Post by Fusae Umezono on Mar 27, 2009 0:02:41 GMT -5
[[ Tagging Fusae, for S Link Round 1 Goodness ]]
Souji was restless.
His uncle had been home that night and, while having everyone together under one roof was nice for the most part, everything had gone down hill once Souji had helped Nanako with her homework and sent her off to bed.
Since his attack in July, Dojima has been protective to a fault -- which was quite problematic for the Leader of a high school rescue team. And with the amount of disappearances mounting, there were only so many times he could come home late and exhausted before his Uncle would get suspicious.
Souji had yelled it out with Dojima for a while, the fact that this was the one-month anniversary of his attack not lost on either of them, before storming off to his room and slamming the door.
And now, Souji was restless.
Fuck it, he thought to himself grimly, pulling on a light jacket before opening up his window -- there was a cherry tree quite close that he would occasionally climb with Nanako when the weather was nice. Making a short leap, Souji gripped one of the branches and shimmied down the trunk carefully. He needed a walk -- to clear this head, among other things.
After all, he also had pressing business with a certain steak vendor in the shopping district. Well, not so much pressing business as Trying To Press Her Into Accepting What Happened. She had been the hardest to win over so far. Not that she was obligated to join them, but Souji at least wanted to make sure she knew what she was saying no to.
And so, shoving his hands into his pockets, he walked down the poorly paved street -- hoping that all this wasn't in vain. After all, climbing back into his room wasn't an easy feat.
---
Things had actually been going good that day. No, really, they had been. She'd snagged a couple extra in tips, had seen the brat lurking around the shopping district (she'd caught the way he never moved too far from her stand, pretending to ignore her but somehow always there. She knew when she was being spied on from the corner of someone's eye, dammit.), and was even ready to close up a little early. Slamming down ibuprofen and aspirin to kill the dull ache in the back of her head had helped her make it through the day, too-- but it had hung around over a week and she doubted it would actually leave now. In fact, it only got worse day by day, twinging sharply to make sure she wouldn't forget it was there.
...Okay, so life had really been a bitch, lately.
Like right now, there was Mochisuke Kimura getting in her face, that dumbass obnoxious bike of his (she swore, he'd loved it more than her; if he could have had sex with that bike instead of her, she never would have gotten a second look from him) taking up an equally obnoxious amount of walkway in front of Souzai Daigaku.
"--The fuck you mean you don't wan' ta hear it? I'm not here for my own good, ya know," he waved the envelope like a taunt, and Fusae wondered just how many more painkillers it would take before she could pass out until he left. Anything to get away from that greasy pompadour and spiked leather jacket. The swagger and challenging leer that had led them to their first argument...
Oh god her taste in men was horrible. Why hadn't she figured that out before she'd even talked to this guy?
"I'm not in the mood now, Kimura," she managed to grate out, more-or-less evenly. She didn't dare move her eyes from his; half of dealing with him was staring him down. The other half was letting him know he wasn't going to get you too riled up. "Get the hell out; you don't fit in here."
"Oh, like you fuckin' do. Load of shit, 'Sae. What the fuck do you think you're even doin' here yerself?"
Like he didn't know. Bastard.
"Fuck off, Kimura-" the letter was slapped onto the counter in front of her, his hand heavy on the polished steel, and Fusae's eyes narrowed.
"Otoyo missed 'ya. Enough to bug me to give ya this. Should've seen her, 'Sae."
"...If I'm gonna have to break your fucking hand to get you to leave, I will, you pencil-dicked--"
"--She really don't look too good behin' glass. Jumpsuit makes her look pretty dumpy, too."
The spatula flashed in the dim light of the stand, and Mochisuke jumped back just in time to watch the edge slam down on the envelope. One little sneer from him and she couldn't help it, she practically growled at him as he sauntered back to his bike, the blood pounding in her head. He got on that bike damn quick, though, when he saw her wind up to whip the cooking utensil at him. He was persistent, but not stupid.
And maybe it wasn't the best time to go looking for a chat with her; if anyone hadn't heard even a bit of their argument it was actually quite obvious from the way she crumpled the letter around the handle of her spatula and whipped it at the biker, the metal ringing loudly against the concrete where his bike's rear wheel had been, that this was a repeat of history that didn't belong in rural Inaba. Besides, no one in the shopping district had heard an engine roar like that since before the Tatsumi kid had gotten a bit too pissed on behalf of his mother. If it had been anyone else hanging around, other than Souji Seta, they probably would have called the cops and stayed indoors, ASAP.
---
Unfortunately for Fusae Umezono, Souji Seta was hanging around. And not only that, he'd heard everything.
But calling the cops (which usually meant "calling his Uncle") was the furthest thing from his mind.
Souji had just turned the corner onto the Shopping District's main street when the sound of shouts forced him to take pause. He would've ignored them and continued on his way, usually, but the fact that the source of the shouts was Souzai Daigaku caused him to rethink his route for that evening.
It was hard not to eavesdrop, Souji rationalized, while he moved as close as he dared in order to hear better. Their voices were carrying quite well, which wasn't surprising considering the almost cavernous quality of this end of the shopping district. The tightly packed buildings and narrow streets allowed the sounds to bounce right to him.
But he didn't like what he was hearing.
