[Ugh, the fucking flowers. The idea of getting anywhere near them while in the presence of someone else seems like the worst time, actually, but...mmm.]
Well, shit.
[...]
[Fuck, alright.]
Nothin' in this city's tried to kill us before. So it could be one of those stupid bonding things, like in the bank or the mall. Maybe you need to go back and drink with someone to make it stop? Or... it wants you to talk about the flower shit?
(He says and it's hard to really tell if he's speaking for himself or teasing Shinji because he gives him a playful smile,)
Right?
(And he lets out a loud and bright laugh,)
I've been told I'm bad at talking. (He's cryptic, he's vague, he talks in riddles and poems, he's indirect, he makes a point of being difficult to understand... he's been told it all before.) Let's hope it isn't.
("Let's" he says, agreeing to go along with Shinji. He recognizes when he's being helped when he needs it. He can try to be a little easier to deal with.)
... Be careful.
(The last thing he wants is for Shinji to also end up messed up.)
cw reference to depression/death wish/attempted murder
[Literally, though? Tfw you would've let a preteen murder you because you saw no better solution to your crippling self-loathing and guilt than to simply die. A trauma counselor of some kind in SEES would've probably solved a lot of problems tbh.
The laugh feels embarrassing, somehow, like the prospect isn't as uncomfortable for the other man, despite what he says. He rolls a shoulder in a motion that should be casual but comes off looking more awkward than anything.]
Yeah. That makes two of us.
[But Tsuru is agreeing to head back to the garden, and so, bracing himself for whatever nonsense he might have to deal with from the plants or otherwise, starts leading the way. He's not even really sure what he's doing, honestly, so much as he got invested in this whole situation and now he feels the need to see it through. Hopefully if they figure out how to fix it, they can just never speak of this again? That'd be nice.
Once they arrive, he starts looking around the table for anything strange or out of place, but indeed, all he sees are the tea pots, and the empty cups.]
You remember which one you drank from?
[Now that he's standing close, the compulsion is starting to nag at the back of his own thoughts, to go ahead and just trial and error this thing already. But there's no good being reckless and getting them both killed.]
(Empty tea cups where before they had been full. The tea pots are surely full, though and he feels that unnatural compulsion gnawing at his spirit. It makes him want to pour himself another cup and he finds himself reaching to grab onto Shinjiro's sleeve. He needs to ground himself but likewise, he needs to keep Shinjiro from also giving into the impulse. His fingers are stiff and he can't hold on very tight but the way he can feel them creak is enough to snap him back to attention for now, )
It was bitter and strong.
(And he looks over. He recognizes the cup he'd drunk from by its design and in it, traces of a black tea remain. His mouth goes dry and he tightens his grip on Shinjiro and it hurts to move his hand like this and he grits his teeth,)
[Tsuru grabs his sleeve, and it is perhaps testament to Shinjiro's concern about the situation that he doesn't immediately pull away. It's such a wounded, vulnerable action that it stirs the protective instincts Shinjiro's constantly trying to trample under his heel and pretend don't exist. Subtly enough that it could've been the result of his natural motion, the back of his hand bumps against Tsuru's shoulder in something neighboring reassurance--unacknowledged in either words or expression.
He opens the lid off each pot, then, though he's careful to step away once he's opened them all, and looks over the set, frowning.]
Guess it'd be too simple if there was a white tea of some kind. So -- red, yellow, blue, green orange ... what goes with black?
[He really, genuinely, tries to think about this for a minute, before he sighs, scrubbing at his face.]
Really ain't any good at this kinda shit. Yamagishi or Kirijou could've probably figured it out...dammit, I've got nothin'.
[He's about to start anxiously pacing, better let go if you don't wanna accidentally get dragged, Tsuru...]
White. (Which is the exact color that Shinjiro had guessed. But if he thinks about that person he has to smile a little to himself and add,) ... Red.
(But the moment he says it, there's this feeling gnawing at the back of his mind, urging him to try the red one, then. He takes this as proof that it isn't the one he should be drinking.
Luckily, he doesn't have to linger for much longer because Shinjiro begins to lead the way and he lets himself be dragged for a bit. He doesn't mind. Despite his whimsical and almost uncontrollable nature, he's actually quite used to going along with others. This time, he can choose to go of his own volition instead of being dragged around against his will.
