secondhandeye (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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string_theory2016-11-28 07:09 pm
secondhandeye) wrote in string_theory2016-11-28 07:09 pm
Subaru//Some
It had been a long day.
The new Diet building was haunted. Subaru, as well as many other spiritual leaders they had consulted, all said it would be as such. But the government insisted on rebuilding on the same ground.
Now they expected Subaru to clean up the mess.
He could hear the Sakura murmuring things in the back of his mind, that nagging itch that connected them growing to a din he couldn't ignore any longer, but tonight he could. He might need some help to ignore it, but he could.
He stopped at a corner store, leaving with a bottle of vodka and an instant dinner. The old woman saw him often during her graveyard shift, and was always happy to. The nana always teased him about what he got up to at night, but if she knew, she probably wouldn't feel quite as comfortable teasing. It made Subaru very happy she'd never know. She reminded him of his grandmother.
He didn't want to head to the Sakura borrow. Being in that surreal place always made it harder to ignore the Sakura, even if it was a safer place. And being in this bare, white apartment, whose walls he was so use to, was much more comforting. He set the food on the counter to let it cool, and fished his cigarettes and light from his coat pockets, before tossing it on to the couch.
The night air was warm, the noise even reaching this high up. A train line had run near his apartment before, the land had been unredemable, and it cut a jagged dark scar into the many lights of Tokyo. It was one of many. Plucking a cigarette from the pack, he tossed the pack to the table as he leaned over the balcony. His eyes traces the blinking traffic lights along the edge of gash, a dozen new creative traffic arrangement as the city strained to function and grow.
The new Diet building was haunted. Subaru, as well as many other spiritual leaders they had consulted, all said it would be as such. But the government insisted on rebuilding on the same ground.
Now they expected Subaru to clean up the mess.
He could hear the Sakura murmuring things in the back of his mind, that nagging itch that connected them growing to a din he couldn't ignore any longer, but tonight he could. He might need some help to ignore it, but he could.
He stopped at a corner store, leaving with a bottle of vodka and an instant dinner. The old woman saw him often during her graveyard shift, and was always happy to. The nana always teased him about what he got up to at night, but if she knew, she probably wouldn't feel quite as comfortable teasing. It made Subaru very happy she'd never know. She reminded him of his grandmother.
He didn't want to head to the Sakura borrow. Being in that surreal place always made it harder to ignore the Sakura, even if it was a safer place. And being in this bare, white apartment, whose walls he was so use to, was much more comforting. He set the food on the counter to let it cool, and fished his cigarettes and light from his coat pockets, before tossing it on to the couch.
The night air was warm, the noise even reaching this high up. A train line had run near his apartment before, the land had been unredemable, and it cut a jagged dark scar into the many lights of Tokyo. It was one of many. Plucking a cigarette from the pack, he tossed the pack to the table as he leaned over the balcony. His eyes traces the blinking traffic lights along the edge of gash, a dozen new creative traffic arrangement as the city strained to function and grow.
no subject
"I believe...whatever she is, she can't speak to you hear."
It was, he realized, a situation he was finding similarly pleasant. In here the Sakura's needy whispers were silent.
"...if magic is something that can block whomever is controlling you, I may be able to help. Would you like some tea?"
no subject
no subject
"I apologize if my furniture is not comfortable for you form, but please feel free to sit however is comfortable for you most." He said, before stepping into the kitchen. Under the seal he had no water or power, but there was water in the fridge, and the charm to heat it was nothing but a flick of his hand.
He brought the warm the living room, and knelled before the table on a dark pillow.
"Why are you trying to kill me?" He reached for his cigarettes, before raising an eye to the other "Is this alright?"
Attempts on your life were stressful.
no subject
no subject
"Do you know why you're trying to kill me?"