Fighting Words [closed; complete]
Who: Kanda and Daisya
What: Kanda goes looking for the fight that they started here.
Where: Starting on the boat, then the beach.
When: Saturday morning.
Kanda sat in an alcove of the ship, his back resting in the gap between two rows of crates and his journal laying open on the deck beside him. Everything-every part of his body and even some things that weren't, strictly speaking, a part of it-hurt, the kind of hurt that made him angry.
There actually wasn't anything he could even think of right now that didn't make him angry.
Wrapped carefully in the tattered remnants of his coat and tucked safely into his belt, the shattered fragments of his sword weighed strangely heavy, a part of him made suddenly unfamiliar. Absent and present at once. It nettled. Like knowing that he'd left the fucking Noah alive. That he'd been so fucking close and then woken up here on this damn ship and never gotten the chance to finish him.
His chest hurt when he breathed; his hands ached like someone had poured hot gravel in his joints; his skin there was raw, burned. He'd had to crawl across the damn deck to gather up the pieces of Mugen that lay scattered all around him. And then he'd found the fucking journal. And everything had gotten worse. All of this stupid confusing garbage about what this place was and what had happened here before-what he was supposed to have DONE here before. And all these damn stupid strangers who figured they had his number.
Well he was finished with that. He wasn't going to do whatever it was that they expected him to do. He wasn't going to belong to them. This ship might be going to those fucking docks that he saw getting nearer and nearer through the porthole, but he wasn't.
He was going to find Daisya and punch him in the damn face. Or else…or else…
Well, he'd figure it out when he got there.
At the moment he was just fighting mad. And exhausted. Which made him even madder, because that wasn't even about Daisya-maybe none of this was about Daisya really. But Kanda wanted a damn fight. He hadn't even got to finish his last one. And yeah, he sure as hell did know where to go to look for it.
Slamming his journal shut he dragged himself to his feet, then had to pause and clutch his chest, gritting his teeth against a wave of pain and dizziness. Damn it, he didn't have the time for this now!
He more staggered than stalked up onto the main deck and over to the railing. Yes, he'd read what the entry had said about sea monsters (and damn giant clams, for that matter), but if he waited until they were close enough to shore he should be fine. And yes the salt water would hurt. He could deal with the hurt. He had more important things to worry about.
His eyes scanned the deck, scanned the shoreline. He waited. And then he jumped.
What: Kanda goes looking for the fight that they started here.
Where: Starting on the boat, then the beach.
When: Saturday morning.
Kanda sat in an alcove of the ship, his back resting in the gap between two rows of crates and his journal laying open on the deck beside him. Everything-every part of his body and even some things that weren't, strictly speaking, a part of it-hurt, the kind of hurt that made him angry.
There actually wasn't anything he could even think of right now that didn't make him angry.
Wrapped carefully in the tattered remnants of his coat and tucked safely into his belt, the shattered fragments of his sword weighed strangely heavy, a part of him made suddenly unfamiliar. Absent and present at once. It nettled. Like knowing that he'd left the fucking Noah alive. That he'd been so fucking close and then woken up here on this damn ship and never gotten the chance to finish him.
His chest hurt when he breathed; his hands ached like someone had poured hot gravel in his joints; his skin there was raw, burned. He'd had to crawl across the damn deck to gather up the pieces of Mugen that lay scattered all around him. And then he'd found the fucking journal. And everything had gotten worse. All of this stupid confusing garbage about what this place was and what had happened here before-what he was supposed to have DONE here before. And all these damn stupid strangers who figured they had his number.
Well he was finished with that. He wasn't going to do whatever it was that they expected him to do. He wasn't going to belong to them. This ship might be going to those fucking docks that he saw getting nearer and nearer through the porthole, but he wasn't.
He was going to find Daisya and punch him in the damn face. Or else…or else…
Well, he'd figure it out when he got there.
At the moment he was just fighting mad. And exhausted. Which made him even madder, because that wasn't even about Daisya-maybe none of this was about Daisya really. But Kanda wanted a damn fight. He hadn't even got to finish his last one. And yeah, he sure as hell did know where to go to look for it.
Slamming his journal shut he dragged himself to his feet, then had to pause and clutch his chest, gritting his teeth against a wave of pain and dizziness. Damn it, he didn't have the time for this now!
He more staggered than stalked up onto the main deck and over to the railing. Yes, he'd read what the entry had said about sea monsters (and damn giant clams, for that matter), but if he waited until they were close enough to shore he should be fine. And yes the salt water would hurt. He could deal with the hurt. He had more important things to worry about.
His eyes scanned the deck, scanned the shoreline. He waited. And then he jumped.