Here, we have Shinjiro thinking so hard, trying to find a way to help and Tsurumaru can't help but be fascinated by it. How very human, he thinks, to see someone in need and want to help even if things might be hopeless. It's one of the better traits humans have and though he seems old enough to be a man.... maybe he's still good.
Maybe it's okay to admit--)
This type of injury... it's like my true form is damaged. (He doesn't want to get his hopes up. He can't expect anything.) Around here, there may be...
(But if he says it, it makes his hopes true.)
... A sword.
(So where is it? There aren't many places to hide a sword in this garden unless it's further out. There's clearly nothing under the table but not to far away... there is a shelf.)
[He's tempted to try it himself, black and then red, to see if they cancel each other out, but Amada being in this place makes everything more complicated. The notion of just leaving the kid alone again without warning if something happens to him twists at his stomach.
(And, reluctantly, he's willing to admit to himself that it'd be kind of horrible to watch someone die from trying to help you, regardless of how little Shinjiro cares about his own well-being)
So he's pacing, pondering if there's some trick to this, like if you're supposed to mix the teas or if you should pour them somewhere or what, when Tsurumaru speaks up again. Shinjiro slows at first, then stops as the words sink in. "I can only feel this body", he'd said. His true form is a sword. That's...well, that's a new one in this place, he supposes. But truly, why not? It's not like there aren't plenty of stories about tsukumogami back in Japan. He's seen much weirder at this point than a possessed sword having a human form.]
I definitely don't know how to reforge a sword or anything, for the record. But it's a big city. Someone can probably do it. [...] Don't have to say it's for you.
[Since he gets the feeling this guy would prefer people to assume he's human, based on how this situation has gone down.
...But all that's immaterial if he doesn't find the sword, so it's time to get looking. There doesn't seem to be anything buried within the nearby plants, but ... that sure is a shelf, over there. Is it large enough to fit a sword in? Maybe. Time to start opening some drawers!]
(It isn't so much that it's a secret and more that in this particular situation, the thought that his sword may be close has his hopes raised and he hates being disappointed. He'd rather have a broken sword than no sword at all. At least then he would feel whole again after all this time.
While Shinjiro looks through the cabinet, Tsurumaru tries to help. He moves more slowly, careful not to worse his own condition but when Shinjiro opens the drawers he'll find packets of seeds. The names are faded and worn but the colors are still easy enough to see.
Red. Yellow. Green. Blue. Black.
Each color corresponds with a different tea. )
Those packs. (It's too much of a coincidence,) Do they say anything?
Shinjiro looks at the color-coded packets, turning them over in his hands, holding them up to the light, anything that might reveal some kind of clue as to how they're related to the tea.]
Tch. Squat.
[He tips out a couple of the seeds into his palm to try to examine them as well, but as far as he can tell, they just look ordinary???]
Maybe you're supposed to plant 'em? Some kinda ... bullshit circle of life metaphor or some shit. I dunno.
(He cranes his neck and tries to look. The writing is so faded that the only clue they have is the colors of the packets.)
And wait a whole season...?
(Like this? He sounds disappointed, like a child hearing he has to do something boring but really, he's frustrated. He can't stay like this for a season. He'll surely break apart by then.)
Most medicine comes from plants. (There are some traditional medicines that can come from animals but most are from plants.) Flowers, leaves, roots, bark, and even seeds...
(With bandaged fingers, he reaches out to clumsily take one and hold it up. There's no compulsion to consume it. If compulsion was an effect of something dangerous like the tea, could this be a safer option...? Or "nothing?")
I don't want to eat it. It must be safe then, right?
[Shinjiro cringes just faintly at 'wait a whole season', because no, that's not a good solution at all, it's just. The best he could think of.
But then the other man comes up with another idea, and ... well. There's only really two possibilities, here. It'll fix things, or it'll make them worse. And when even the worst-case scenario means waking back up on the train the next day...ugh. He's not entirely unaware of the hypocrisy to the thought that it's probably better than doing nothing and wasting away slowly, but things like this always seem to matter less when they're about him than others.]
