Shinjiro Aragaki (荒垣 真次郎) (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
themortalhalf) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
destinystrings2012-09-29 01:56 pm
themortalhalf) wrote in destinystrings2012-09-29 01:56 pm
[Closed] Oh, I've seen fire and I've seen rain
Who: Shinjiro Aragaki (themortalhalf) and Miki Sanada (helenchanted) and Akihiko Sanada (risetocaesar).
Minor appearances by Minako Arisato (greatseal) and Minato Arisato (fools_journey)
Where: Shinjiro's Apartment (Libra 7-06)
Summary: The orphan trio has a lot of catching up to do. Continued from here.
Warnings: Some possible language on Shinjiro's part. Teal deer. IDK.
Shinjiro pours the green tea he's made into two ceramic cups, leaving them onto the counter near the side of the sink absentmindedly, giving the tea a few minutes to cool while he waits for Miki to get back from changing out of her festival clothes. Perhaps she hadn't needed to, but what they had needed was a few minutes to breathe, and he was more than willing to give her as much space and time as she needed before coming down to his apartment again. They both needed a few moments to themselves before diving into things. Most of which he wasn't looking forward to telling her. Not when she had looked so upset and confused as it was—though she seemed to possess the Sanada habit to recover fairly quickly, all things considered. Meanwhile, he's still trying to digest some of the things Minako had told him.
He wonders then if he should make something quick and more substantial to go along with the tea, though decides against it seconds later. Food would only be an unwanted distraction that would probably be left mostly untouched. And... hell, he doesn't even know what food Miki likes now. That alone makes him suddenly and painfully aware of the divide that's between them. She seemingly knows him, but... he doesn't know her. Just the shadow of her that rests in the dust-filled hallways of a part of his life that's come and gone.
She was clearly different now, exuding the type of confidence he never expected out of the little girl that was, in his mind, little but a fragment of memory a decade decayed. He suddenly feels inadequate. He isn't her Shinjiro, after all. He'll never remember her like she might be expecting him to. He doesn't know how to fix this kind of thing. How to start over. Continue from where they left off. It had been ten long years for him. Who knows how long for her. This place was a pain in the ass, even though no words can quite express how happy he is to know that she's been able to make a life for herself somewhere, and that he and Aki had maybe been able to be a part of it—for a little while, at least. And it's comforting, in a way, that he has the chance to see what kind of person she could have been, as much as it pains him to see the potential that was cut short in his own.
He finally sits in one of the kitchen chairs, leaning his elbows on the table, watching the door. He no longer feels the sting from the scrape on his face from where the geta had hit him, though he can still feel the rough redness that's making his eyes feel dry and irritated, though he had managed to dam everything back as they had made their way back to the apartments. Shinjiro hadn't trusted himself to talk for more than a few words at a time, and his mind was busy enough trying to figure out what to do. How to tell her the things she needed and deserved to know, and how to ask the questions of her that needed to be answered. He had to be so damn sure about everything this time, about who she was (though he didn't doubt it), about what had happened in her timeline and where they stood at this point, that it would kill him to find out that he was wrong.
He couldn't bring Aki into this until then. He could do that much for him at least—and her. He didn't know what kind of timeline Miki had been taken from, but she couldn't have any idea how her brother had lived on his side. How he probably couldn't pass a single toy store without thinking of her. There's a reason they rarely brought her up.
He picks up his COMP then, absentmindedly at first, before he fires a text message Minato's way.
Make sure you get the right tank with a filter.
10 gallons if she's bringing home one. Bigger if she wants more.
Though maybe they had already found something at this point. He doesn't know. But the text would do its job. It says "look after your sister" just as much as it says "we're fine, so stop worrying." As "fine" as things can be, anyway. And Minako will know about it if she's around. Might keep the eventual interrogation at bay for a little while longer.
And now he all he can do is wait. For the tea to cool and Miki to come back and his emotions to settle.
themortalhalf) and Miki Sanada (helenchanted) and Akihiko Sanada (risetocaesar). Minor appearances by Minako Arisato (
greatseal) and Minato Arisato (fools_journey)Where: Shinjiro's Apartment (Libra 7-06)
Summary: The orphan trio has a lot of catching up to do. Continued from here.
Warnings: Some possible language on Shinjiro's part. Teal deer. IDK.
Shinjiro pours the green tea he's made into two ceramic cups, leaving them onto the counter near the side of the sink absentmindedly, giving the tea a few minutes to cool while he waits for Miki to get back from changing out of her festival clothes. Perhaps she hadn't needed to, but what they had needed was a few minutes to breathe, and he was more than willing to give her as much space and time as she needed before coming down to his apartment again. They both needed a few moments to themselves before diving into things. Most of which he wasn't looking forward to telling her. Not when she had looked so upset and confused as it was—though she seemed to possess the Sanada habit to recover fairly quickly, all things considered. Meanwhile, he's still trying to digest some of the things Minako had told him.
