Description: It's the final straw. Howard Rust is sure he knows who broke into his apartment and stole something important and worrying unto itself. His prime suspect, the oddly carefree assassin Cammy, wishes to see him concerning something else entirely... and he decides to throw down the gauntlet on someone who is, despite his reasons, completely innocent. Meanwhile, a wandering monk, Denji Akiyama, is off looking for food and occupying his mind with the name of the one he so loves... and may, accidentally, find a key to what he's looking for in something that appears completely unrelated on the surface... but as this goes on, true darkness lurks behind their backs.
It's an early morning at Pacific High, which is to say the day's just beginning. The various faculty members are just coming in, getting ready to do the day's work... or, more likely, sitting down having expensive tea and coffee and muttering about subjects ultimately irrelevant to the fighting world.
Howard Rust, shop teacher and now groundskeeper, has his day starting earlier. He's visibly on edge, and extremely tense after someone broke into his apartment and stole something. Given what this 'something' is... he thinks, given certain circumstances, he knows who's responsible... and what might be coming.
He can't just abandon his job to go and ask around town, especially when paid leave days are at a premium. He's still sore from some Kyokugen lessons yesterday, but nonetheless soldiers on. His only companion alongside the tools for getting the front lawn looking nice and neat, an old style barbecue grill that he occasionally checks on to flip some patties.
He's in a foul enough mood he's willing to have burger patties instead of anything remotely resembling a proper or healthy breakfast, as the morning sun makes coy peeks from an overcast sky on a breezy morning.
From the front gates, lacking something like a coat he ought to put on with today's weather, he waits. It's only a matter of time until the person /he/ believes should be providing answers appears.
There's only two people for whom Cammy would visit Southtown for at the moment, after that assassination dealio a couple of weeks ago - One evil, one more scared than evil. She thought people wouldn't care too much about that assassination - after all, it was a failure. But the encounter with Fio at the Pao Pao disabused her of that notion.
Nevertheless, she's here now, in her red cloak and all. With a somewhat heavy heart, she trudges up the path towards the school. She knows Rust doesn't like it when she visits her in his home, but she knows his movements pretty well, and she's seem him as groundskeeper at the school plenty of times.
Target in sight, she pauses a good twenty yards from Rust - he seems quite pissed off. And she's not even said anything yet. And she's purposefully avoided talking to him in the comfort of his own home, too. She sighs, doesn't seem to matter how much of an effort she makes, people just don't seem to like her, or are scared of her, or some other non-friendship type relationship is going on. "Good morning, Mr Rust." she offers, valiantly persevering and offering him her best smile.
Denji Akiyama is ill at ease.
The blithe young man manages to live a life of ambiguity and uncertainty without a care in the world, the events of his life as disconnected as the trivia facts he loves and subsists on, his attitude not substantially more mature than the children he plays with. It's rare that he feels genuinely troubled, and even rarer that it's not because someone has caught him in the middle of some morally questionable activity that at the time had seemed justified (e.g., taking Wang's lunch, justified because he is hungry). But while Denji has little trouble interacting with the world around him on a consistently superficial level, charmingly earnest but fundamentally insensitive, he is not a completely shallow person. He may not have urgent existential issues. He may be good enough at dodging serious challenges to live this way for a long time.
But no one likes being alone.
No one -- especially her.
The mountain boy almost minces into the outer courtyard that serves as Pacific High's school grounds, his attempt to avoid appearing sketchy making him pretty much maximally dubious. His purple robe is clean, at least, and his shaggy hair is tied back, though stray bangs fall about his eyes. He's half-uncertain because the last time he snuck onto school grounds, he got beat up and didn't get to eat his pie. He's other-half-uncertain because he has a sinking feeling this /isn't/ actually Farah's school.
But though his edgy expression is more comical and threatening as he slinks his away along the side of the courtyard, freezing when he sees Cammy emerge on the scene and his gaze only then gravitating toward Rust, the more profound worry in his eyes has nothing to do with his present uncertainty. Denji's been in plenty of sticky situations, all of his own making. It has no relation to his suddenly troubled heart.
