creaaative title goes here | closed, son.
Who: bigjalapeno & torporheart
When: evening time, then night tiiime. oh, um & on thhheee 15th of january?
Where: baseball field! ( miharu. what. )
Summary: miharu. oh, miharu. he's trying to figure things out on his own, and this has lead him to heading back where he showed up. BUT GUESS WHO HE'S GONNA MEET? GUESS. :D
Warnings: skinny tiny child. giant huge gargoyle. does this put a frown on ur face? why are you reading it? but seriously, if it needs warnings. i'll put them up.
The self-blame was biting.
At least, he was sure of it. This. Everything was because he used that stupid 'fairy', but why couldn't he remember? And why would he want everyone to end up in a place like this? That's where it didn't make any sense.
Swapping between doubt and certainty that all this is his fault-- it was only one factor that kept him from sleeping.
At times, he would tip back against where the wall made a corner around his bed. His limbs would go limp, for fluttering moments, before he jerked, heart kicking.
He couldn't find his appetite. He didn't really care. But it made him stuck in a hazy state. A light layer of fog on the edges of his vision.
Sleep. He couldn't do it. He has to do something. Since finding his room, all he's done is sit in that bad, holding his legs, and mulling. Useless, little thing.
It takes some time, but he finally decides to leave. He's not sure what he'll find, if he'll find anything at all, but- maybe, maybe.
Since he hasn't gone anywhere, he doesn't have any belongings. This means, he's still ( shivering ) in his pajamas and socks when he gets outside. His arms are kept close, to the center of his chest, as he moves alone. Everything is kind of gross in this city, isn't it? He doesn't like the way people eye him, so his gaze remains downcast as much as possible.
The air here. The noises.
The baseball field.
He hesitates at the entrance. The first few steps are tentative, and he realizes that the field is much larger than he thought. He can finally make out the words scrawled ugly across the walls, and they don't do much to improve his mood.
What's he expecting to find? Maybe, if he just sat it would come to him?
A mildly deflated sigh, because seriously, what is he doing?
Something, gray and large, catches his attention. He can't remember if it was there before, when he arrived, but he's making his way over to it in the grass, arms moving to his sides.
A statue. An ugly statue. What are these things called again? They're meant to ward off evil, right? The small child squats in front of it, elbows on knees, chin in palms.
"You should find somewhere else to play baseball," he tells it, before he looks around again. Nothing else really pulls him in. It's all the usual 'baseball field' stuff. Just this, statue.
Oh, well.
When Miharu stands again, it's only to move around it, set back down in the grass, and lean against it. How did he get here? How is everyone here? Shinrabanshou? Kairoushuu was after him, Yukimi came, and then-- what?
It's habit. Knees draw up. His face is partly set against them. Toes curl.
When: evening time, then night tiiime. oh, um & on thhheee 15th of january?
Where: baseball field! ( miharu. what. )
Summary: miharu. oh, miharu. he's trying to figure things out on his own, and this has lead him to heading back where he showed up. BUT GUESS WHO HE'S GONNA MEET? GUESS. :D
Warnings: skinny tiny child. giant huge gargoyle. does this put a frown on ur face? why are you reading it? but seriously, if it needs warnings. i'll put them up.
The self-blame was biting.
At least, he was sure of it. This. Everything was because he used that stupid 'fairy', but why couldn't he remember? And why would he want everyone to end up in a place like this? That's where it didn't make any sense.
Swapping between doubt and certainty that all this is his fault-- it was only one factor that kept him from sleeping.
At times, he would tip back against where the wall made a corner around his bed. His limbs would go limp, for fluttering moments, before he jerked, heart kicking.
He couldn't find his appetite. He didn't really care. But it made him stuck in a hazy state. A light layer of fog on the edges of his vision.
Sleep. He couldn't do it. He has to do something. Since finding his room, all he's done is sit in that bad, holding his legs, and mulling. Useless, little thing.
It takes some time, but he finally decides to leave. He's not sure what he'll find, if he'll find anything at all, but- maybe, maybe.
Since he hasn't gone anywhere, he doesn't have any belongings. This means, he's still ( shivering ) in his pajamas and socks when he gets outside. His arms are kept close, to the center of his chest, as he moves alone. Everything is kind of gross in this city, isn't it? He doesn't like the way people eye him, so his gaze remains downcast as much as possible.
The air here. The noises.
The baseball field.
He hesitates at the entrance. The first few steps are tentative, and he realizes that the field is much larger than he thought. He can finally make out the words scrawled ugly across the walls, and they don't do much to improve his mood.
What's he expecting to find? Maybe, if he just sat it would come to him?
A mildly deflated sigh, because seriously, what is he doing?
Something, gray and large, catches his attention. He can't remember if it was there before, when he arrived, but he's making his way over to it in the grass, arms moving to his sides.
A statue. An ugly statue. What are these things called again? They're meant to ward off evil, right? The small child squats in front of it, elbows on knees, chin in palms.
"You should find somewhere else to play baseball," he tells it, before he looks around again. Nothing else really pulls him in. It's all the usual 'baseball field' stuff. Just this, statue.
Oh, well.
When Miharu stands again, it's only to move around it, set back down in the grass, and lean against it. How did he get here? How is everyone here? Shinrabanshou? Kairoushuu was after him, Yukimi came, and then-- what?
It's habit. Knees draw up. His face is partly set against them. Toes curl.