Description: By the time K' returns home, Issei is already done, reflecting on his experience and what he has learned. Please sir. Spare some change?
Sitting.
Despite the relative length of the procedure, it had regardless taken some time for him to finally leave the home of his latest patient. Unlike so many who encounter the host of personality that is Issei's inner 'self', she seemed rather satisfied with his performance. This was an interesting in a way. It was somewhat mystifying, to tell the truth. Someone who didn't 'truly' know about chi as she did was a fascination of his to meet.
His mind flicking to the darkest reaches on his intellect momentarily, he looks down. it was truthful, in some ways, he supposes as he folds his hands in his lap. He did not need for her suffering in any particular way. So healing her wounds was only a natural satisfaction for him.
Rogue Physician Issei Miura sits just inside the same apartment building where he treated that innocent patient, kneeling in a distinctly asian style penance fashion just beside the door of some random unoccupied apartment, whose door is left slightly ajar. Most who walk by are given the impression that it is simply /his/ apartment, as he is engaging in some daily ritual of prayer or another.
But his eyes are darkened by the shadow falling from the bill of the paramedic's cross emblazoned cap at his brow. Every fold and wrinkle of his suit is in perfect alignment. He's had some time to think, you see.
He. Is waiting.
There is something to be said for patience. And presently, that of 'Issei Miura' is rewarded. One moment, the paramedic is alone, left to his own thoughts... and the next, a shadow crosses him, flitting past moments ahead of its owner. K' passes by in near-complete silence, shockingly soundless despite his height and attire: long-legged strides carrying him towards the stairs. Head down, shoulders sloped, eyes fixed forwards through his lashes, the young man does not seem prepared to stop for -anything-.
He had not intended to stay out this late, but he had been... diverted. He'd run into something-- somebody-- from straight out of the past. That, compounded with what was already troubling him-- his continued delay in deciding what to do about Alma, his general avoidance of the YFCC, his recent encounter with Kula-- had delayed his return home. He did not want to see anyone or speak to anyone-- not even his sister-- until he had had an opportunity to think. Much as he hated having to give things thought.
He doesn't give 'Issei' a second glance as he ghosts by. But Issei might give -him- one.
"Stray dog on the street," the physician speaks up when the long trouble man walks past. "Stray dog on the street, enjoying another master's meat. But he doesn't know, does he.." he speaks. The words are not really offensive in any way, but clearly are spoken to K' and triggered by his passage, and his passage alone. "...Someone living on borrowed time is not living at all...."
It's not really the sort of banter someone like K' would spend more than a few moments contemplating before perhaps grousing about insane people and leaving. To imagine being insulted might affect Issei in the slightest would also be a laughable conclusion to make. Unfortunately, that would be the story of it right there.
However.
"Are you a real person? Or are you just made up... Kay Dash?" he murmurs quietly. HE has to speak much of the former loudly to be heard, or in truth, paid attention to at all. This last though.. it is just far enough to carry.
Acta est non fabula.
Were K' paying attention, were he listening with his usual paranoia, he would easily have seen the oblique references to him in those seemingly-insane words. But as it is, he barely even registered Issei's presence: much less paid attention to what the man was saying. It's the final sentence which finally enters his consciousness, and it's the final sentence upon which he acts.
There is no stop, no break, between the point at which K' is still loping towards the stairs... and the point when he's violently whirled right around in something virtually a lunge: coming to stand directly over Issei in a rush of heat and the scent of smoke. Suspicion and threat pack densely into all the space stacked between K' and Issei's eyes, the runaway experiment virtually looming like an aggravated cobra.
To his credit, he stops short of shutting his fist in the other young man's shirtfront and slamming him against the wall. But from all the tension wound through his mantling form, it's obvious that the temptation to do so did cross his mind. He might be less insecure about the particular point brought up... but that doesn't mean it's not still a sore spot.
"If you have a point," he eventually replies, his voice low and-- for the time being-- deathly level, "make it before my generous mood runs out..."
Issei doesn't move an inch.