~ Farah-chan... ~
Denji is ill at ease because, for once, he is thinking of someone else.
Where is she? Where did she go, after he... mysteriously blacked out?
Hmm... that smells like... barbeque...
Ugh! No, Denji, focus!
For such a pleasant voice, the man is remarkably on edge. Cammy reads the man well, with a palpable tension not just from being one or two hours short of a complete night's rest - but one of a man who has already gotten to work this early in the morning... and has plenty more to go today.
"Hey," he offers back somewhat passively as he looks up from the grill. Didn't yet even have a chance to sit down and eat one of them, oh well. He clears his throat very loudly, rolling one of his shoulders to get out one of the kinks. He lifted something pretty heavy improperly not long ago, his back is about killing him.
"I'm, I'm not gonna mince words here, Cammy." He starts as he thinks to flip the burgers before leaving them be. Chances are they're going to be charred after all's said and done. "I'm pretty sure... pretty sure one of your friends just broke into my apartment 'n took something."
He closes the barbecue top as he approaches, slowly closing that twenty yard gap. "'n I just wanna tell you, if your terrorist friends are thinkin' of using it to intimidate my friends, students, and, and me," he shakes his head, "I'm done playing these games." Notice the absence of the term 'co-workers.' His right hand instinctively reaches for his left hip - a place where Ol' Rusty would normally be had he not chosen to forego it. His pipe, it's in the past now, right? He grunts at this muscle memory.
"Am I clear?" He looks up. "I'm done."
His back is turned to the barbecue. If Denji is of the mind, he could steal the patties clean and sipe some of the hamburger buns and fixings laid out nearby.
Cammy does glance over at Denji - a guy in a purple cloak mincing around is certainly a little bit unusual, even for Southtown - but she doesn't actually know him, so doesn't pay him too much heed. Especially as he seems more focused on stealing Rust's food while his back is turned.
No, her focus is all on Rust really. She slowly blinks, and shakes her head. "I have not heard of any such event, if that makes you feel any better.", the Doll replies, a little distantly. Really, of all the things he could blame her for - she was on the news a little while ago after all, and Quon was very upset the last time she saw him - he chooses something she herself at least had nothing to do with, indeed never even heard of, until just now. "What was taken?" she asks, her curious side coming out despite the situation. It /is/ her main job, after all. Being curious. "I am here to talk to you, but, not primarily about that. But...". She shrugs thin shoulders beneath that all encompassing cloak, giving Rust a somewhat jaundiced, world weary stare that really shouldn't belong on a face as young and, well... /cute/... as hers. She was going to ask Rust for some help. It really doesn't look like that is likely to be forthcoming.
It's kind of impressive.
"Mmph... hrmph... hey, Cammy-chan."
Not that Denji, though about as unassassinlike as a person can get, has somehow during the course of their conversation stealthed his way over to the barbeque, or that he is stuffing his face and talking at the same time, or that he is referring to the red-cloaked girl in a shamelessly informal manner despite clearly having picked up her name that very moment from a man that Denji already respects for clearly refusing on principle to get a good haircut. It's impressive that Denji, otherwise so obviously insensitive to decorum and unempathetic toward the needs of others in casual social situations--
"Know where Farah-chan is today?"
--is so sensitive to subtle fluctuations in the energy about him.
Denji Akiyama is an apprentice chi sage, an inheritor of an ancient tradition. His skills are budding but promising, and at this rate may flourish. And though his knowledge is exceedingly limited, his potential for careful manipulation of the earth's ley lines of energy is yet untested and untapped. He can sense the flows of energy abuot him, if only intuitively, instinctively. He tends to react before he thinks. He doesn't know exactly what any of it means.
"I'm just guessing," he admits casually, before somehow inserting another patty between his lips, "but it's really important that I find her. I thought you might know." And then, "You're different, like her."