...Who knows. ["Maybe that's what they want you to think", etc.] But if it's a choice between death and maybe-not-death, not like you can really go wrong tryin' it.
(Eyes linger on the seed, his expression thoughtful and curiously at peace despite the situation. It's hard to read. Is he worried or not? )
I'm Tsurumaru.
(In all of this, he'd never introduced himself and now seems like the best time. Unprompted, at a sudden time, without any further explanation. And he reaches to take some more of the seeds from Shinjiro,)
I wonder what other surprises will await me today. (He looks over at Shinjiro, a calm smile on his face,) I hope its fun.
(Suddenly, he tosses the seeds into his mouth and swallows.)
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no subject
(And he shakes his head. Truth be told, he didn't sticka around for very long because--)
The longer I was there, the more I wanted to drink.
(And he holds up one damaged hand. It was best to just get out of there before he totally wrecked himself.)
no subject
Well, shit.
[...]
[Fuck, alright.]
Nothin' in this city's tried to kill us before. So it could be one of those stupid bonding things, like in the bank or the mall. Maybe you need to go back and drink with someone to make it stop? Or... it wants you to talk about the flower shit?
[A beat, then a little groan.]
I hope it's not that one.
no subject
(He says and it's hard to really tell if he's speaking for himself or teasing Shinji because he gives him a playful smile,)
Right?
(And he lets out a loud and bright laugh,)
I've been told I'm bad at talking. (He's cryptic, he's vague, he talks in riddles and poems, he's indirect, he makes a point of being difficult to understand... he's been told it all before.) Let's hope it isn't.
("Let's" he says, agreeing to go along with Shinji. He recognizes when he's being helped when he needs it. He can try to be a little easier to deal with.)
... Be careful.
(The last thing he wants is for Shinji to also end up messed up.)
cw reference to depression/death wish/attempted murder
The laugh feels embarrassing, somehow, like the prospect isn't as uncomfortable for the other man, despite what he says. He rolls a shoulder in a motion that should be casual but comes off looking more awkward than anything.]
Yeah. That makes two of us.
[But Tsuru is agreeing to head back to the garden, and so, bracing himself for whatever nonsense he might have to deal with from the plants or otherwise, starts leading the way. He's not even really sure what he's doing, honestly, so much as he got invested in this whole situation and now he feels the need to see it through. Hopefully if they figure out how to fix it, they can just never speak of this again? That'd be nice.
Once they arrive, he starts looking around the table for anything strange or out of place, but indeed, all he sees are the tea pots, and the empty cups.]
You remember which one you drank from?
[Now that he's standing close, the compulsion is starting to nag at the back of his own thoughts, to go ahead and just trial and error this thing already. But there's no good being reckless and getting them both killed.]
no subject
It was bitter and strong.
(And he looks over. He recognizes the cup he'd drunk from by its design and in it, traces of a black tea remain. His mouth goes dry and he tightens his grip on Shinjiro and it hurts to move his hand like this and he grits his teeth,)
Black.
no subject
He opens the lid off each pot, then, though he's careful to step away once he's opened them all, and looks over the set, frowning.]
Guess it'd be too simple if there was a white tea of some kind. So -- red, yellow, blue, green orange ... what goes with black?
[He really, genuinely, tries to think about this for a minute, before he sighs, scrubbing at his face.]
Really ain't any good at this kinda shit. Yamagishi or Kirijou could've probably figured it out...dammit, I've got nothin'.
[He's about to start anxiously pacing, better let go if you don't wanna accidentally get dragged, Tsuru...]
no subject
(But the moment he says it, there's this feeling gnawing at the back of his mind, urging him to try the red one, then. He takes this as proof that it isn't the one he should be drinking.
Luckily, he doesn't have to linger for much longer because Shinjiro begins to lead the way and he lets himself be dragged for a bit. He doesn't mind. Despite his whimsical and almost uncontrollable nature, he's actually quite used to going along with others. This time, he can choose to go of his own volition instead of being dragged around against his will.
Here, we have Shinjiro thinking so hard, trying to find a way to help and Tsurumaru can't help but be fascinated by it. How very human, he thinks, to see someone in need and want to help even if things might be hopeless. It's one of the better traits humans have and though he seems old enough to be a man.... maybe he's still good.
