn't save him from the few small stains that still plastered themselves across his own torso and face.

There were only two obvious things about him. One -- he was not in a joking mood when it came to these things. And two -- killing people was not a new thing to him, for certain. Wiping the blade clean with the dead man's own sleeve, calmly and implacably, Souji only frowned due to how inconvenient the foreigner's clothing proved to be for doing that before straightening himself and dabbing his own kimono sleeve over his cheek to clean the rapidly cooling droplets he felt dripping down to his jaw. At the same time as he turned around to point a fully serious, cold and fixed gaze at the woman whose life he had technically just helped save despite it not being his main intention, Souji held the scabbard still and, with one fluid move, sheathed the sleek, freshly cleaned blade that almost no longer held any trace of the kill. The same couldn't be said about the front of his kimono, however, on which a few stains were quite obviously apparent.

He didn't seem to care in the slightest.

The corners of his mouth were drawn downwards in a dangerous line, and the clamor that he could hear as several more pairs of feet quickly trotted around the corner didn't do anything to better his mood. His timing was perfect; the very next moment after he'd grabbed the woman once more and pushed her past the next corner along with himself right in tow, several more powerful gunshots just like the one before resounded from behind. Some lodged themselves with loud noises into the wood of the very house that currently shielded them. Only, that is, on a different edge than the one along which he currently forced the woman forward, arm tight around her shoulders and covering her mouth with his palm, just the way he'd first grabbed her. It was by far not a courteous gesture at all, and not even intended to be, coming from someone considerably taller than her, and definitely stronger and far more well-built. He only meant to silence her and pull her along by force, pressed to his side and half-immobilized, with complete disregard for whether she could even take proper steps to keep up with him or he'd end up dragging her.

Speeding quickly past several more corners and glancing behind, Souji finally crouched behind one, pulling the woman down right along in the dust of the road and holding perfectly still, ears listening to the noises that seemed to be pretty distant. He could hear a few shouts and an indefinite clatter about which he could only make an educated guess at being footsteps, but nothing close enough to make him start running again. It was all up to waiting it out now, and maybe becoming the pursuer once more after they'd completely lost his track. Assuming, of course, that he -- they, he reminded himself -- even got that lucky. For now, though, he loosened his hold on the woman, pushing her quite unceremoniously a small bit away from himself and letting her move for herself afterward.

"Stay put," he articulated clearly, with no trace of a joke in his demeanor, "or I'll kill you." In speaking to her, his tone was hardly any friendlier than his facial expression, and he grimaced a bit as he tried, with maybe a slight trace of disgust, to sort out with his own self why he'd saved and brought her along in the first place. Right. Because it was any man's guess that someone running from the enemy for her life could probably provide useful information about them, as well. Distrustful, however, Souji kept his eyes trained perfectly on her even as his chest rose and fell rhythmically while he sat catching his breath. After scouring her like that for a few seconds, he finally seemed to relax the tiniest bit, and risked another look behind the corner past which they'd turned up in here.

It seemed safe. Seemed, being the key word, at least.

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Post: 69130647_15 created on Sat, 19 Feb 2011 08:08:01 +0000
Posted: Sat, 19 Feb 2011 08:08:01 +0000

████ ▌x ▹ x 舞い上がれ花よ　空高く燃えて

xxxxxxxxxxxx ▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

xxxxxx dance away, hey, flowers, and burn up high in the sky

By the time Chizuru's voice was heard from outside, interrupting his monotonous thoughts as they followed the rows of characters on the paper, Hijikata had already gotten absorbed back in his work. He blinked at first, not realizing the intrusion immediately, and the girl was already closing the door after she'd entered when he finally raised his head from the documents. He couldn't say he was making quite smooth progress on them and he wasn't in much of a better mood than before, but somehow at seeing Chizuru he felt his facial expression soften, and he set the calligraphy brush down. The girl was always so polite, honest, and willing to help that he just didn't have the heart to stay in a sour mood with her there to see. Flexing his fingers a little bit, he let his hand down to rest, a small sensation that combined stinging and tickling crossing through it as it relaxed. Seemed like he had been more tense than he realized, concentrated on the work.