He wonders then if he should make something quick and more substantial to go along with the tea, though decides against it seconds later. Food would only be an unwanted distraction that would probably be left mostly untouched. And... hell, he doesn't even know what food Miki likes now. That alone makes him suddenly and painfully aware of the divide that's between them. She seemingly knows him, but... he doesn't know her. Just the shadow of her that rests in the dust-filled hallways of a part of his life that's come and gone.
She was clearly different now, exuding the type of confidence he never expected out of the little girl that was, in his mind, little but a fragment of memory a decade decayed. He suddenly feels inadequate. He isn't her Shinjiro, after all. He'll never remember her like she might be expecting him to. He doesn't know how to fix this kind of thing. How to start over. Continue from where they left off. It had been ten long years for him. Who knows how long for her. This place was a pain in the ass, even though no words can quite express how happy he is to know that she's been able to make a life for herself somewhere, and that he and Aki had maybe been able to be a part of it—for a little while, at least. And it's comforting, in a way, that he has the chance to see what kind of person she could have been, as much as it pains him to see the potential that was cut short in his own.
He finally sits in one of the kitchen chairs, leaning his elbows on the table, watching the door. He no longer feels the sting from the scrape on his face from where the geta had hit him, though he can still feel the rough redness that's making his eyes feel dry and irritated, though he had managed to dam everything back as they had made their way back to the apartments. Shinjiro hadn't trusted himself to talk for more than a few words at a time, and his mind was busy enough trying to figure out what to do. How to tell her the things she needed and deserved to know, and how to ask the questions of her that needed to be answered. He had to be so damn sure about everything this time, about who she was (though he didn't doubt it), about what had happened in her timeline and where they stood at this point, that it would kill him to find out that he was wrong.
He couldn't bring Aki into this until then. He could do that much for him at least—and her. He didn't know what kind of timeline Miki had been taken from, but she couldn't have any idea how her brother had lived on his side. How he probably couldn't pass a single toy store without thinking of her. There's a reason they rarely brought her up.
He picks up his COMP then, absentmindedly at first, before he fires a text message Minato's way.
Make sure you get the right tank with a filter.
10 gallons if she's bringing home one. Bigger if she wants more.
Though maybe they had already found something at this point. He doesn't know. But the text would do its job. It says "look after your sister" just as much as it says "we're fine, so stop worrying." As "fine" as things can be, anyway. And Minako will know about it if she's around. Might keep the eventual interrogation at bay for a little while longer.
And now he all he can do is wait. For the tea to cool and Miki to come back and his emotions to settle.
no subject
Except they all know better.
"Tch." He pushes back the knot in his throat. "See?"
It's all he says, throat tight. It's all he needs to say, because that's all they need to do. Just use their eyes and look at what's in front of them: two people that are, in the end, not that different from each other. And certainly no one to be afraid of.
He certainly knows what he sees. It doesn't quite line up with what he imagined, but the reality in front of him isn't all that surprising. He sees a girl who grew up into someone to be proud of, and had long ago emerged out of her older brother's shadow. He also sees a friend who's never been weak—all he needed deep down was a split-second of opportunity. If given that, he could accomplish whatever he damn well put his mind to. It was never a question about being strong, it was merely a difference in circumstances. A few seconds of luck.
And luck was about chance more than it ever was about skill.
no subject
He had to smile, even as he continued to fight against his own tears. They were so alike. Her mindset was one he could appreciate from experience, and somehow he wasn't surprised that they had both grown up in their respective worlds wanting to protect the other.
He glanced at Shinji, briefly, wiping at his eyes with his sleeve. It wasn't a very discreet attempt.
"Thank you," was all he said for the time being. He wasn't sure if it was appropriate or not -- of course Shinji would have called him to see Miki -- and yet it was the only thing that felt right.
He exhaled slowly as he turned back to his sister, his eyes now rimmed with red. Appearances be damned.
"We have a lot of catching up to do."
no subject
We have a lot of catching up to do.
"Yeah. We do." There was so much she had wanted to tell him and learn about him over the years she imagines an entire line of thoughts just waiting for their turn. "I'm not even sure where to start...maybe we should all sit down." These aren't the biggest apartments, but right now, that very moment, it is probably the most at home that Miki has ever felt in her life. She looks over to Shinjiro again.
"Thank you," she repeats much like Akihiko before her. She knows that he's not a fan of compliments in general, but it didn't matter right now. He'd have to take his thank yous and accept them.
no subject
But instead of keeping to his place against the wall, he does move to sit down somewhere. "She just hit me with her geta, that's it."
As though it was her fault for everything, and he had nothing to do with it—which he didn't, so thanking him was useless and asinine besides. If she was in the city, it was only a matter of time before something alerted them to each other. Tonight, it was an account of a shoe. He was going to have a nice bruise to show for it in the morning, but that was nothing knew. Aki had seen to that a long time ago.
He did really needed to stop meeting girls that way. It was slowly killing his health.
no subject
Maybe some people would have deemed small-talk trivial at this point, but to him, it was a welcome reprieve from the shock he'd received upon realizing exactly who she was. They had a lot to talk about, but perhaps the best way to handle that would be to ease into it.
"Was he skulking around and looking suspicious? He does that, sometimes."