At first he thought that the stranger was just a member of one of the biker gangs who had broken off from the pack for a little private mayhem, but it soon became clear that Miss Fusae knew him well. Once he realized that a mutual acquaintance was being discussed, that solidified his theory. This man was here to see Miss Fusae specifically -- but for what? As the roar of the motorcycle disappeared down the road, Souji only found his desire to find out more pressing.
Still, it wouldn't do to be nosy, especially since he was trying convince Miss Fusae that they needed and wanted her help.
Any information concerning that altercation would make itself known, Souji told himself while making his way closer to the stand, if she was willing to share it at all.
"Sorry to interrupt, Miss Fusae," he mumbled softly while brushing his bangs from his eyes -- it had become a habit as of late. Besides, he figured it'd be easier to read the woman if he could actually see her. Currently? She looked like he was the last person in the fucking world she wanted to be talking to. Well, at least she was acknowleding him at all.
"I wanted to talk to you."
---
One day, she was going to wreck that bike, and but good. Maybe she'd fuck with the shocks while it was parked somewhere overnight, key the paint job, stick a radish in the tailpipe, something. Promising herself that helped calm her down from outright seething to just a more normal state of pissed and annoyed.
And then THAT kid popped his head around the corner. "Miss Fusae"-ing and all. God, if the grill still hadn't been cooling down from the searing heat it'd been kept on all day, she figured she would have just collapsed right then and there to smack her head on it. Of all the goddamn days-
Talk? Talk?
"Oh come ON, kid. You have the. Best. Godfuckingdamn. Timing. ...You know that right?"
She winced slightly at the own loud tone to her words, even the slightest bit of volume grinding unpleasantly at her now-throbbing headache. She just wanted to go home, pop a beer, soak in the bath, and forget the last ten minutes. Maybe read the letter, if it really was from Otoyo. But she had a feeling that freaking Seta wasn't going to let that happen anytime soon.
Boy was crazy, you know.
"Look, I'm thankful you saved me from that kidnapper or whatever, but, an' forgive me this, I think you have a bit of a screw loose, 'kay? You and your friends."
Because really? The way that time had gone down, where she had trouble keeping the days straight, could have been caused by stress and whatever she had been drugged with to keep her sedate. Had to have been a drug to make her drop just like that, in the middle of a fight with that hallucination; or maybe it have been the bottle to the head that she'd gotten from that... that thing? She didn't know, and she was all too happy to forget it, maybe with a side trip to a shrink.
---
He rolled his eyes discreetly. He was the crazy one?
"You're not the first to say so," he shrugged, looking down at his shoes briefly, "but that's not the point. And I can come back another time, but I really do need to talk to you..."
Souji trailed off, something catching his attention. Something about the air over Miss Fusae's head was swirling slightly. He'd only seen that happen a few times before, when the persona was especially agitated or intent on communicating with it's host. Souji's brow furrowed -- if she really was convinced that the happenings had all been a drug addled hallucination, then perhaps she had started rejecting her persona all over again. Souji had never heard of that happening, but considering how strong the distortion was, something was clearly up.
"Headache?" Souji asked as innocently as he could.
---
Oh, she bet they did. What highschooler charged to the rescue with swords? To a kidnapper's hideout that no one else had apparently known about? ...and then pop into the electronics department at Junes? It made no sense. In fact, it almost made Seta and his friends more suspicious than anything else.
Alright, that just made her head hurt more. No, not just hurt, it was a special kind of hurt. It was like having your skull slowly split open with a chisel. If Seta hadn't been standing right there, she wouldn't be keeping as straight a face as she was now.
"...You have no idea," she grumbled, rubbing at her temples. It did nothing to help; in fact, if Souji looked a little closer and squinted the right way, the swirling almost seemed to take on a more serpentine shape, with the trademark gaping jaws. "Look, kid, what's up that you need to bug me about, anyways?"
Might as well get all the pain over with now.
---
Souji continued to eye the eel circling above Fusae's head with the sort of subtle disapproval that only someone who had seen more Shadows and Personae than he ever really wished to. And not only that, but had grown to understand them -- if only on a surface level. She was suffocating it.
"You know what I'm here for -- it's the same thing I was here for last time," he explained simply, gesturing casually for emphasis, "How about we go for a walk? You're done closing up, right?"
His eyes flashed back up to the eel as it head butted it's host roughly. Fusae showed no physical reaction apart from a brief grimace. Souji sighed.
"I would leave the aspirin behind. It's not going to help."
---
Normally, people would look you in the eyes when they talked to you. Not eyeball the space above your head, unless there was something way more interesting up there-- She glanced up, frowning a little, but there was nothing there. Seta was just creepy, then.
Fine, she could deal with that.
She was closing up, there was no excuse to wriggle out of that. And she should probably duck out front and grab that letter (and spatula) she had thrown at Mochisuke...
She gave a little exasperated sigh, untying her apron and roughly folding it - only to toss it carelessly on a chair behind her - before flipping the lights and exiting the stand. She walked past him without even looking at him, unwrapping the letter from the spatula to shove in her back jeans pocket and then underhand-tossing the spatula onto the counter, where it skidded, and reaching back to casually tug down the grate.