Chi doesn't pass through them like it normally does.
That's all he knows.
It might be enough.
"No, no, it doesn't," he speaks up to her cheerful and completely honest denial, shaking an accusatory finger at her as he draws ever closer. Not even the creaking in his knees slows him down. The part where he allowed himself to be a practice dummy for some young white belts over at the dojo? Not so much a problem (except for the one that went for the crotch, that was bad).
"I, I don't care what you're gibbering about," he tries to interrupt Cammy when she talks about being here to talk to him, "and, and if that's not a slip of a tongue, shit, I dunno what is!" 'Not primarily about that' his ass, she knows, he believes. The same one who jokingly mentioned being able to look up his bank account. The look she gives him doesn't slow him down any more.
"I know it wasn't just some, some two-bit cat burglar, Cammy, if it was they would've taken my wallet when I let it on the table, and hell, the plane tickets too," and let's face it they probably deserved to be stolen if the left them in plain sight of any robber, "but no, they took somethin'... somethin' really specific," he speaks as though he expects Cammy to know what he's talking about, convinced in those narrowed eyes that he's talking with someone who is playing dumb.
Just in time for Denji to casually walk up and stop the tense atmosphere with a casual greeting as though he here belonged too, the older man turning his head at the unfamiliar voice - and foolishly removing his eyes from Cammy.
"Uhh, hey, listen, uh," he's not sure how to explain this to a passerby, albeit one that seems familiar with this young lady. There is this odd otherworldly air around him, albeit... well, he doesn't look the type to be a troublemak--
Wait did he just eat some of the food?
"I can't turn my back one second!" He complains out loud, slumping his shoulders while he slaps his forehead with his left hand. This early in the day and it's already gone completely to crap.
The name Farah, though, he knows he's heard that somewhere, who was it, who was it... he frowns at the collected frustration of dealing with who he supposes is someone playing dumb with him alongside an uninvited guest to his own one-man barbecue as he tries to think of where he's heard that name. Something about it being important?
What's this about being 'different' like her?
It seems like Cammy and Denji have a fair bit in common after all, perhaps. Rust knows all about how obviously insensitive to decorum the Doll is. Though she is learning - not necessarily because she really cares about how breaking into homes is wrong, but because she wants Rust 'on side', and because she's prepared to make the effort for that noble goal.
"I do not know who Farah-chan is." she tells Denji. "Which means I neither know where she is, nor if she is different like me, or not. Though in my experience, everybody is different. Even those who should not be so.". She nods, confident. She knows her fellow dolls well.
"Mr Rust, I am honored by your praise in assuming that I am somehow uniquely capable of doing this to you, and above a 'two bit cat burglar', but if I had done anything to you, why would I lie to you about it?" she asks, attempting to apply Doll-logic to the situation. "But, if you are so sure that I have had something to do with it, you could at least tell me what it is that you are on about." she goes on smoothly. "Maybe I could help you, even.".
And then, that is an interesting question. She stares at Denji. Different?
It's not enough.
"Uh..."
Denji's eyes cross slightly as he stares at Cammy.
"O... Okay..."
His lips move as he tries to process what she just said.
"Right," he manages, more wrongfooted by her straight-forward logic than Rust confronting him on the two hamburgers he is currently double-fisting, distracted enough to have not already stuffed them in his face. "But you're, uh, you're different in a... a different way." You can do this, Denji, keep it together. For Farah's sake. He clears his throat, and attempts Buddhist Logic.
Too bad he's only, like, half-Buddhist.
"Like, all three of us are different, right?" He points a hamburger at Rust and Cammy. Where is this conversation going all of a sudden? "But this guy and I are both boys, and you're a girl. You can say we're all different, but if you're looking to, say, split us into boys and girls, like for, uh, for sports teams, you have to... to find our common ground." He pauses, and takes a bite of one of his hamburgers. "Ballsh," he adds helpfully, before taking a bite of the other hamburger, just in case anyone wanted some.
