[ initially, he's jarred by the call. partially, due to the time it's placed. the other, simply because of his own habits in being incapable of slumber in the most inopportune moments. now, wasn't exactly one, per say. especially not as he's half-lulled into sleep. his back propped up against something. his sleeping position stiff and his arms crossed over his chest. that is, before the ringer distracted his concentrative measuring of both his breaths and bearing. measures that were meant to traverse in the opposing direction of the hyper-awareness involved in over analyzing the furtive qualities of the dark and all it inevitably had to offer. so when he answers, his voice is a bit gruffer than usual. carries a bit more of tenor. ] So it's you...
[ well, she is the one who calls him that. "senpai," that is. moreover, it isn't like he associated with a lot of females, hence. ]
Is that all you called to say? [ he huffs into the line. ] You're way too active for this hour, you know that?
[ a pause, before he steels himself with the next inquiry. ] Can't sleep?
[ More precisely, she doesn't sleep. The hours she could be spending out like a light are wasted lazing around in the dark with nothing but the faint glow of her phone to keep her company. It isn't any different from her time as a ghost, but at least her old school let the moonlight in. ]
Did I wake you up? I can call another time.
[ She isn't so rude as to completely prevent him from getting some rest, especially if it's for her own selfish whims. ]
[ the mere fact she was capable of behaving consistently at all hours of the day, despite the bleariness of his own vision and the dwindling amount of sleep others (including himself) appear to assimilate themselves into here... was nothing short of jaw-dropping. impressive in its own right, if he were the type to apply those types of words. but, since... he's wholly incapable of that, unless it's barely stated above a whisper, or it's divulged in absolute and sworn secrecy— it's left concealed. unspoken and unuttered. unlike the quiet: ] It's fine.
[ he tacts on. ] Besides, I'm already up so it's a bit too late for that. [ there's a soft grunt as he seems to stretch out. it's audible even through the line, if just barely. the movement of his feet against the floor. he seems content with the brief silence that hits the line,
and when it seems like he's just about to leave it at, he finally releases a: ] ... are you all right?
I'm fine. [ Her tone is light to keep up appearances. She isn't used to others caring for a frivolous personality like hers. ] It gets a little lonely at night, so I could use the company.
[ But since he asked, the least she could do is give him a hint. ]
Before you say anything, let's not talk about the school, okay? I'd appreciate that.
while a part of it simply stems from the fraction of his personality that didn't necessarily accept or concede to the facts as face value. he, also, just doesn't think that anyone, even as flippant as they appear on the surface, would opt on sparking conversation under terms like these.
not that at this hour, nor with an apology prefacing it. when he speaks again, he voice is subdued somehow. ] I wouldn't want to talk about the school even you forced me to. [ ... except, he sort of just did. ] That one doesn't count... [ he's quick to correct himself. to a degree, he can relate with the idea of desiring to hear someone's voice. to allow a verbal exchange to drown out the background noise.
but, at the same time... other than the school. what else was there? ]
It doesn't, it doesn't. [ How silly. ] Well, I wouldn't wish this school on anyone, but it does have its good points. For example, it's always springtime, so the courtyard always looks pretty, and... ah.
Sorry, I ended up talking about it.
[ Thinking of another topic is proving to be difficult. ]
[ while he doesn't quite detect the diversity between the previous atmosphere and the one presently sparked by her modest display of mirth, he's marginally a bit more at ease. his expression relaxing, whether she could visibly see it through the line or not being inconsequential to the motion. ] ...
[ this time, he allows a small semblance of humor to escape him. if just brief and transitory. barely even longer than a single syllable. ] You're pretty bad at this, huh? [ plus, while he won't express it, it was sort of a breath of fresh air to see he isn't the only one who falls victim to being socially inelegant. at least on occasion. this wasn't actually on the same breath or scale, but regardless, there was vague, nearly elusive kinship from that. ]
I don't think it could have been helped. Besides— [ he defaults back to his usual tone. ] You're probably the only I could trust to say something good about this dump. [ because, for yamato... whether it was the mansion or home, everything seemed bleak.
he always reckless and in a rush. so sometimes seeing another perspective was... refreshing? if that could be the word. ]
That's not true, haha. But they do say one man's trash is another man's treasure. I think it takes someone pretty twisted to think this place was any good. Ah... Maybe I'm being too harsh on myself. Does eccentric sound good?