"Fine, I can't sleep this early, anyways," she gave in, slipping on the grate's combination lock and giving the dials a spin, before walking a bit further down the quiet street, hands shoved in her pockets. Well, she wouldn't be sleeping anyways, with the problems her head was giving her, and she could use a nice walk to cool off, or convince Seta to stop hounding her. Maybe dip her feet in the river for a bit; a taste of fresh, non-meat-laced air would do her good.
"I've probably taken enough to put down a horse, I kinda noticed. Watch, it's probably going to be brain tumor - just to fuck with me." She paused, and shot the highschooler a look over her shoulder. "You coming or not, kid?"
---
He watched her finish up her work silently, running his tongue over his teeth with just a hint of trepidation. He wasn't easily intimidated, you couldn't be with the cards he'd been dealt, but this woman set him off somehow. She'd accepted her Shadow, and yet she had taken so many steps back once leaving the TV -- Souji didn't know how to handle someone like that. Other than persistance, but the idea of getting smacked or slapped didn't really appeal to him.
Oh well.
"Coming," he said quickly, jogging to catch up with her. The two walked in silence for a time while Souji glanced up at the giant eel, who was in much sharper focus now, glide soundlessly above them. The sudden clarity of the image must've meant the pain was getting worse. How had she not understood that this wasn't an ordinary headache? He wasn't aware that people could be so stubborn, but you saw something new every day when looking at the people of Inaba.
Souji kicked at a stone, breaking the silence, "Why don't you believe us, Miss Fusae? What reason would we have to lie?"
---
She was used to bad luck following her-- some days it was just like a little rain cloud over her head, determined to rain on her parade. Heck, it'd suddenly gotten a lot worse as soon as Seta had stepped into pace beside her; even the relative quiet didn't help. Every tiny frog croak or cricket chirp drove her crazy.
"Why-- kid. KID. I--" She paused, thinking her words over as carefully as she could manage at the moment. Wouldn't do to lose her temper just because of a migraine. "Look, I was taken, completely out of it, kept for who the hell knows how many days-" Oh, she was getting on a roll now.
"-Let's not forget I was smashed over the head with a bottle, and then I swear I was drugged the fuck up and probably had some weird epiphany-dream while tripping..! AND THEN all out of fucking nowhere, you charge on in with a goddamn crack team made up of highschoolers, destroy some fucking monster, things go crazy, and I'm suddenly in Junes."
...How could she NOT deny what had happened?
"Have I missed anything, Seta? Like, any fairies or whatever tha' teleported me home on pixie dust, or do you pretty much agree that something like that just doesn't go down? Because it's less thinking you're lying and more thinking I need serious mental help."
---
Souji waited patiently through her tirade. Let her get out what she needed to get out, he told himself. Him piping up to give his opinion would only set them back fifty steps -- and things were already going a little too insufferably slow with her as it was.
"If you were high or it was a dream or whatever you want to call it, how could me and my friends possibly know so many details?" he asked thoughtfully, glancing at her and the eel (who seemed to be getting angered by Fusae's vocalizing of her doubts), "I told you what happened. You were thrown throw a TV and me and my friends went in after you. We brought you back through the TV in Junes. If you'd just let me show you...," he stopped himself, realizing how frustrated he was getting. That wouldn't accomplish anything.
"All I need is a TV," he explained, "I can prove it to you then."
---
He seemed to sure of himself, so completely certain that, yes, that sort of thing happened every day why weren't you aware of it before, that for a moment Fusae was certain that they'd reached a sort of loop where even the craziest things started to make sense. It even came with that sort of quiet request that meant they knew what was going on, obviously, so why wouldn't you just catch up with the program?
Oh, what the hell. Entertain him, let him try to mess around with all the TVs he wanted, and when he failed she couldn't say she hadn't given him a chance. Maybe then he'd stop bugging her.
"Be my guest, kid," she smirked, more than a bit falsely. "I'd love to be enlightened. Hell, I even have a twenty-seven inch screen at my place that you're more than welcome to poke around in. Unless you're picky about it not being HD."
At that, another twinge went through her brain, as if it were genuinely trying to punish her for being an ass.
---
Souji snorted, suppressing a laugh as best he could. You didn't often see a gigantic eel whip a disgruntled meat vendor for being a prick. Still, Souji couldn't help but feel a little flattered. If he could thank the persona, he would have.
Quickly regaining his composure, Souji spoke, though his relief still shown on his face, "I don't think it should be a problem. We're not really concerned on what's playing on it, just what's in it." Cryptic, perhaps, but it was almost impossible not to be where the TV world was concerned. It truly was one of the things you had to see to believe.
Or see twice, if you happened to be a stubborn out of towner with an eel threatening to eat your head off.
---
"I--" but she had to stop herself right there. She even managed to tone down her "Boy you're crazy" look. She almost didn't expect him to just run with it so easily; she had been a bit of a jackass about it, and that had annoyed him plenty so far.
Fusae paused, quirking an eyebrow in her silence. It wasn't too late, she'd get plenty of sleep in tonight, either way.
"...Alright, I'm curious now. Lead on, kid."
This was going to be a laugh and a half. Hell, she had to practically choke down a snerk when they reached the front doors of Junes. And she knew the kid could tell she was only following out of the sheer hope of a reason to crack up today - not like she didn't need one.