"Point is, you and Farah have b-- you both have something in common. It's not just that you're both girls. It's, uh..." He gestures vaguely with a half-eaten burger. "It's like a chi thing. Chi's not right. I'm sorry, I haven't read enough about this to put it in clear terms." /Now/ he looks embarrassed. "You're fundamentally different, is what I'm saying. Are you sure you don't know her? It feels pretty similar."
It hasn't yet occurred to him that there might be some similarity in being able to beat the crap out of him. He's mostly focused on the food. Speaking of which.
"Hey," then remarks, turning to the seemingly overwhelmed Rust, "you wouldn't happen to have any horseradish for these, would you?"
"Hey, hey," the older man tries to get Cammy's attention as she addresses Denji - she's the centerpiece of suspicion here! "Why would you /lie/ about it?" The man with the bad combover looks up, livid, "I just told you, I'm, I'm done playing these games, all right?" An irrational irritation illustrates his ire. "Look, it's, it's all over the news, buncha people going out 'n doing weird things. Crimes, disappearances... how the hell am I supposed to know you aren't some kind of, some kind of advance scout, huh? Scoping out, scoping out soft targets..."
He's interrupted when Denji goes on about how all three of them are different. Christ, he thinks to himself, what is this guy on about? He tries to reach out a hand to one of the burgers as if to say 'give me that, that's mine' as Denji points it at him, missing the grab when Denji pauses to take a bite out of it. It's comical.
"Chi thing, what... chi... thing," wait, is this the sort of thing Zach talked about? He's still kind of skeptical about it, though, Farah. Farah, Farah, Farah. Crud, where was it?
He palms his forehead again. Great. Just, just great. "No, I... I didn't bring any for, for my burgers," he stresses the 'my' fairly harshly.
"You wanna help me, Cammy?" He addresses her a little belatedly as he lowers his arms and takes a deep breath. "You tell your friends, you tell your little terrorist cell... you gimme back that address book, leave alone my friends, leave their friends alone... leave /Quon/ alone, and leave me alone," he points an accusatory finger, the intensity fighting against the tiredness and dryness in his throat, "I said it already, I'm... I'm done with you playin' the part of some, some lovestruck little girl."
Cammy blinks at Denji, and tilts her head. "I see. I will have to meet Farah one day, I think.". Unbeknownst to her, Lord Vega already has that one covered. But she can't ponder Denji's words for long, as Rust is practically shouting at her.
"I am not playing games. I do not understand why...". A pause as the outpourings from Rust continues, and she shakes her head again, eyes all liquid. He thinks she's been leading Quon along all this time? That hurts.
The Doll may be known for her calmness but this is really too much. "Why do you think he's /your/ friend all of a sudden, and that this somehow trumps me?" she asks. "I have spent a lot fo time with him you know. More than you, I think. I have tried so hard...". Ugh, she's almost crying. She reaches up to rub at her eyes with one hand, stomach knotting. Not only does she feel horrible, but this will do her reputation no good, no good /at all/. If Lord Vega finds out his Killer Bee has been acting like this she'll be off to the tanks again, most likely.
"I came here for your advice to help me with Quon!" she tells Rust, voice an octave higher than normal, the Doll visibly upset. "I see that I was wrong about you. I know you never liked me, though I never really knew why... but I thought I would try anyway. But you are just... suspicious. Very hateful. Lord Vega will want to know, I am sure. You are jealous of Quon, maybe. That must be it, yes. Because I really like him, and your friend, she left you. I read about this.". She dimly remembers Rust's file, which she read a long time ago when first looking for Quon, and in her emotional state, she's perhaps talking a little too much. "I am not going to leave him just because /you/ say so." she tells him forcefully.
Whoa! Whoa! We're getting off-track here. Denji furrows his brow as his gaze darts from man to girl, silenced primarily by the two burgers stuffed fully into his mouth but secondarily by the abrupt intensity of this conversation. This is supposed to be about Farah-chan. What is with these two being so selfish?