Well, whatever it is, I don't think it's bad to have someone like you around.
It might actually be good. [ he says it offhandedly. a remark that escapes his lips before he's had enough time to properly ruminate over the implications. or in how it could have generally been meditated over. actually, it's so beyond him that he's revealed this portion of his thoughts... that he doesn't exactly seem to have noticed, either. ]
I'm not shy. [ it said firmly, despite his own inner reservations.
or that fact that he feels they strayed further from the point than they needed to. though, now that he reflects over this once more... what was the point? oh well. ] .... also, don't laugh. I'm being serious, for the record.
That would be a pretty petty thing to curse someone over, don't you think?
[ moreover, to begin with, he isn't sure what that's supposed to mean, or what implications it was meant to carry. he isn't taking it literally or particularly seriously, no. instead, he's sort of progressing with it in stride. though, at the same time, he sort of can't help to have the natural inclination to know what she might potentially think of him. not that it lasts, however. as fleeting and transitory as the concept flickered to mind, it slips away just as readily. ]
Besides, I think the topic of "cursing" shouldn't be a conversation for this time of night.
[ he isn't scared, but it doesn't mean it isn't a mismatched subject. ]
Haha, yeah. [ But she continues, ] Ghosts are petty, though. If you became a ghost, I think you'd haunt me for stripping in front of the lockers again. Ah, what a troublesome ghost~ I'd have you exorcised right away.
there's a deep sigh. ] Just what sort of eyes are you looking at me with? There's no way I'd do something like that! Besides, like I said.... you shouldn't talk about it. I mean, what if someone heard you. Have more common sense!
[ .... coming from yamato... this is prob. an insult. ]
... [ She chuckles, remembering what she said earlier about talk of the school. ] Sorry. All this talk about ghosts and curses—it's just a habit. I was the president of our school's Paranormal Investigations Club back home, you see.
way 2 be hurtful. in one thread he's homeless, in the next, he's brainless. okay, both aren't untrue, but it's about tact and delicacy!? his poor notome kokoro. or so one could be proclaim, but the only concept he appears keen on exuding is the fact that he's wildly offended!? ] What's that supposed to mean!? To begin with, I—
[ was displaying concern, so you should be grateful??? is the line of thought he was initially going to project, only he discovers... he can't. hence, he freezes up. blanking out. permitting the line to inevitably be enraptured by silence. ... only, it breaks at her next conversation topic. a welcomed prospect. ] Club President, really?
... what made you so interested in that sort of stuff? No matter how you look at it, it probably isn't a common hobby.
So you're not scared, but you like to hear about them?
[ ... ] As I thought you're just a weirdo, aren't you? [ but, for some reason, when he says these words, he sounds like he's in fairly good spirits. or at least, that he's finding an angle or an approach to appearing so. if just temporarily. by his next inflection, it passes. ] But, I guess everyone has something like that.
[ ... he shakes his head. ] Do you have any stories to tell or?
[ Well then! She'll put on her best narrator voice and begin. ]
This is just a rumor.
[ That's how every story starts, after all. ]
But they say our school was built on cursed ground. To appease the gods, they had to sacrifice a life—a young girl—to serve as the school's pillar and prevent it from succumbing to the curse that destroyed the land ages ago. Rumor has it that her body lies in the old school building, but her soul is doomed to wander the school halls for the rest of eternity. Sometimes, you'll hear her shout—
[ Help!
Suddenly, Yamato's vision is pitch black. The air, quiet. No phone, no school. No Yuuko. The next thing he sees is the pitiful figure of an exhausted schoolgirl leaning against a wall. She gasps, and her wails cut through the silence, letting her agony and desperation be known to all who would listen.