Maybe it's okay to admit--)
This type of injury... it's like my true form is damaged. (He doesn't want to get his hopes up. He can't expect anything.) Around here, there may be...
(But if he says it, it makes his hopes true.)
... A sword.
(So where is it? There aren't many places to hide a sword in this garden unless it's further out. There's clearly nothing under the table but not to far away... there is a shelf.)
no subject
(And, reluctantly, he's willing to admit to himself that it'd be kind of horrible to watch someone die from trying to help you, regardless of how little Shinjiro cares about his own well-being)
So he's pacing, pondering if there's some trick to this, like if you're supposed to mix the teas or if you should pour them somewhere or what, when Tsurumaru speaks up again. Shinjiro slows at first, then stops as the words sink in. "I can only feel this body", he'd said. His true form is a sword. That's...well, that's a new one in this place, he supposes. But truly, why not? It's not like there aren't plenty of stories about tsukumogami back in Japan. He's seen much weirder at this point than a possessed sword having a human form.]
I definitely don't know how to reforge a sword or anything, for the record. But it's a big city. Someone can probably do it. [...] Don't have to say it's for you.
[Since he gets the feeling this guy would prefer people to assume he's human, based on how this situation has gone down.
...But all that's immaterial if he doesn't find the sword, so it's time to get looking. There doesn't seem to be anything buried within the nearby plants, but ... that sure is a shelf, over there. Is it large enough to fit a sword in? Maybe. Time to start opening some drawers!]
no subject
(It isn't so much that it's a secret and more that in this particular situation, the thought that his sword may be close has his hopes raised and he hates being disappointed. He'd rather have a broken sword than no sword at all. At least then he would feel whole again after all this time.
While Shinjiro looks through the cabinet, Tsurumaru tries to help. He moves more slowly, careful not to worse his own condition but when Shinjiro opens the drawers he'll find packets of seeds. The names are faded and worn but the colors are still easy enough to see.
Red.
Yellow.
Green.
Blue.
Black.
Each color corresponds with a different tea. )
Those packs. (It's too much of a coincidence,) Do they say anything?
no subject
Shinjiro looks at the color-coded packets, turning them over in his hands, holding them up to the light, anything that might reveal some kind of clue as to how they're related to the tea.]
Tch. Squat.
[He tips out a couple of the seeds into his palm to try to examine them as well, but as far as he can tell, they just look ordinary???]
Maybe you're supposed to plant 'em? Some kinda ... bullshit circle of life metaphor or some shit. I dunno.
no subject
(He cranes his neck and tries to look. The writing is so faded that the only clue they have is the colors of the packets.)
And wait a whole season...?
(Like this? He sounds disappointed, like a child hearing he has to do something boring but really, he's frustrated. He can't stay like this for a season. He'll surely break apart by then.)
Most medicine comes from plants. (There are some traditional medicines that can come from animals but most are from plants.) Flowers, leaves, roots, bark, and even seeds...
(With bandaged fingers, he reaches out to clumsily take one and hold it up. There's no compulsion to consume it. If compulsion was an effect of something dangerous like the tea, could this be a safer option...? Or "nothing?")
I don't want to eat it. It must be safe then, right?
no subject
But then the other man comes up with another idea, and ... well. There's only really two possibilities, here. It'll fix things, or it'll make them worse. And when even the worst-case scenario means waking back up on the train the next day...ugh. He's not entirely unaware of the hypocrisy to the thought that it's probably better than doing nothing and wasting away slowly, but things like this always seem to matter less when they're about him than others.]
...Who knows. ["Maybe that's what they want you to think", etc.] But if it's a choice between death and maybe-not-death, not like you can really go wrong tryin' it.
no subject
I'm Tsurumaru.
(In all of this, he'd never introduced himself and now seems like the best time. Unprompted, at a sudden time, without any further explanation. And he reaches to take some more of the seeds from Shinjiro,)
I wonder what other surprises will await me today. (He looks over at Shinjiro, a calm smile on his face,) I hope its fun.
(Suddenly, he tosses the seeds into his mouth and swallows.)