Because right now, they were standing outside a rather large TV (bigger than anything she could ever hope to afford, but she wasn't much of a TV-watcher to begin with), and Souji wasn't even breaking his straight face.
"...This is gonna be rich," Fusae muttered, arms crossed as she stared at the screen next to Souji.
---
Souji shoved his hands in his pockets as they maneuvered through the housewares department, ignoring the woman's occasional sardonic giggles admirably. She wouldn't be laughing in about five minutes, Souji could feel some of his retribution then. He glanced up at the eel, who seemed to be watching him as well. They'd both be feeling some retribution, he mentally corrected, smiling at the eel politely.
Finally -- the electronics department. The Mayonaka TV. Deserted as it ever was, despite the fact that it was getting more in depth use than any other TV in Inaba. Souji leaned against the familiar television, looking up at Fusae without bothering to mask the intensity of his stare.
"Are you paying attention?" Souji asked, sounding almost relaxed if you ignored the determination etched into his young face, making him suddenly look much older than he was.
---
If there was one thing this kid had down, it was dramatics. Not many kids she knew could act like that -- at this rate, maybe he'd be better off on a TV show where they pulled pranks. She was almost ready for a camera crew to pop out, or for this to come to a screeching halt in utter failure.
She made a little 'go-on-ahead' gesture with her hand, cocking a hip slightly to the side as she watched the kid. He was lucky no one was watching them, or this would just end up humiliating. She'd try not to cackle too much, anyways-- too loud and her head would split.
....Needless to say it, but she didn't get to laugh at all.
---
The plasma surface of the wide screen television rippled as Souji placed his hand against it. There was no resistance against him -- almost as if the screen itself was not physically present. Perhaps after countless times jumping through this screen, the shock of his body disappearing through a solid piece of electrical equipment had worn off.
But to anyone else watching, it was hardly that easy to accept. Souji's hand had simply been there, and now it was not.
"So," Souji asked, keeping his enjoyment over her slack jawed expression well hidden, "Still convinced that it was a dream?"
---
She'd... taken about a dozen aspirin today, right? Had to have done so, by now. Headache still wasn't gone, a dozen aspirin down her throat. Could you get hallucinations from aspirin? Nah. Maybe his crazy was just rubbing off on her, now. That almost made sense.
The smirk had left; instead, Fusae had her eyes narrowed at Souji's missing hand, having just caught herself from letting out a surprisedly yelled string of curses.
"...you are fucking shitting me." She couldn't break her eyes from the way his hand was plunged in the... the obviously-not-so-solid screen. "...Did I get hit on th' head again, on my way over here, by any chance?"
If she hadn't, then maybe the kid wasn't that crazy. Well, maybe not crazier than her.
---
Souji removed his hand again, rubbing it lightly out of discomfort. The atmosphere was different on the other side -- more condensed and heavy. It always felt a little strange to exist in the two places simultaneously.
"You did," Souji explained cryptically, "but not by anything tangible."
The ashen boy whipped out his cellphone casually, punching out a familiar number before pausing a beat to let it ring. "Yosuke-kun? Is Teddie there? Yeah, I'll hold on." There were a few loud yells from the reciever, forcing Souji to hold it a little away from his ear while he waited. The loud cry of 'YES, SENSEI' from the other line prompted Souji to return the phone to his ear.
"Teddie, I'm taking someone into the TV. Can you get down to Junes? We'll need someone to let us out once we're through." There were a few more loud shrieks from the other end, though Souji's expression barely changed, "Thanks, Ted, I'll see you."
"C'mon," Souji smiled, pocketing his phone, "let's get rid of that headache."
---
Kid was making less sense than one of the damn fortune cookies she got at Aiya's, and that really was something.
She tried not to listen too hard to Seta's phone call, instead focusing running her fingers along the TV, almost gently as if it might bite, avoiding touching the actual screen. And then he said "In the TV", and she snapped to attention.
"Wait, what- you want me to go in there? Seta, that's a fucking Twilight zone. You don't solve headaches by jumping into a deathtrap screen...thing."
Then she paused, because what the hell, how much worse could it get? If she died, then at least the headache would go with her; besides, Seta was weird, but not to the point where he'd just willingly off himself.
At least, she told herself that as she shoved her hands in her pockets and grumbled out, "Fine. We'll do this your way."
---
He tugged on his sleeves, waiting for her frenzied tantrum to come to a close. He wasn't about to judge her -- hell, it was mild to the way Chie and Yosuke had first reacted to Souji disappearing into the TV. He could afford to be patient.
"Alright," he nodded, reaching out to hold onto Umezono's shoulder, bracing her for the inevitable jump, "Try to brace yourself as you land. It's a bit of a fall."
---
"Yeah, yeah, fine," she grumped, too busy staring at the screen like it was ready to rear up and bite her to bother registering much else.
A bit of a fall. Right. Jump in a TV and fall. If she hadn't already thrown basic physics and sense out the door once Seta'd waved his hand around the TV, she probably would have spazzed and ran the moment he touched her. Instead, she simply braced herself, because it was just a TV. The bottom of the screen hit, what, a foot and a half off the ground? No big deal.
It was a foot and a half that lasted for infinity.
