sweetdeath | [19 | voice, Japanese]

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[19 | voice, Japanese]

Ow, my head--

So, uh. Sorry to worry you guys! You can ignore that thing the other day... this stupid thing wasn't supposed to turn on.

I'm just fine, really! Though I'm gonna have to spring for a new coat whenever I get home... man, dry-cleaning isn't gonna cut it for this kind of stuff.

That aside... uh, well, since I'm in the hospital anyway, you guys need help? I can wrap bandages with the best!

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Hey, Okita-san. ...Hope I didn't worry you too much.

Well! You were going to come back anyway, right~?

Uh, right! No permanent harm done, haha!

[...]

Would you like someone to pick you up at the hospital?

...Yeah, actually. It's probably stupid to ask this, but you're all right alone on the streets, right?

I can defend myself, don't worry ♥

Okay. ...I was more worried about the really big monsters. I think most of them are gone, though, right?

I think so. In either case, I can't let a friend go out by himself in these circumstances either, can I?

Well, I was just planning to stay here for a while, but... well, I appreciate it. Thanks.

Don't worry about it~

Tsuzuki sagged back to sit on the bed after Muraki left, his hands clenching and re-clenching on the old sheets. He wanted to follow the mad doctor, but he knew better; he wasn't in any condition for a fight. Even if he had been, the damned chip got in the way. Hand to hand against Muraki? He'd tried; it would be as futile as a fistfight with Terazuma, but with much higher stakes.

And Okita was on his way. Reminded, he heaved himself to his feet again, wobbling towards the door for a few steps before he found his balance. Cracking the door carefully and glancing outside, he took a deep breath of relief. Muraki was nowhere in sight.

He glanced at the room number, then retreated, closing himself into the room again.

Late, enough that he suspected Okita would know there was something wrong, he toggled the audio on his communicator.

"Oh, I'm in room 213, Okita-san," he said, a little too bright and cheerful. Good enough.

He slipped the communicator safely into the pocket of his ragged coat and waited.

He had, indeed, already been on his way. He figured he'd find his way to Tsuzuki's room somehow, if the man didn't tell him the number himself.

So to hear it, after some time, surprises him. He doesn't suspect Tsuzuki to be alright-- after all, he had just been killed. And even if he was already long dead, that can't have been pleasant. But his friend deserves the benefit of the doubt.

Besides, he can't blame Tsuzuki for doing the same thing he himself does, often enough.

He arrives not much later, calling from the other side of the door to make his presence known. "Tsuzuki-san? Is this the right room?"

"Yes, it is!" Tsuzuki hurried to the door, as fast as his still-weakened state would allow, and pulled it open. He'd flinched at the Tsuzuki-san, but Okita's voice wasn't anything like Muraki's; and Muraki was...

Was elsewhere.

Elsewhere, possibly killing.

He leaned against the wall, waiting for Okita to enter, gaze fixed somewhere distant in the air.

He enters quietly, calmly. He does his best not to show his worry, especially when he pokes his head around the door and watches Tsuzuki.

Something else than deat had happened. For a dead man, Tsuzuki looked too upset.

"Hello," he says gently, smiling his regular smile. "How are you doing, Tsuzuki-san?" He asks as he steps into the room, allowing the man to focus on something else.

"In one piece," Tsuzuki said, refocusing with a wan smile. He hesitated for a moment to ask, but couldn't not. "Did you see... a man in white in the hospital?"

He blinks a little, thinking. "A man in white? No. I don't think so. But I didn't really stop to check! Would you like me to go see, Tsuzuki-san?" He smiles, trying to reassure Tsuzuki.

"No!" He shook his head violently. No no no, Okita was his friend, and Okita was human - Tsuzuki swallowed and tried to regain his footing.

He stepped out of the room, hand on the doorjamb for support. "No. He's... I didn't know he was here. He's dangerous."

Souji follows Tsuzuki out of the room, his hand unconsciously on the hilt of his sword. "Maybe he just arrived?"

It's clear from Tsuzuki's reaction that this is a very dangerous individual, and he knows Tsuzuki can be very strong when he has to be. So he's glad he came to pick his friend up at the hospital-- who knows what could have happened if he hadn't come? "In either case, I'll try to make sure he doesn't enter the high school. And since Tsuzuki-san is part of the police force, maybe he could alert them?"

"He must have," Tsuzuki murmured. He wouldn't have left me alone if he hadn't.

Another shaky breath, and he made a conscious effort to straighten up, step away from the wall he was using as support, even considered a smile for a moment before discarding it. Too obviously false.

"I'll tell them. He hasn't done anything here - yet...." He shook his head, and his voice grew quieter. "Okita-san, he's threatened to hurt other people here if he can't get to me. It might not be... safe to keep him away from the high school entirely." But all the other people there....

He managed a quick half-smile. "I could find somewhere else to stay."

He knows it's a low move, but Tsuzuki won't listen to reason in times like these. He knows his friend well enough to know that. So Souji ponders that for a second, then raises an eyebrow at the shinigami.

"Tsuzuki-san," he says, sounding a tad offended, as much as he thinks he can get away with, "Do you doubt our ability to defend ourselves? He may be dangerous, but there are far more dangerous people in the building." He's trying to play Tsuzuki's conscience a little, make him feel bad for 'insulting' Souji. He won't hear of this-- if Tsuzuki is in danger, he wants to keep his friend as close as possible.

Expression melting into something more genuine, Tsuzuki shook his head. "...Thanks, Okita-san. There are kids, though, too." Kyon and Haruhi couldn't defend themselves. And he wasn't sure about the rest of the school's residents.

He slipped his hands into his pockets. He would have to have his chip removed. Soon.

"You probably can beat him, as long as he has his chip in," he murmured, unseeing as he stared at the ceiling. "I know he's carried a gun. Most of his murders, though - the ones in Kyoto he did with a knife...." Muraki wouldn't have his magical supplies here, either. No wires made of woman's hair; no pentacles, no zombies, no summoned beasts to feed on the innocent -

His hands clenched into sudden fists, the image of a beak tearing a girl's flesh seared across his mind in red, and he stumbled to a stop by the stairwell door.

"Tsuzuki-san!" He rushes to Tsuzuki's side, gently putting a hand on his friend's arm. "Tsuzuki-san... I should have brought you something to eat. I'm sorry." He knows it's not hunger or thirst that's making Tsuzuki behave like this, though. He knows it's probably his memories, if he's able to recall the way Muraki killed his victims so easily...

His hand tightens on Tsuzuki's arm momentarily, angry because of these crazed people who make good people suffer. Causing others to lose their minds... Poor Tetsunosuke-kun, for example.

He shakes off these sentiments with a roll of his shoulders. Tsuzuki needs him right now, he can't be thinking like this.

For once, the thought of food didn't perk Tsuzuki up. His stomach did a slow roll. Swallowing, he leaned against the touch for a moment, absorbing the offered comfort, and then deliberately turned his thoughts away.

In a lighter voice, he said, "Well... we'll manage!"

They'd have to. He pulled the stairwell door open and started down.

He closes his eyes a second before following Tsuzuki down the stairs, slightly annoyed at Tsuzuki's behaviour. He realises that it's exactlyw hat he does, himself, but in others it's hard to deal with.

"I'll make you something when we get back, then," he chirps, brushing some hair out of his eyes.

His hand is still on his sword.

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[19 | voice, Japanese]

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[commentlog, since muraki's leaving~?]

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