"Hey!" he finally manages, attempting to cut in after Cammy finishes her own retort -- which coincidentally happens to be when the mountain boy finishes chewing -- if there's any way he can stem the rising tide of their stress and frustration. "Listen! Let's not talk about Quon! That guy is kind of a douchebag!" It's a bit of a surprise that Denji even remembers that guy's name. In fact, he lives in fear of meeting him again ever since Farah mentioned attempting to recruit him; that's really the only reason he's retained it. Preventing Denji from stealing from the school cafeteria -- what a square. "Let's talk about Farah instead." First of all, she's hot. Second of all--
"Because I-- did-- did you just say 'Lord Vega'?"
It's true that Farah has had the opportunity to actually tell Denji what happened to her. It's also true that there aren't a hell of a lot of people who don't know that name as the head of a very important international terrorist organization and also people keep throwing around the world 'terrorist' and look Denji may be a little bit of a slob but he's not a complete i--
"Y... You guys... you're all, like..."
--eventually he'll figure it out--
"...like psychics, right... that's what..."
--okay, he's sort of piecing it together--
"...what feels so different... so I..."
He's mumbling now, most likely while other people are talking over again, and eventually he unleashes his thoughts like a dam bursting, the sketchy young man suddenly straightening, his eyes wide. "Y-You! D-Do you... do you guys have anything to do with what happened to Farah!?"
It's a pretty impressive leap of logic, but the rush soon fades.
"Oh... uh... are you... are you crying?"
The older man is seeing Cammy's tears, her frustration roughly on the same level as his indignation. He's had his fair share of having to deal with internal politics between crazy-ass paramilitary groups during that invasion and a part of him really does not want to be in the center of a new one - something he is suspecting is going on given the precise nature of what was stolen. He's waiting to hear the excuses, waiting to hear the alibis, waiting to stab a hole through each one through his understanding of what's gone on. She's broken into his apartment before, she casually mentioned being able to look up his bank account, how the hell is this beneath her? Innocent as she is in this particular scenario, he can't wrap his head around it.
His blood all but freezes up when she drops the name of Lord Vega so casually. Thailand incident Vega, one of the greatest threats to humanity today with power unimaginably far more advanced than most mortal men - if he even is a man anymore. That little threat to tattle and bring down the thunder upon him sees him visually seize up. Denji might pick up on it - that's just how the forces of nature communicate themselves through him. His body goes stiff, something like a statue. His left fist is clenched subconsciously.
He's livid again at mention about her /reading/ about something. What, did his ex gush all about it on her Facebook or some such? Seriously, he growls to himself. "Jealous of Quon? What in the... no, no, no." He shakes his head and spreads his hands out wide a couple times. The amount of pops from joints, parts of his body that refuse to move after his tensing is loud and rather distinctive. "No. Don't use Quon as... as, as a goddamn shiel--"
Denji goes on to decry Quon's demeanor, which earns him a glare. "Yeah, he's... he's young and he's done things I think he, he shouldn't have done, but... Jesus Christ!"
Farah this, Farah that, can't this boy realize he's in the middle of a tense discussion with the (not so) guilty party of the latest big stress on his life? When Denji mentions a 'Lord Vega,' the older man just nods, yeeeeah, she did say his name, and he wants to say 'don't get involved' when Denji stammers his conjecture about psychics and Farah and... huh, maybe there is something to what Zach said.
But they can't be REAL psychics if they won't tell him the winning lottery number, right?
"Look, just... okay." The man throws a hand up in Denji's direction, hoping to head off further interruption at the pass. "Farah, uh... y'know, I think I, uh... young lady, middle eastern descent?" He's trying to get the details together in his head from when he met her in the park. "Last name startin' with, uh... uh, a T? Blue... ribbon thing."
He's not sure if he should be talking about this in front of Vega's little info mole though, but he shows no sign of regret or apology for bringing her to near tears.