((Continued here: midnighttv.proboards.com/index.cgi?board=studio&action=display&thread=42&page=1 ))
Souji was restless.
His uncle had been home that night and, while having everyone together under one roof was nice for the most part, everything had gone down hill once Souji had helped Nanako with her homework and sent her off to bed.
Since his attack in July, Dojima has been protective to a fault -- which was quite problematic for the Leader of a high school rescue team. And with the amount of disappearances mounting, there were only so many times he could come home late and exhausted before his Uncle would get suspicious.
Souji had yelled it out with Dojima for a while, the fact that this was the one-month anniversary of his attack not lost on either of them, before storming off to his room and slamming the door.
And now, Souji was restless.
Fuck it, he thought to himself grimly, pulling on a light jacket before opening up his window -- there was a cherry tree quite close that he would occasionally climb with Nanako when the weather was nice. Making a short leap, Souji gripped one of the branches and shimmied down the trunk carefully. He needed a walk -- to clear this head, among other things.
After all, he also had pressing business with a certain steak vendor in the shopping district. Well, not so much pressing business as Trying To Press Her Into Accepting What Happened. She had been the hardest to win over so far. Not that she was obligated to join them, but Souji at least wanted to make sure she knew what she was saying no to.
And so, shoving his hands into his pockets, he walked down the poorly paved street -- hoping that all this wasn't in vain. After all, climbing back into his room wasn't an easy feat.
---
Things had actually been going good that day. No, really, they had been. She'd snagged a couple extra in tips, had seen the brat lurking around the shopping district (she'd caught the way he never moved too far from her stand, pretending to ignore her but somehow always there. She knew when she was being spied on from the corner of someone's eye, dammit.), and was even ready to close up a little early. Slamming down ibuprofen and aspirin to kill the dull ache in the back of her head had helped her make it through the day, too-- but it had hung around over a week and she doubted it would actually leave now. In fact, it only got worse day by day, twinging sharply to make sure she wouldn't forget it was there.
...Okay, so life had really been a bitch, lately.
Like right now, there was Mochisuke Kimura getting in her face, that dumbass obnoxious bike of his (she swore, he'd loved it more than her; if he could have had sex with that bike instead of her, she never would have gotten a second look from him) taking up an equally obnoxious amount of walkway in front of Souzai Daigaku.
"--The fuck you mean you don't wan' ta hear it? I'm not here for my own good, ya know," he waved the envelope like a taunt, and Fusae wondered just how many more painkillers it would take before she could pass out until he left. Anything to get away from that greasy pompadour and spiked leather jacket. The swagger and challenging leer that had led them to their first argument...
Oh god her taste in men was horrible. Why hadn't she figured that out before she'd even talked to this guy?
"I'm not in the mood now, Kimura," she managed to grate out, more-or-less evenly. She didn't dare move her eyes from his; half of dealing with him was staring him down. The other half was letting him know he wasn't going to get you too riled up. "Get the hell out; you don't fit in here."
"Oh, like you fuckin' do. Load of shit, 'Sae. What the fuck do you think you're even doin' here yerself?"
Like he didn't know. Bastard.
"Fuck off, Kimura-" the letter was slapped onto the counter in front of her, his hand heavy on the polished steel, and Fusae's eyes narrowed.
"Otoyo missed 'ya. Enough to bug me to give ya this. Should've seen her, 'Sae."
"...If I'm gonna have to break your fucking hand to get you to leave, I will, you pencil-dicked--"
"--She really don't look too good behin' glass. Jumpsuit makes her look pretty dumpy, too."
The spatula flashed in the dim light of the stand, and Mochisuke jumped back just in time to watch the edge slam down on the envelope. One little sneer from him and she couldn't help it, she practically growled at him as he sauntered back to his bike, the blood pounding in her head. He got on that bike damn quick, though, when he saw her wind up to whip the cooking utensil at him. He was persistent, but not stupid.
And maybe it wasn't the best time to go looking for a chat with her; if anyone hadn't heard even a bit of their argument it was actually quite obvious from the way she crumpled the letter around the handle of her spatula and whipped it at the biker, the metal ringing loudly against the concrete where his bike's rear wheel had been, that this was a repeat of history that didn't belong in rural Inaba. Besides, no one in the shopping district had heard an engine roar like that since before the Tatsumi kid had gotten a bit too pissed on behalf of his mother. If it had been anyone else hanging around, other than Souji Seta, they probably would have called the cops and stayed indoors, ASAP.
---
Unfortunately for Fusae Umezono, Souji Seta was hanging around. And not only that, he'd heard everything.
But calling the cops (which usually meant "calling his Uncle") was the furthest thing from his mind.
Souji had just turned the corner onto the Shopping District's main street when the sound of shouts forced him to take pause. He would've ignored them and continued on his way, usually, but the fact that the source of the shouts was Souzai Daigaku caused him to rethink his route for that evening.
It was hard not to eavesdrop, Souji rationalized, while he moved as close as he dared in order to hear better. Their voices were carrying quite well, which wasn't surprising considering the almost cavernous quality of this end of the shopping district. The tightly packed buildings and narrow streets allowed the sounds to bounce right to him.
But he didn't like what he was hearing.
