Who: Kengamine Nagi [
striginae ] & OPEN
Where: Terra ; small park just outside the K-12 school
When: Early evening
Summary: Someone's just quietly paying their respects.
Rating: PG?
Other: Because I need to get this guy out meeting more people :|
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[ ... それに関する人の『考』えにである ] ✘ [ Anxiety Is Not About The Issue. It Is Actually About People's 'Mind' Related to the Issue That They Are Afraid Of. ] )
He was shuffling down the sidewalk, kicking rocks as he went and sucking on a cigarette with an intense and brooding expression. He just wanted to find a place he could relax for a while, but he ended up wandering around the perimeter of his school instead. One particularly large rock connected with the plastic toe of his canvas sneaker, went soaring through the air, and it was only then that Shikamaru noticed someone else was around.
"Shit..."
Too late, that stone was going to hit that somebody in the back.
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Though the tension drained out of his limbs soon enough, when he realized that it was only a teenager, most likely come here for a breath of fresh air. Nothing to be wary of. A vaguely familiar face -- maybe a student from school that he'd seen before?
A small sigh, as he straightened up, gingerly rubbing his back, not exactly sure of what to do or say. Then, the slight waft of smoke was noted, and he gave a weak laugh -- one of the disapproving sort -- giving the cigarette a nod. "Aren't you a little young to be smoking?"
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"Uh..." Shikamaru stared, dumbfounded. Then he threw his cigarette onto the sidewalk and smothered it under his shoe. "I, uh. Sorry..."
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The dumbfounded stare continued, and he almost flinched back, trying to avoid it -- not very sure of what to say. It must look strange, for him to be at the memorial, which was why he'd come at this time, when it was still day, but few people were around -- pity the plan had to go awry. "No, it's -- alright." An awkward pause, and he clutched at the folds of his scarf, glancing distractedly back at the altar.
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He glanced over to the altar. All those kids dead... If this teacher hadn't done it, then he was probably pretty devastated by it. Shikamaru could sympathize, which was strange because he'd never lost anyone he cared about. Every since those few messed up days, though, he'd felt like he was in mourning too. And there wasn't anyone he could talk to about it.
Hesitantly, Shikamaru approached the altar. He didn't have flowers to leave or any prayers to say, so he shoved his hands into the pockets of his jacket. "Hard to believe it happened to kids from here," he mumbled. It was a quiet night, just like it always was. He could have believed bad stuff never happened there.
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A small nod, and he looked back to the altar, speaking softly. "It's been jarring to everyone, to think that someone could force innocent children to such a ruthless fate." Even synthetic, the pain in his voice was obvious, and he clutched tight at his scarf -- the same nervous habit that had never faded. "Even with the other children, from the Abyss, and such -- it's wrong that they should have to face such a gruesome end."
Somehow, the faintest trace of anger had crept into his voice in those last few words -- a fact he realized too late. Quickly turning away, he shook his head. This probably didn't help the accusations pointed at him, in any way.
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Scared as he had been to run into this guy outside the school at night, though, Shikamaru was starting to believe this wasn't the killer at all. And it was the anger in the teacher's voice, actually, that was convincing him. Because he wasn't angry at the kids. That was the sound of hate for the one who had killed them.
Shikamaru gazed up at the man out of the corner of his eye. He wondered for a second, if anything happened to him, would his teachers be out here mourning him? Ha, probably not. They wouldn't notice.
"They'll catch the ones who did this," Shikamaru said finally. "With so many kids, someone must have seen something, right? Or... there's gotta be evidence somewhere."
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And with each time he spoke these half-lies, it was growing harder to bear the irony of the situation -- he was the one suspected for this travesty, the one who knew of the real culprit, but unable to reveal the truth. No doubt pointing fingers would be futile, as long as Genkaku remained hidden under the Senator's wing -- manipulating information to point the blame right back at him would no doubt be far too easy, and his remaining students would be put directly into the path of danger. And until the Senator knew of what was going on -- . It was unlikely that the police would ever reach the answer. (I must stop him, myself. I was the one who led him to the children -- I must pay for that mistake.)
