Stuck in a Moment [Active/Closed]
Characters: Naoto Shirogane and Yosuke Hanamura
Setting: The attic or something. It's the new room. : D
Time: Night 013
Summary: Naoto and Yosuke fun and horrible memory tiemz.
Warnings: Obsessive Naoto being obsessive. Um...well, it's Naoto hurting herself by trying to rip out her eyes. She's not going to be successful, but she's going to get pretty close. So uh...don't read if it squicks you. Also Yosuke RAEG and possible cursing. Actually, cursing. I can say with some confidence that there will be cursing.
The water was still rising and from what she had heard, it wasn't even water anymore. She wanted to check, almost did check, but she could have sworn she had heard Yosuke-san's voice and thought better of it. Now would not be a good time to talk with him. Not right now. She was too busy, she had so much to do and no time for explanations.
Because he would ask her questions. Some of them would naturally be about the investigation and how it was going, but the rest of them...well...she knew what the rest of them would be about. The Detective Prince had yet another distinguishable feature and it was not one she was proud of. The girl now had five deep gashes (scabbed over and healing now, not nearly as bad as they were a few weeks ago) spanning from her left eyebrow down to her cheek and several other marks of the same nature closer to the corner of her right eye. The scratches on the right were far more numerous, but not nearly as deep or as large as the others. Thankfully she had not met anyone who would ask too many questions about them, because quite frankly, it would be humiliating to admit the truth.
Yosuke, on the other hand, would know that those marks had not always been there. He would know, he would ask and after everything he had already seen, everything she never intended him to see, he did not need to see this as well. She did not need a crutch. She did not need pity. She did not need questions. She did not need help. She did not need to see her like this. Naoto could handle this alone. It was easier that way. Everything was so much easier when she was by herself.
Eventually she made her way to the attic, stopping in revulsion and feeling her heart catch in her chest when she came face to face with the creatures lurking there. They did not attack her, whatever they were. They seemed human, but...they weren't. They just weren't. She wasn't sure why she was up here, to be honest. Naoto had been up to the attic several times so she was surprised when she came to the staircase.
That certainly wasn't there before.
Naoto hesitated at the top of the stairs, her foot hovering above the first step for a moment before she began the descent. She had no idea what she would find at the bottom of the stairs, but what sort of detective would she be if she didn't investigate it? The stairs creaked under her feet and every sound made her heart beat faster. There was no light coming from the bottom of the stairs. she couldn't even see where they ended. Should she be doing this? Was this really a wise decision?
The room the stairs led to was pitch black. She couldn't see anything, not even her hand in front of her face. Her hand lingered on the railing for a moment before she stepped further into the darkness. Perhaps there was a light switch somewhere? There had to be something of interest down -
She froze mid-step, feeling nauseated. She blinked once and then again, trying to figure out what just happened. She...how did she end up in the storage room? No, no. She wasn't there. This wasn't the storage room, it didn't feel quite right. It was almost like...almost like...
Oh...oh god.
She could feel the scratching, nagging sensation in the back of her mind. She turned around, her hands running across the walls and wanting to scream. How was this happening? How was this happening again?
The walls felt smooth and curved, but it they weren't. The walls were not a curve. There were corners, four of them, she could count them. She did count them. They were there, the room was not a circle, it wasn't
The angles of the room were all off. The floor was vertical, but it wasn't, it wasn't, and the ceiling was at an impossible angle. This room didn't make sense. It didn't make sense then and it didn't make sense now and she could see herself doing it all over again.
Measuring and measuring and pacing and screaming and pulling at her hair. Throwing her hat to the ground and crawling with one hand pressed against the wall as she made her way around the room again and again and again.
Nothing was right here. Nothing made sense here. This house took rules and laws and bended, twisted and mutilated them - it made a mockery out of humanity, out of everything she stood for and out of everything she believed in. And this room. This damn room. It was impossible. This room was impossible. As soon as she walked in she had felt it - a distinct sort of twinge in the back of her mind, the slight tightening in her gut, the sensation that somehow none of this was right.