At first he thought that the stranger was just a member of one of the biker gangs who had broken off from the pack for a little private mayhem, but it soon became clear that Miss Fusae knew him well. Once he realized that a mutual acquaintance was being discussed, that solidified his theory. This man was here to see Miss Fusae specifically -- but for what? As the roar of the motorcycle disappeared down the road, Souji only found his desire to find out more pressing.
Still, it wouldn't do to be nosy, especially since he was trying convince Miss Fusae that they needed and wanted her help.
Any information concerning that altercation would make itself known, Souji told himself while making his way closer to the stand, if she was willing to share it at all.
"Sorry to interrupt, Miss Fusae," he mumbled softly while brushing his bangs from his eyes -- it had become a habit as of late. Besides, he figured it'd be easier to read the woman if he could actually see her. Currently? She looked like he was the last person in the fucking world she wanted to be talking to. Well, at least she was acknowleding him at all.
"I wanted to talk to you."
---
One day, she was going to wreck that bike, and but good. Maybe she'd fuck with the shocks while it was parked somewhere overnight, key the paint job, stick a radish in the tailpipe, something. Promising herself that helped calm her down from outright seething to just a more normal state of pissed and annoyed.
And then THAT kid popped his head around the corner. "Miss Fusae"-ing and all. God, if the grill still hadn't been cooling down from the searing heat it'd been kept on all day, she figured she would have just collapsed right then and there to smack her head on it. Of all the goddamn days-
Talk? Talk?
"Oh come ON, kid. You have the. Best. Godfuckingdamn. Timing. ...You know that right?"
She winced slightly at the own loud tone to her words, even the slightest bit of volume grinding unpleasantly at her now-throbbing headache. She just wanted to go home, pop a beer, soak in the bath, and forget the last ten minutes. Maybe read the letter, if it really was from Otoyo. But she had a feeling that freaking Seta wasn't going to let that happen anytime soon.
Boy was crazy, you know.
"Look, I'm thankful you saved me from that kidnapper or whatever, but, an' forgive me this, I think you have a bit of a screw loose, 'kay? You and your friends."
Because really? The way that time had gone down, where she had trouble keeping the days straight, could have been caused by stress and whatever she had been drugged with to keep her sedate. Had to have been a drug to make her drop just like that, in the middle of a fight with that hallucination; or maybe it have been the bottle to the head that she'd gotten from that... that thing? She didn't know, and she was all too happy to forget it, maybe with a side trip to a shrink.
---
He rolled his eyes discreetly. He was the crazy one?
"You're not the first to say so," he shrugged, looking down at his shoes briefly, "but that's not the point. And I can come back another time, but I really do need to talk to you..."
Souji trailed off, something catching his attention. Something about the air over Miss Fusae's head was swirling slightly. He'd only seen that happen a few times before, when the persona was especially agitated or intent on communicating with it's host. Souji's brow furrowed -- if she really was convinced that the happenings had all been a drug addled hallucination, then perhaps she had started rejecting her persona all over again. Souji had never heard of that happening, but considering how strong the distortion was, something was clearly up.
"Headache?" Souji asked as innocently as he could.
---
Oh, she bet they did. What highschooler charged to the rescue with swords? To a kidnapper's hideout that no one else had apparently known about? ...and then pop into the electronics department at Junes? It made no sense. In fact, it almost made Seta and his friends more suspicious than anything else.
Alright, that just made her head hurt more. No, not just hurt, it was a special kind of hurt. It was like having your skull slowly split open with a chisel. If Seta hadn't been standing right there, she wouldn't be keeping as straight a face as she was now.
"...You have no idea," she grumbled, rubbing at her temples. It did nothing to help; in fact, if Souji looked a little closer and squinted the right way, the swirling almost seemed to take on a more serpentine shape, with the trademark gaping jaws. "Look, kid, what's up that you need to bug me about, anyways?"
Might as well get all the pain over with now.
---
Souji continued to eye the eel circling above Fusae's head with the sort of subtle disapproval that only someone who had seen more Shadows and Personae than he ever really wished to. And not only that, but had grown to understand them -- if only on a surface level. She was suffocating it.
"You know what I'm here for -- it's the same thing I was here for last time," he explained simply, gesturing casually for emphasis, "How about we go for a walk? You're done closing up, right?"
His eyes flashed back up to the eel as it head butted it's host roughly. Fusae showed no physical reaction apart from a brief grimace. Souji sighed.
"I would leave the aspirin behind. It's not going to help."
---
Normally, people would look you in the eyes when they talked to you. Not eyeball the space above your head, unless there was something way more interesting up there-- She glanced up, frowning a little, but there was nothing there. Seta was just creepy, then.
Fine, she could deal with that.
She was closing up, there was no excuse to wriggle out of that. And she should probably duck out front and grab that letter (and spatula) she had thrown at Mochisuke...
She gave a little exasperated sigh, untying her apron and roughly folding it - only to toss it carelessly on a chair behind her - before flipping the lights and exiting the stand. She walked past him without even looking at him, unwrapping the letter from the spatula to shove in her back jeans pocket and then underhand-tossing the spatula onto the counter, where it skidded, and reaching back to casually tug down the grate.