Somebody! Help me!
Flashes of the hazy image only appear long enough for him to pick out her long black hair, old-fashioned school uniform and broken leg, but her face is difficult to discern in the darkness. All he can be certain of are her tear-stained cheeks and resonating cries.
It's pitch black again. Before the nightmare ends, the shaky words she breathes out are frighteningly close to his ear.
[ at the rumour bit, there's already a discernable level of disbelief reverberating in his hushed "isn't it always." per usual, it's said in a gruff fashion. his expression flattening over the other end. to be perfectly honest, he doesn't expect much of anything. of the tale, of the specifics involved, or even in the narration, but the moment the story begins... there's something that automatically grips him about it. perhaps, yuuko was just convincing. maybe it's the atmosphere the school grounds had already solidly established... or maybe— ]
[ before, he could rationalize the "core" source of his sudden discomfiture, he's suddenly greeted by the dusk that creeps over his vision. the sheer darkness and obscurity of it is enough to make him question the actuality (or general realism) of the situation. he half wonders if he's unforgivingly managed to slip straight into slumber. only, the voices assure him otherwise.
while he'd very much liked to be inclined in believing this was merely an elaborate hoax instigated by his imaginative prowess, he discovers his cold sweat and his twitching finger tips to suggest quite the opposite. moreover, that voice.
[ he grits his teeth. he's always disliked the sentiment that he couldn't provide other's the protection they were entitled to. the defense he's always desired to deliver. so when he hears that final phrase, he speaks louder than he intends. it's blurted out unintentionally, his whole body recoiling violently as he does. ] Wait, I'll—
[ then it's over. it's over yet his breathing is shallow as his body reclines against the nearest wall weakly.
... and it's here his phone falls out from his grip with a clatter. ]
[ If he saw anything, she has no clue. But that shout and the sound of his phone dropping to the floor prompts her worry. He can't be seeing and hearing things, right? She's human here... ]
[ as much as he'd like to abstain from unabashed admittance, it's clear his recovery time wasn't nearly as quick ad he'd like. instead, he spends time attempting to get his head in order. it's clear it was just some sort of vision. a mirage or illusion quite possibly created from fatigue. or at least, something akin to that. he presses a palm against his own forehead before unceremoniously dragging it across his face. it ceases over his mouth, and he slowly cracks his fingers open, as if experimentally attempting to decipher reality from fiction and vice versa.
the thing that manages to actually spark his attention back to the current situation, however, if the muddled sound of yuuko's voice through his phone. it's landed some distance from him, but even then. it was night, and his hearing acute. he eventually, leans down, picking it off the floor. he hesitates for a second or two, before— ] I... I'm fine.
[ he breathes in. it's more shallow than he realized. still— ] What about you? Did you see anything? Or did you...? [ did she somehow spark this? he can't say. while normally he's full of accusations, the words don't actually leave his mouth. ]
He saw, he saw, he saw. Yuuko's breathing is shallow, too. The heart she now has beats faster than it ever has. She had her suspicions in the elevator, but for him to see a vision of her own story... Not once has that ever happened in Inugami.
But it has in Seikyou, and there was only one explanation for that. ]
What are you talking about, senpai? [ She hopes her voice doesn't shake the way his does. ] What did you see?
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
3am call on july 30th
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[ well, she is the one who calls him that. "senpai," that is. moreover, it isn't like he associated with a lot of females, hence. ]
Is that all you called to say? [ he huffs into the line. ] You're way too active for this hour, you know that?
[ a pause, before he steels himself with the next inquiry. ] Can't sleep?
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[ More precisely, she doesn't sleep. The hours she could be spending out like a light are wasted lazing around in the dark with nothing but the faint glow of her phone to keep her company. It isn't any different from her time as a ghost, but at least her old school let the moonlight in. ]
Did I wake you up? I can call another time.