She measured the angles again and again. Naoto pulled her hair in frustration, her eyes wide, her breathing erratic. She threw her supplies on the ground with such force that most of them broke, but she couldn't leave yet. She couldn't. This wasn't right. It wasn't right, it wasn't right, it wasn't rightitwasn'trightitwasn'tright.
Kanji was fucked up, this house was fucked up, she was fucked up and this fucking room was driving her up the fucking wall and god damn it what the hell was that feeling. What was that, what was that, what was that. WHAT. WAS. IT.
She sank to the ground, the twinge in her mind getting stronger and stronger until she couldn't take it anymore, but she couldn't leave. She had to figure this out, she had to. She had to. Her hands shook, her fingers twitched, her chest fell and rose with heaving sobs and the itch wasn't going away. It was still there. IT WAS STILL THERE.
Naoto had to fix it, she had to make it right, she had to make it go away. She pulled at her hair, rocking back and forth as her choked sobs filled the room. The detective felt flesh under her fingertips and she knew, she just knew, that this was the only way to make this go away. If she did this the itch would go away, the twinge would be gone and she could finish this and she could figure this out. She could. She could do it.
Blunt nails, her nails, dug into the soft skin on her face. She scratched furiously, clawing and crying and sobbing and screaming and just wanting it to stop, but it wouldn't. It wouldn't stop. The skin broke, but she didn't notice, didn't even care when warm, red liquid started to trickle down her fingers. The sleeves of her shirt turned red before she realized what she was doing, before she understood that she had to get out of here, but the damage was done.
Somehow she was able to stagger out of the storage room. Her hands stained red with her own blood. Her face swollen and her eyes...she was lucky she could see at all right now. If she had stayed in there any longer...she would have...she would have...
The door closed behind her and she fell to her knees once more. Hugging herself tight, she swayed, felt her stomach clench and then threw up.
Oh god what did she do?
Setting: The attic or something. It's the new room. : D
Time: Night 013
Summary: Naoto and Yosuke fun and horrible memory tiemz.
Warnings: Obsessive Naoto being obsessive. Um...well, it's Naoto hurting herself by trying to rip out her eyes. She's not going to be successful, but she's going to get pretty close. So uh...don't read if it squicks you. Also Yosuke RAEG and possible cursing. Actually, cursing. I can say with some confidence that there will be cursing.
The water was still rising and from what she had heard, it wasn't even water anymore. She wanted to check, almost did check, but she could have sworn she had heard Yosuke-san's voice and thought better of it. Now would not be a good time to talk with him. Not right now. She was too busy, she had so much to do and no time for explanations.
Because he would ask her questions. Some of them would naturally be about the investigation and how it was going, but the rest of them...well...she knew what the rest of them would be about. The Detective Prince had yet another distinguishable feature and it was not one she was proud of. The girl now had five deep gashes (scabbed over and healing now, not nearly as bad as they were a few weeks ago) spanning from her left eyebrow down to her cheek and several other marks of the same nature closer to the corner of her right eye. The scratches on the right were far more numerous, but not nearly as deep or as large as the others. Thankfully she had not met anyone who would ask too many questions about them, because quite frankly, it would be humiliating to admit the truth.
Yosuke, on the other hand, would know that those marks had not always been there. He would know, he would ask and after everything he had already seen, everything she never intended him to see, he did not need to see this as well. She did not need a crutch. She did not need pity. She did not need questions. She did not need help. She did not need to see her like this. Naoto could handle this alone. It was easier that way. Everything was so much easier when she was by herself.
Eventually she made her way to the attic, stopping in revulsion and feeling her heart catch in her chest when she came face to face with the creatures lurking there. They did not attack her, whatever they were. They seemed human, but...they weren't. They just weren't. She wasn't sure why she was up here, to be honest. Naoto had been up to the attic several times so she was surprised when she came to the staircase.
