Half lucid contemplation
I'm not panicked, nor worried. It's strange, I worry for the well-being of others when they aren't in peril, but when they are, there is only a dark, cold sensation permeating through me. I think I'm tainted, having seen and experienced practically every horror imaginable already. My first thought upon hearing the news? It must be possible for foreign countries to enter Toshima. That may not be true, it may be a coup d'etat or government scare tactic, which I highly doubt, but it was still my first thought. I don't think i-jin can die, and of the few good friends I have here, all but one are here with me, so their possible deaths didn't even occur to me. And as for locals, there's only acquaintances, mainly clients, and I can't expend the energy to care for them.
Even now, nearly a day later, I still feel detached from it all. My mind clicks with theories and the only frustration I feel is for the knowledge I lack. My mind refuses to venture down the paths of anxiety for that which I can't change and feeds me practical questions. Do any of II-Re's messages in the languages I can't read reveal any great secrets, any prior knowledge? And when will the next attack come? Because the chance it will eventually is higher than I'd like.
Angels in battlefields and happy reunions are what give everyone else peace, but for me it's a full understanding of it all, as though it would change anything. I'm dead inside, perhaps. Even last time when Dallas caught me and I lay there in that unlit basement for a week, in and out of consciousness and teetering on the edge of death, I still felt the same disassociation as now. I let fate do as it pleased as I clinically assessed my health and the situation at large.
This is why I should be kept away from any writing or typing instruments when I get pensive. I get compelled to let my consciousness run free and wind up revealing too much and sounding verbose. But I won't censor myself. If it backfires I'll accept the fallout, as I always do when I let my mouth (or fingers) run on.
I'll close by saying I do hope no one was hurt too badly, and of those who are, I wish you good luck in finding help. I offer my own services, which consist of first-aid skills I learned from a one day class I took when I was ten, decent food, and my temporary residence here in one of the working rooms. There's plenty of space in here if you need a safe place to rest.