[ She isn't so rude as to completely prevent him from getting some rest, especially if it's for her own selfish whims. ]
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[ he tacts on. ] Besides, I'm already up so it's a bit too late for that. [ there's a soft grunt as he seems to stretch out. it's audible even through the line, if just barely. the movement of his feet against the floor. he seems content with the brief silence that hits the line,
and when it seems like he's just about to leave it at, he finally releases a: ] ... are you all right?
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[ But since he asked, the least she could do is give him a hint. ]
Before you say anything, let's not talk about the school, okay? I'd appreciate that.
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while a part of it simply stems from the fraction of his personality that didn't necessarily accept or concede to the facts as face value. he, also, just doesn't think that anyone, even as flippant as they appear on the surface, would opt on sparking conversation under terms like these.
not that at this hour, nor with an apology prefacing it. when he speaks again, he voice is subdued somehow. ] I wouldn't want to talk about the school even you forced me to. [ ... except, he sort of just did. ] That one doesn't count... [ he's quick to correct himself. to a degree, he can relate with the idea of desiring to hear someone's voice. to allow a verbal exchange to drown out the background noise.
but, at the same time... other than the school. what else was there? ]
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It doesn't, it doesn't. [ How silly. ] Well, I wouldn't wish this school on anyone, but it does have its good points. For example, it's always springtime, so the courtyard always looks pretty, and... ah.
Sorry, I ended up talking about it.
[ Thinking of another topic is proving to be difficult. ]
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[ this time, he allows a small semblance of humor to escape him. if just brief and transitory. barely even longer than a single syllable. ] You're pretty bad at this, huh? [ plus, while he won't express it, it was sort of a breath of fresh air to see he isn't the only one who falls victim to being socially inelegant. at least on occasion. this wasn't actually on the same breath or scale, but regardless, there was vague, nearly elusive kinship from that. ]
I don't think it could have been helped. Besides— [ he defaults back to his usual tone. ] You're probably the only I could trust to say something good about this dump. [ because, for yamato... whether it was the mansion or home, everything seemed bleak.
he always reckless and in a rush. so sometimes seeing another perspective was... refreshing? if that could be the word. ]
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[ It's nicer than telling him she was dead. ]
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It might actually be good. [ he says it offhandedly. a remark that escapes his lips before he's had enough time to properly ruminate over the implications. or in how it could have generally been meditated over. actually, it's so beyond him that he's revealed this portion of his thoughts... that he doesn't exactly seem to have noticed, either. ]
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He can practically hear the smile in her voice. ]
So what you're saying is you like me.
1/2
...
... ]
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[ but, now he's reflecting back on his words, and??? ] I-idiot.
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or that fact that he feels they strayed further from the point than they needed to. though, now that he reflects over this once more... what was the point? oh well. ] .... also, don't laugh. I'm being serious, for the record.
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Then I'm glad you're serious about your opinion of me. If you weren't, I would have cursed you.
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[ moreover, to begin with, he isn't sure what that's supposed to mean, or what implications it was meant to carry. he isn't taking it literally or particularly seriously, no. instead, he's sort of progressing with it in stride. though, at the same time, he sort of can't help to have the natural inclination to know what she might potentially think of him. not that it lasts, however. as fleeting and transitory as the concept flickered to mind, it slips away just as readily. ]
Besides, I think the topic of "cursing" shouldn't be a conversation for this time of night.
[ he isn't scared, but it doesn't mean it isn't a mismatched subject. ]
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there's a deep sigh. ] Just what sort of eyes are you looking at me with? There's no way I'd do something like that! Besides, like I said.... you shouldn't talk about it. I mean, what if someone heard you. Have more common sense!
[ .... coming from yamato... this is prob. an insult. ]
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... [ She chuckles, remembering what she said earlier about talk of the school. ] Sorry. All this talk about ghosts and curses—it's just a habit. I was the president of our school's Paranormal Investigations Club back home, you see.