That certainly wasn't there before.
Naoto hesitated at the top of the stairs, her foot hovering above the first step for a moment before she began the descent. She had no idea what she would find at the bottom of the stairs, but what sort of detective would she be if she didn't investigate it? The stairs creaked under her feet and every sound made her heart beat faster. There was no light coming from the bottom of the stairs. she couldn't even see where they ended. Should she be doing this? Was this really a wise decision?
The room the stairs led to was pitch black. She couldn't see anything, not even her hand in front of her face. Her hand lingered on the railing for a moment before she stepped further into the darkness. Perhaps there was a light switch somewhere? There had to be something of interest down -
She froze mid-step, feeling nauseated. She blinked once and then again, trying to figure out what just happened. She...how did she end up in the storage room? No, no. She wasn't there. This wasn't the storage room, it didn't feel quite right. It was almost like...almost like...
Oh...oh god.
She could feel the scratching, nagging sensation in the back of her mind. She turned around, her hands running across the walls and wanting to scream. How was this happening? How was this happening again?
The walls felt smooth and curved, but it they weren't. The walls were not a curve. There were corners, four of them, she could count them. She did count them. They were there, the room was not a circle, it wasn't
The angles of the room were all off. The floor was vertical, but it wasn't, it wasn't, and the ceiling was at an impossible angle. This room didn't make sense. It didn't make sense then and it didn't make sense now and she could see herself doing it all over again.
Measuring and measuring and pacing and screaming and pulling at her hair. Throwing her hat to the ground and crawling with one hand pressed against the wall as she made her way around the room again and again and again.
Nothing was right here. Nothing made sense here. This house took rules and laws and bended, twisted and mutilated them - it made a mockery out of humanity, out of everything she stood for and out of everything she believed in. And this room. This damn room. It was impossible. This room was impossible. As soon as she walked in she had felt it - a distinct sort of twinge in the back of her mind, the slight tightening in her gut, the sensation that somehow none of this was right.
She measured the angles again and again. Naoto pulled her hair in frustration, her eyes wide, her breathing erratic. She threw her supplies on the ground with such force that most of them broke, but she couldn't leave yet. She couldn't. This wasn't right. It wasn't right, it wasn't right, it wasn't rightitwasn'trightitwasn'tright.
Kanji was fucked up, this house was fucked up, she was fucked up and this fucking room was driving her up the fucking wall and god damn it what the hell was that feeling. What was that, what was that, what was that. WHAT. WAS. IT.
She sank to the ground, the twinge in her mind getting stronger and stronger until she couldn't take it anymore, but she couldn't leave. She had to figure this out, she had to. She had to. Her hands shook, her fingers twitched, her chest fell and rose with heaving sobs and the itch wasn't going away. It was still there. IT WAS STILL THERE.
Naoto had to fix it, she had to make it right, she had to make it go away. She pulled at her hair, rocking back and forth as her choked sobs filled the room. The detective felt flesh under her fingertips and she knew, she just knew, that this was the only way to make this go away. If she did this the itch would go away, the twinge would be gone and she could finish this and she could figure this out. She could. She could do it.
Blunt nails, her nails, dug into the soft skin on her face. She scratched furiously, clawing and crying and sobbing and screaming and just wanting it to stop, but it wouldn't. It wouldn't stop. The skin broke, but she didn't notice, didn't even care when warm, red liquid started to trickle down her fingers. The sleeves of her shirt turned red before she realized what she was doing, before she understood that she had to get out of here, but the damage was done.
Somehow she was able to stagger out of the storage room. Her hands stained red with her own blood. Her face swollen and her eyes...she was lucky she could see at all right now. If she had stayed in there any longer...she would have...she would have...
The door closed behind her and she fell to her knees once more. Hugging herself tight, she swayed, felt her stomach clench and then threw up.
Oh god what did she do?