Shaking off the hesitant pause, he gave a small nod. "I certainly hope so. For one to commit such a crime and not be punished for -- it's unthinkable." He'd repeated these almost-lies so often, it was almost growing easier, to pretend he knew nothing, to play the part of the innocent victim. "I suppose the best I can do is hope."
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What the hell was he even talking about? He didn't know anything about this stuff. But he had that sick feeling in his stomach again, his thoughts going back to that hallucination and all those emotions that came with it.
"It's the worst," he muttered. "People getting away with murder... I can't stand that." He shook his head, pulled out his cigarette pack and lighter, and moved to light up again. Apparently he forgot he was still hanging around a teacher.
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"Legal punishment and revenge aren't so different, I suppose." Reaching into his pocket, he drew the few sticks of incense he'd brought -- carefully arranging them in the ceramic bowl. It was already littered with fragments of old incense that had been burnt out. "But I believe that stopping the culprit is important, above all. Punishment is of high priority, certainly -- but it is merely an act of violence, in the end. Another step in an endless cycle of brutality that achieves little. Putting a halt to the process, first, to break away from it and allow those involved a chance to move on. That is what I feel is most important." The bittersweet scent of incense carried in the air, as the sticks were lit, and Nagi gave a small sigh, rising back to his feet.
Maybe the simple act of vocalizing his beliefs had helped him, in some small way, and he was suddenly aware of the gentle waft of cigarette smoke to accompany the incense. A student already ingrained in the habit, perhaps? He couldn't help but give a weak laugh. "I'm sorry if I've bored you with my talk, but I would much appreciate it if you refrained."
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"I guess you're right," Shikamaru mumbled, in no position to argue, though he still felt that if he was in that position, he wouldn't be able to stop himself from going after the killer. What did he know, though? Maybe if he was actually going through it, he'd just be as tired and sad as this teacher was. Maybe he'd be just like this, coming out when no one was around and otherwise hiding and waiting for it to all be over.
He felt stupid for even opening his mouth.
And felt even more stupid when he realized he was smoking again. "Oh crap," he sighed, throwing his fresh cigarette down. "I'm sorry. Geez, when I get stressed, I don't even notice I'm doing it anymore. I gotta quit..."
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The scent of incense, fragrant and faintly sweet, filled the air, and Nagi gave the altar a deep nod, eyes closed. (Goodnight. Please rest in peace. It's the best I can pray for, after what you've been through at his hands.)
The impromptu ritual over and done with, he was suddenly aware of the situation -- how odd it felt, to have opened himself up to a stranger, and such a young one. A shy, awkward sort of laugh escaped his lips -- and he scratched the back of his head. "I'm sorry -- it must have been uncomfortable, to have to put up with all this speaking."
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In silence, he watched the man pay his respects to the dead. It wasn't right, when the old outlived the young. (Why did he suddenly care so much about this?) Shikamaru bowed his head as well, watching the smoke rise from the incense, and all he could be glad for was that none of the kids were suffering now.
When the man laughed, Shikamaru glanced back to him. "No, it's..." It definitely wasn't the most comfortable encounter ever, but he wasn't scared like he had been when he first got there, and it wasn't weird either. If he was one to believe in fate, he might have called this a fateful meeting. "I think you've kinda... helped me work through something. Or begin to, anyway." That was the best way he could put it.
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A pause, before he finally turned away from the altar. He'd done what he could, for now. Several times, already, he'd visited this memorial since it was first erected, and no doubt he'd stop by it once in a while -- to apologize, to watch, to ask that the children no longer suffer. But for now, as the night chill began settling, it was nearing time for him to take his leave.
Eyes wandering away from the faintly glowing incense sticks, he gave the student a weak smile. "I -- must also thank you, for not simply running." It had been a long time, since he'd been able to feel even remotely at ease in the presence of a stranger, but here and now, the tension that had built up in his chest had drained out somewhat. "It must have been frightening, to have to face someone named a suspect for such a case. So -- as silly as it may sound -- thank you for listening."
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He couldn't even begin to explain any of it, but really he ought to have been the one giving thanks.
"You don't need to thank me for that," Shikamaru replied with a passive shrug. His lips twitched into a wry smile. "It didn't take me very long to see there's no way in hell you would've murdered those kids. Anybody who thinks you did is some kind of idiot."
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