"Quon is not a douchebag! I do not care about Farah! I do not even know Farah! SHUT UP ABOUT FARAH!!!". What is this? Cammy comes here with entirely innocent, even noble, motives, and everybody is harshing on her. And this guy, who she doesn't even know, is even harshing on Quon. "And no. I am not crying." she announces, voice suddenly back to normal, as if a switch has been flipped inside her. She doesn't deny the bit about being psychic, though. :p
She takes a deep breath or two, and hurriedly wipes away any evidence that may or may not be on her cheeks that may cause future embarassment if caught on the film of some Shadaloo spycam. She assumes a look of wounded dignity, with the accent on dignity after her outbursts. "I am leaving now." she announces. "As clearly my goals will not be served by lingering here. I will give you time to reconsider your position, when you realise that your stupid suspicious mind is wrong, again. And when you do not cheapen my friendships anymore. I will talk to Quon about you. Ugh.". Now she needs advice about the guy she was about to ask advice about from the guy she needed advice in how to deal with. It's enough to make a dolls head spin.
It is with considerable self discipline that she slowly backs away. An upset Cammy hates everything, after all.
"Yeah, that's the one!"
Denji is grinning delightedly at Rust, by all appearances having /completely/ failed to notice the fact that Cammy is literally /screaming/ at him from a couple feet away. "Do you know her? Is she doing alright? She went through something bad recently, and I, uh, well, I," this is tough to admit considering how long he's been self-consciously 'hiding' it from his friends, "I guess I don't know what it was, really, but it seems serious. Like someone messed with her head. She, you know, takes stuff really seriously, and I guess I... I guess I... don't really know what..."
Denji actually looks distraught.
But, no, he's not going to get his chance to display his profound sensitivity toward others, because /other/ people have these /other/ problems that they just need to keep talking about. Sheesh! "Hey!" He's looking back toward Cammy. Abruptly -- he would say 'dynamically' -- he has shifted from dwelling upon his own heretofore unrecognized inner turmoil to the Doll's subtle attempt to escape. "Cammy-chan! That was your name, right," he mumbles, before summoning again his unpracticed righteous tone. "Look! You know some 'Lord Vega', /and/ you're pals with Quon, who is totally a tool," he adds, with Wang-like unjustified resentment. "You're up to something, even if you claim not to know Farah-chan. Something's up these days. Why's this guy mad at you?"
Man, if only there were any way he could have found out what their conversation was about.
The intensity of Cammy's raised voice is enough to even give a man with a bit of hearing loss some pause - but this is the same one who dares to invoke the name of one of the most hated and feared men casually as if punishment for being one to stand their ground on, admittedly, grounds that aren't actually true.
Not that this man is actually aware of any alternative, given past events leading up to this morning.
"Just... just go!" He motions to shoo with both arms, relieving the last of his stiffness with another series of creaks. He doesn't want much more to do with Cammy /either/, and her conditions when this man is absolutely convinced she is up to some very bad things involving that address book she had no hand in stealing.
Cripes, he shakes his head again as he goes to face Denji. "I... I only met her the once, in the park, sorry, I... I wouldn't know anything 'bout it, but... between you 'n me, it seems like... I dunno, it seems like these days every... every first name is used only once, every time someone talks about... this person, that person, turns out to be /that/ person by /that/ name," he waxes on about nothing at another bizarre frustration of his. How he seems to always keep finding the right person at the right time, somehow. It's uncanny. He's sure there's many Ibukis and many Farahs and such, what are the odds that the very first time his knowledge about a certain person is challenged, it is indeed that person?
He goes to put a hand on his shoulder when Denji tries to call her out. "Just... just let her go. She ain't going to, going to cop to shit." This hand - his right hand - is not going to be terribly firm on Denji's shoulder if he lets him, but the motions in that hand suggest he'd be tensing down on it with a vice grip if he could. "And... and let's not forget you're eating my, my /breakfast/."