When the beast launches himself like a rocket against him, Miura doesn't make any overt response, no move to evade, ro leap away, not even a stray glance is given towards the black leathered figment as he leaps. The movement of that man is so quick, so precise in the snap reaction, that the wair shifting about K' is enough to riffle the edges of Issei's collar.
The rogue's head doesn't even lift in response.
His skull still bowed as if he held himself prostrate, the young man's face is quite unlike the one he shows as a matter of personality. There is no roguish smile there. In fact, there is no expression at all, vague rudiments of his behavior delivered only in a rough accent, just shy of country--Osaka, perhaps--but the words, the /tone/.. is dark.
"Nya..." he vocalizes lightly, "I don't think I stuttered."
He looks up, his hands still in his lap, squinted eyes and lean face tilting upwards to look at K'. The face, the annoyed creature might realize, is somewhat familiar, but hard to place. Everything is too /long/-- his sterile expression characterized by a long thin line of lips, his eyes only vaguely visible--how is it he can see like that?
"Do you think living on as you are is something you can continue to do without a consequence?"
In thin silence, K' meets Issei's eyes when the latter finally lifts his gaze. Something about the other's face is familiar, but damned if he can place it. He is careful to let none of that momentary wonderment over the sudden stab of deja vu show on his face; to mask his thoughts and reactions behind a cold regard. As freezing as the ice of his antitype... a sensation, perhaps, with which this young man is quite familiar...
As for that final question? K' makes no reply. He is not stupid; he is aware of the dangerous implications couched in those oblique words. The word that stands out in particular is 'consequence,' leading him to think this man is here for some task: or that he bears some desire for retribution. An assassin sent to kill him? Someone with a grudge? K' doesn't know, and he doesn't have the tolerance left in him to endure guessing games. Moreover, he's used enough to this kind of thing that he's not even as rattled as he could be.
"Maybe you didn't understand the first time." With a dismissive sound, K' leans back, turning shoulder, threatening to -leave-. "I don't have the patience to humor worthless filler questions. So if you're here to do something..." K' is already walking away, back presented, almost mocking in his utter disregard, "then do it."
Issei says nothing.
The rogue physician sits there by the apartment door--number 207--as if he'd never encountered K' at all, as if he'd never said those words. Perhaps it is a version of coping. Is he concerned with K'? Impressed by his will? Stricken in any way? That isn't really a thing that one could tell looking at his face, even as it slowly recedes beneath the darkness of his own self-imposed exiles, his head dropping once again with the kind of agonizingly slow deliberation of premeditation. If one had to venture some guess, it would seem he is unsurprised, though by nature nothing really appears to surprise him.
Regardless, he makes no attempt to stop K' when he displays his back to him clearly. He makes no move of agression, there is no assassination, though such open disregard against some may have been the last mistake K' would ever make. It seems he has this physician figured correctly. Do no harm, indeed.
When K' challenges him to do something, Issei smiles faintly.
The last mistake? Perhaps... if K' were truly as oblivious as he appears. He appears to bear a complete disregard for Issei, that insulting turn of his back suggesting he's not paying the physician any mind, but in reality his attention has never been sharper than it is in this moment. For him, turning his back is not a relaxation of his guard in the slightest. It's an invitation, almost a feint, in that it draws out an attack to which he can respond.
But no attack comes. Were he a lesser man, K' might have faltered at the lack of expected action. But he's not, and his step remains unbroken as he disappears up the stairs.
He circles briefly on the landing just above, soundless in his restless pacing, watching Issei from his hidden vantage point. He regards him in silence with hawklike yellow eyes, considering what little was said. He's debating what to do, wondering what this could be about, and his paranoid mind is coming up with all kinds of material. Ultimately, his first priority-- as always-- comes circling right back to land squarely on his sister. Could it be that man has already completed whatever task he had, and now lingers solely to taunt him?
K' vanishes down the hall instantly, steps urgent. He's hoping that whatever was threatened has not already been -done-...
Log created on 21:54:22 07/14/2008 by Seishirou, and last modified on 21:50:12 08/02/2008.