"Fine, I can't sleep this early, anyways," she gave in, slipping on the grate's combination lock and giving the dials a spin, before walking a bit further down the quiet street, hands shoved in her pockets. Well, she wouldn't be sleeping anyways, with the problems her head was giving her, and she could use a nice walk to cool off, or convince Seta to stop hounding her. Maybe dip her feet in the river for a bit; a taste of fresh, non-meat-laced air would do her good.
"I've probably taken enough to put down a horse, I kinda noticed. Watch, it's probably going to be brain tumor - just to fuck with me." She paused, and shot the highschooler a look over her shoulder. "You coming or not, kid?"
---
He watched her finish up her work silently, running his tongue over his teeth with just a hint of trepidation. He wasn't easily intimidated, you couldn't be with the cards he'd been dealt, but this woman set him off somehow. She'd accepted her Shadow, and yet she had taken so many steps back once leaving the TV -- Souji didn't know how to handle someone like that. Other than persistance, but the idea of getting smacked or slapped didn't really appeal to him.
Oh well.
"Coming," he said quickly, jogging to catch up with her. The two walked in silence for a time while Souji glanced up at the giant eel, who was in much sharper focus now, glide soundlessly above them. The sudden clarity of the image must've meant the pain was getting worse. How had she not understood that this wasn't an ordinary headache? He wasn't aware that people could be so stubborn, but you saw something new every day when looking at the people of Inaba.
Souji kicked at a stone, breaking the silence, "Why don't you believe us, Miss Fusae? What reason would we have to lie?"
---
She was used to bad luck following her-- some days it was just like a little rain cloud over her head, determined to rain on her parade. Heck, it'd suddenly gotten a lot worse as soon as Seta had stepped into pace beside her; even the relative quiet didn't help. Every tiny frog croak or cricket chirp drove her crazy.
"Why-- kid. KID. I--" She paused, thinking her words over as carefully as she could manage at the moment. Wouldn't do to lose her temper just because of a migraine. "Look, I was taken, completely out of it, kept for who the hell knows how many days-" Oh, she was getting on a roll now.
"-Let's not forget I was smashed over the head with a bottle, and then I swear I was drugged the fuck up and probably had some weird epiphany-dream while tripping..! AND THEN all out of fucking nowhere, you charge on in with a goddamn crack team made up of highschoolers, destroy some fucking monster, things go crazy, and I'm suddenly in Junes."
...How could she NOT deny what had happened?
"Have I missed anything, Seta? Like, any fairies or whatever tha' teleported me home on pixie dust, or do you pretty much agree that something like that just doesn't go down? Because it's less thinking you're lying and more thinking I need serious mental help."
---
Souji waited patiently through her tirade. Let her get out what she needed to get out, he told himself. Him piping up to give his opinion would only set them back fifty steps -- and things were already going a little too insufferably slow with her as it was.
"If you were high or it was a dream or whatever you want to call it, how could me and my friends possibly know so many details?" he asked thoughtfully, glancing at her and the eel (who seemed to be getting angered by Fusae's vocalizing of her doubts), "I told you what happened. You were thrown throw a TV and me and my friends went in after you. We brought you back through the TV in Junes. If you'd just let me show you...," he stopped himself, realizing how frustrated he was getting. That wouldn't accomplish anything.
"All I need is a TV," he explained, "I can prove it to you then."
---
He seemed to sure of himself, so completely certain that, yes, that sort of thing happened every day why weren't you aware of it before, that for a moment Fusae was certain that they'd reached a sort of loop where even the craziest things started to make sense. It even came with that sort of quiet request that meant they knew what was going on, obviously, so why wouldn't you just catch up with the program?
Oh, what the hell. Entertain him, let him try to mess around with all the TVs he wanted, and when he failed she couldn't say she hadn't given him a chance. Maybe then he'd stop bugging her.
"Be my guest, kid," she smirked, more than a bit falsely. "I'd love to be enlightened. Hell, I even have a twenty-seven inch screen at my place that you're more than welcome to poke around in. Unless you're picky about it not being HD."
At that, another twinge went through her brain, as if it were genuinely trying to punish her for being an ass.
---
Souji snorted, suppressing a laugh as best he could. You didn't often see a gigantic eel whip a disgruntled meat vendor for being a prick. Still, Souji couldn't help but feel a little flattered. If he could thank the persona, he would have.
Quickly regaining his composure, Souji spoke, though his relief still shown on his face, "I don't think it should be a problem. We're not really concerned on what's playing on it, just what's in it." Cryptic, perhaps, but it was almost impossible not to be where the TV world was concerned. It truly was one of the things you had to see to believe.
Or see twice, if you happened to be a stubborn out of towner with an eel threatening to eat your head off.
---
"I--" but she had to stop herself right there. She even managed to tone down her "Boy you're crazy" look. She almost didn't expect him to just run with it so easily; she had been a bit of a jackass about it, and that had annoyed him plenty so far.
Fusae paused, quirking an eyebrow in her silence. It wasn't too late, she'd get plenty of sleep in tonight, either way.
"...Alright, I'm curious now. Lead on, kid."
This was going to be a laugh and a half. Hell, she had to practically choke down a snerk when they reached the front doors of Junes. And she knew the kid could tell she was only following out of the sheer hope of a reason to crack up today - not like she didn't need one.
