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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"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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