"Yes," he confirmed for her with a small nod and a tiny, imperceptible sigh. "I told Saitou to call you."

Somewhere in the tired tone that he didn't manage to hide as well as he thought, Hijikata must have sounded pleased with how promptly his request seemed to have been carried out. Or at least it would have matched the tiny, barely even existent smile that made the corners of his lips give the slightest of twitches for a millisecond. Almost conspiratorial, as if the girl were his accomplice and would surely understand what he meant. It was amazing how he'd managed to calm down somehow by now. He did figure, though, that he couldn't well afford to look panicked and stressed in front of Chizuru. She was a woman, and young, and overly worried already by nature. Giving her more reasons to do so was the last thing he needed or wanted to do.

"Chizuru," he started in a calm, serious tone, looking at the girl. Hijikata had a very straight-forward demeanor by nature, especially when it came to giving instructions. He never wasted time going around the subject and covering up with needless pleasantries or small-time chatter, and rather just said what was required. It was for this reason that one could easily tell from his tone when he really had something exact on his mind. However, this time he interrupted himself when his eyes finally fell on the tray the girl had brought and he noticed the tea. "Ah."

Blinking once in surprise -- how had he managed to miss that detail in the first place? -- the vice-commander tried to brush off the exhaustion and focus. Truth be told, tea always helped him calm down a little, and he was actually glad Chizuru had thought, for some unimaginable reason, to bring him some even though he hadn't asked. For a minute he felt almost as if the girl could read his thoughts, which was... surprisingly not that unsettling, although still a bit of a confusing impression. Disregarding that unimportant minor detail, however, he reached out over his desk and carefully took the cup from the tray, holding it securely with both hands and letting the warmth from the thinly steaming liquid inside spread to his fingers and palms through the ceramic. Until now, he hadn't even realized his hands were frozen.

"Thank you," he said, a bit taken aback, in that particular way he had that always made it sound more like an apology than an actual word of gratitude. Hijikata didn't like imposing on people, and it was a bit distressing -- although definitely not unwelcome -- that just by having her come here, he had already inconvenienced Chizuru and she had felt obligated to go out of her way and also bring him tea. For that reason, he took his time taking a slow sip of the warm-colored liquid, eyes almost drifting closed as it slightly relaxed him. With a much softer, obviously appeased tone, he hen continued, "As for why I called you... Well."

Hijikata himself didn't realize that his mood had lightened a little, and didn't even notice the small, half-apologetic smile that flashed briefly over his lips. It would seem that, despite himself, he had finally resigned in full to the thought that he'd be bringing the girl along on the trip. He gave up in front of Chizuru, really. There were just too many small things that defeated him every time and broke through his usual business mood. Although he himself hardly ever managed to notice or pick up on that fact. Even now, he just took another sip of his tea, this one far more dignified and perfectly executed, with no trace of the exhaustion or light confusion from before.

"I'm leaving for Oosaka at noon, on important business," he explained calmly, his tone suddenly firm and commanding again, a perfect fit for the function he occupied. "I'll have you accompany me as my assistant, so you have until then to get ready and report to the front gate."

His strong, unwavering voice definitely admitted no refusal. Looking at Chizuru, however... He gave a small mental sigh, closing his eyes for a second and making a small face, as if some minor detail had suddenly irritated him. It wasn't the case, but that was just how Hijikata acted when he felt himself soften against his will.

"If we have any time," he added, "we could look for any traces of Koudou-san there."

With that, he sipped the rest of the tea and placed the cup back down, nodding Chizuru away without allowing her to get into too many ideas of thanking him or being overly humble about it, like she doubtlessly would. He didn't need such a thing. Accompanying him and going out of her way to help were already enough; it was as if he were repaying her for her service with that to begin with, more rather. Dismissing her with a small, silent nod, he picked up the brush once more and focused on his papers, letting her go and get ready to leave at the appointed time.

For some reason, the work strangely progressed more smoothly after that.

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