Cammy hmphs at Denji. "Quon is not a tool." she insists. "I do not care about Farah. I do not know Farah." she repeats. "He is mad at me because he is an idiot, and he likes accusing people who were once almost his friends" - well, thats a bit of an exaggeration - "all manner of untrue accusations. You are very annoying. You two clearly deserve each others company right now.".
Doll logic is quite impeccable today. Cammy turns on one heel and stalks off, bristling. On the one hand, as no fists met faces, perhaps this situation can be patched up at a future date. On the other hand, Lord Vega might not be happy with his assassin snivelling pathetically. But! Address book? That tidbit of info will go up the chain of command, for sure.
Denji would definitely, probably, maybe go after her. He's already begun to doubt himself, as he often begins to about five seconds after coming to one of his outrageous and spontaneous conclusions. Ironically, of course, this is the most accurate guess he's had since he came down from the mountain, but alas, it will never be verified. Part of this is because he'd never be able to pry Cammy's lips open; part of this is because Cammy is in the middle of abandoning them in a huff. And part of it is because--
Denji swallows.
--there's a somewhat meaty hand on his shoulder.
Mmm... meaty. Even in the midst of his precarious situation, the pseudo-monk scans the grill for a new grilled patty. Damn, there aren't any left. Too bad, those were delicious.
There-- aren't any left.
"Uhh..."
Whoops.
"I don't see any breakfast," he says awkwardly, his eyes darting back and forth in possibly the least innocent expression anyone could manage. He points, with the hand that had held Rust's last burger, at the grill. "There's no breakfast there."
Belatedly, it occurs to him this might be a terrible defense.
"Anyway, burgers aren't breakfast food."
Great. Run with it, Denji.
"Not healthy, you know?" He adopts a more conversational tone, the robed young man tilting his head to glance up through his shaggy bangs at the teacher. "You've got to start the day light. Fresh. Like-- yoghurt."
Brilliant.
"Because you just, you just ate it!!" The man bellows, lifting up his hand - great, now it's almost like talking to /two/ Cammies. He buries his head in his left hand as he walks in some largely irrelevant direction, as if the only way to express his displeasure at this point was to in fact walk at all.
"Yeah, yeah, don't... don't talk nutrition at me, it's just... it's my comfort food, okay? God damn, what a day." He's not looking forward to going through today without breakfast, already having to toss back half the projects of his classes at their faces about what they're doing wrong.
"I didn't just," he mumbles to himself, "I didn't just... let that girl go to tattle to Vega of that, that Thailand thing. I really... didn't... just do that."
Who knows what evil they'll do with his address book that they don't actually have, while the real culprit miles away skims through it for some very specific names as a lead for equally nefarious and entirely worrying reasons.
"Okay... look, I, I dunno who you are, all right," the teacher turns around eventually, clearing his throat in order to work out what the sheer stress is doing to his voice but does nothing to clear away the worry, "there's... there's weird things goin' down, I hear, and... and really, I need to make some calls before, before the kids come in to class. All the people I've met here, they're, they're in danger now."
He pauses to think about how, exactly, he's going to go about his busy day knowing virtually all the contacts he's made over the last few years are bound to be victimized by the whims of Shadaloo. It's a worrying thing when you are largely an ordinary guy with an ordinary day life getting stuck being a plaything for greater organizational powers.
"Ahh... if, if you said, I didn't catch it, who are you?"
Denji does what Denji-- doesn't do best.
"Um..."
He listens.
"A... Are you alright, Griller-chan?"
Rust's words are regarded with a sort of concerned bemusement. Denji is not by nature a particularly righteous person, in case you were, like, wondering, but he is currently caught up in a certain-- aesthetic. An aesthetic perpetuated by a certain love interest and a very demanding coach.
"Look, if people are in danger, I'm here to help."
The dubious young monk smiles blithely as he jerks a thumb toward himself.