Because right now, they were standing outside a rather large TV (bigger than anything she could ever hope to afford, but she wasn't much of a TV-watcher to begin with), and Souji wasn't even breaking his straight face.
"...This is gonna be rich," Fusae muttered, arms crossed as she stared at the screen next to Souji.
---
Souji shoved his hands in his pockets as they maneuvered through the housewares department, ignoring the woman's occasional sardonic giggles admirably. She wouldn't be laughing in about five minutes, Souji could feel some of his retribution then. He glanced up at the eel, who seemed to be watching him as well. They'd both be feeling some retribution, he mentally corrected, smiling at the eel politely.
Finally -- the electronics department. The Mayonaka TV. Deserted as it ever was, despite the fact that it was getting more in depth use than any other TV in Inaba. Souji leaned against the familiar television, looking up at Fusae without bothering to mask the intensity of his stare.
"Are you paying attention?" Souji asked, sounding almost relaxed if you ignored the determination etched into his young face, making him suddenly look much older than he was.
---
If there was one thing this kid had down, it was dramatics. Not many kids she knew could act like that -- at this rate, maybe he'd be better off on a TV show where they pulled pranks. She was almost ready for a camera crew to pop out, or for this to come to a screeching halt in utter failure.
She made a little 'go-on-ahead' gesture with her hand, cocking a hip slightly to the side as she watched the kid. He was lucky no one was watching them, or this would just end up humiliating. She'd try not to cackle too much, anyways-- too loud and her head would split.
....Needless to say it, but she didn't get to laugh at all.
---
The plasma surface of the wide screen television rippled as Souji placed his hand against it. There was no resistance against him -- almost as if the screen itself was not physically present. Perhaps after countless times jumping through this screen, the shock of his body disappearing through a solid piece of electrical equipment had worn off.
But to anyone else watching, it was hardly that easy to accept. Souji's hand had simply been there, and now it was not.
"So," Souji asked, keeping his enjoyment over her slack jawed expression well hidden, "Still convinced that it was a dream?"
---
She'd... taken about a dozen aspirin today, right? Had to have done so, by now. Headache still wasn't gone, a dozen aspirin down her throat. Could you get hallucinations from aspirin? Nah. Maybe his crazy was just rubbing off on her, now. That almost made sense.
The smirk had left; instead, Fusae had her eyes narrowed at Souji's missing hand, having just caught herself from letting out a surprisedly yelled string of curses.
"...you are fucking shitting me." She couldn't break her eyes from the way his hand was plunged in the... the obviously-not-so-solid screen. "...Did I get hit on th' head again, on my way over here, by any chance?"
If she hadn't, then maybe the kid wasn't that crazy. Well, maybe not crazier than her.
---
Souji removed his hand again, rubbing it lightly out of discomfort. The atmosphere was different on the other side -- more condensed and heavy. It always felt a little strange to exist in the two places simultaneously.
"You did," Souji explained cryptically, "but not by anything tangible."
The ashen boy whipped out his cellphone casually, punching out a familiar number before pausing a beat to let it ring. "Yosuke-kun? Is Teddie there? Yeah, I'll hold on." There were a few loud yells from the reciever, forcing Souji to hold it a little away from his ear while he waited. The loud cry of 'YES, SENSEI' from the other line prompted Souji to return the phone to his ear.
"Teddie, I'm taking someone into the TV. Can you get down to Junes? We'll need someone to let us out once we're through." There were a few more loud shrieks from the other end, though Souji's expression barely changed, "Thanks, Ted, I'll see you."
"C'mon," Souji smiled, pocketing his phone, "let's get rid of that headache."
---
Kid was making less sense than one of the damn fortune cookies she got at Aiya's, and that really was something.
She tried not to listen too hard to Seta's phone call, instead focusing running her fingers along the TV, almost gently as if it might bite, avoiding touching the actual screen. And then he said "In the TV", and she snapped to attention.
"Wait, what- you want me to go in there? Seta, that's a fucking Twilight zone. You don't solve headaches by jumping into a deathtrap screen...thing."
Then she paused, because what the hell, how much worse could it get? If she died, then at least the headache would go with her; besides, Seta was weird, but not to the point where he'd just willingly off himself.
At least, she told herself that as she shoved her hands in her pockets and grumbled out, "Fine. We'll do this your way."
---
He tugged on his sleeves, waiting for her frenzied tantrum to come to a close. He wasn't about to judge her -- hell, it was mild to the way Chie and Yosuke had first reacted to Souji disappearing into the TV. He could afford to be patient.
"Alright," he nodded, reaching out to hold onto Umezono's shoulder, bracing her for the inevitable jump, "Try to brace yourself as you land. It's a bit of a fall."
---
"Yeah, yeah, fine," she grumped, too busy staring at the screen like it was ready to rear up and bite her to bother registering much else.
A bit of a fall. Right. Jump in a TV and fall. If she hadn't already thrown basic physics and sense out the door once Seta'd waved his hand around the TV, she probably would have spazzed and ran the moment he touched her. Instead, she simply braced herself, because it was just a TV. The bottom of the screen hit, what, a foot and a half off the ground? No big deal.
It was a foot and a half that lasted for infinity.
((Continued here: midnighttv.proboards.com/index.cgi?board=studio&action=display&thread=42&page=1 ))