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way 2 be hurtful. in one thread he's homeless, in the next, he's brainless. okay, both aren't untrue, but it's about tact and delicacy!? his poor notome kokoro. or so one could be proclaim, but the only concept he appears keen on exuding is the fact that he's wildly offended!? ] What's that supposed to mean!? To begin with, I—
[ was displaying concern, so you should be grateful??? is the line of thought he was initially going to project, only he discovers... he can't. hence, he freezes up. blanking out. permitting the line to inevitably be enraptured by silence. ... only, it breaks at her next conversation topic. a welcomed prospect. ] Club President, really?
... what made you so interested in that sort of stuff? No matter how you look at it, it probably isn't a common hobby.
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[ Something, because she can't even remember the name of that certain someone anymore. ]
That was the first time I'd ever taken an interest in anything...
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[ ... ] As I thought you're just a weirdo, aren't you? [ but, for some reason, when he says these words, he sounds like he's in fairly good spirits. or at least, that he's finding an angle or an approach to appearing so. if just temporarily. by his next inflection, it passes. ] But, I guess everyone has something like that.
[ ... he shakes his head. ] Do you have any stories to tell or?
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Oh? You want to listen to my ghost stories in the dead of the night? I thought you didn't want those.
no subject
[ aka, time 2 prove him wrong. ]
It's not like I'm a kid.
he asked
This is just a rumor.
[ That's how every story starts, after all. ]
But they say our school was built on cursed ground. To appease the gods, they had to sacrifice a life—a young girl—to serve as the school's pillar and prevent it from succumbing to the curse that destroyed the land ages ago. Rumor has it that her body lies in the old school building, but her soul is doomed to wander the school halls for the rest of eternity. Sometimes, you'll hear her shout—
[ Help!
Suddenly, Yamato's vision is pitch black. The air, quiet. No phone, no school. No Yuuko. The next thing he sees is the pitiful figure of an exhausted schoolgirl leaning against a wall. She gasps, and her wails cut through the silence, letting her agony and desperation be known to all who would listen.
Somebody! Help me!
Flashes of the hazy image only appear long enough for him to pick out her long black hair, old-fashioned school uniform and broken leg, but her face is difficult to discern in the darkness. All he can be certain of are her tear-stained cheeks and resonating cries.
It's pitch black again. Before the nightmare ends, the shaky words she breathes out are frighteningly close to his ear.
I'm so scared... Somebody.... ]
omg i'm so sorry i lost this!?! 1/??
no subject
while he'd very much liked to be inclined in believing this was merely an elaborate hoax instigated by his imaginative prowess, he discovers his cold sweat and his twitching finger tips to suggest quite the opposite. moreover, that voice.
the proximity of it. the quality behind it. ] !!
DONE!
[ then it's over. it's over yet his breathing is shallow as his body reclines against the nearest wall weakly.
... and it's here his phone falls out from his grip with a clatter. ]
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[ If he saw anything, she has no clue. But that shout and the sound of his phone dropping to the floor prompts her worry. He can't be seeing and hearing things, right? She's human here... ]
Are you alright, Yamato-senpai? Yamato-senpai!
no subject
the thing that manages to actually spark his attention back to the current situation, however, if the muddled sound of yuuko's voice through his phone. it's landed some distance from him, but even then. it was night, and his hearing acute. he eventually, leans down, picking it off the floor. he hesitates for a second or two, before— ] I... I'm fine.
[ he breathes in. it's more shallow than he realized. still— ] What about you? Did you see anything? Or did you...? [ did she somehow spark this? he can't say. while normally he's full of accusations, the words don't actually leave his mouth. ]
no subject
He saw, he saw, he saw. Yuuko's breathing is shallow, too. The heart she now has beats faster than it ever has. She had her suspicions in the elevator, but for him to see a vision of her own story... Not once has that ever happened in Inugami.
But it has in Seikyou, and there was only one explanation for that. ]
What are you talking about, senpai? [ She hopes her voice doesn't shake the way his does. ] What did you see?