"Denji Akiyama," he says stoutly, bravely -- and against his own better judgment -- using his real name, which he will not admit he was not initially planning on doing. "Student of the legendary Sakura Kasugano! I'm a chief member of Team New Generation. I'm competing in King of Fighters! There's nothing I can't do." He says this very casually, and definitely unironically. "I don't know if this has anything to do with Farah-chan's troubles, but if you're beset with unfortunate circumstances, please allow my friends and I to help. We're great with this sort of thing."
SOME TIME AGO
The sound of wild yipping and growling emerges from an alley, followed by a loud crash as Makari, leaping from the roof above, misses his target, followed by the sound of Sakura shouting angrily, followed by the sound of someone who is /probably/ Wang beginning to cry. A small dog flees from the darkness.
The reward is not collected.
NOW
"Well, we might be."
If he keeps talking, Rust might forget about the burgers.
You're a cunning one, Denji, yes you are.
"Rust." He corrects the name bit. "'s Howard Rust, I teach shop here in school, and, uh... keep the grass cut, the sprinklers runnin', the boiler functioning... stuff like that." Maybe he really should suck it up and say 'indentured servant' and be done with it, it's not like he isn't already beginning to be bore down upon by his superiors over the issue of the average grade in his classroom... on a subject not usually the focus of the Pacific curriculum.
Being a teacher holds you to great standards, and your employers/the government loves to find new ways to make your life ever more difficult by the day.
"Denji, huh," the tone of voice sounds largely enthusiastic as he brings a hand to his chin, okay, he knows he's heard-- his eyes widen as he looks up to Denji again. With the surname too, there's no ambiguity as to who he's talking to.
/He's the one she was looking for./
This realization almost blots out almost everything else the man says as he points a finger at him, shaking it as the words just kind of shake on his tongue. "When I met her! Farah. Farah. It was, it was at the park, she mentioned lookin' for you... shit! I forget if she had anything for me to say to you... but, but... ah, dammit, if I thought I'd keep just... running into people others're talkin' 'bout, I'd take better messages."
How does he keep finding these people anyway?!
"Aaaanyway," he clears his throat again as he straightens out, "since ya ate my /breakfast/, uh," he struggles to think of a good terms for this exchange - it won't be long before he has to go in and teach his class, he hasn't eaten, and he's stressed out knowing entirely of the possibilities that lengths Cammy or her associates might go to put the hurt on him, unaware of the true identity of the address book thief or even their aims with that information. His eyes drift towards a large clock, damn, not much time to stand around here, they might yell at him for not finishing up a part of the lawn.
Being a man with a demanding job that carries through most of the week (and sometimes well into the weekend) along with a quickly dwindling number of paid leave days is not a good position to be in.
He looks back up to re-establish eye contact at last. "I'm just, I'm just gonna go make some calls. I dunno, maybe Farah goes to that park regularly, maybe not, but, there's just... there's just bad things goin' down everywhere."
He conveniently forgets to name a favor for having eaten his breakfast, the stress and worry far too much to juggle atop everything else he needs to get done today. His superiors absolutely would not accept 'stress over shadowy elements of the world attempting to ruin a friend's life' regardless of being present for the Southtown invasion.
Denji is a man who cuts to the chase.
"FARAH'S AT THE PARK!?"
Okay, no, no he is not a man who actually cuts to the chase. Denji is a man who constantly has a thousand details fluttering about his head and has a strange ability to retain them, and rarely evinces that ability because he is too often fixating on the only one that strikes him as relevant. That he regards everything has fundamentally an equally-important aesthetic experience /except/ under specific circumstances makes that no easier. He knows, as neutral facts, that hamburgers are delicious and that you shouldn't take other people's food, but under the circumstances that he is so very hungry, only the first fact seems to take on meaning.
It all makes sense, when you look at that way.
But, then again, maybe having Denji make sense is a little too flattering to him. "Wh, why didn't you tell me!" he exclaims, the shaggy-haired would-be sage throwing his hands up in the air. "That would have saved us all a lot of time!" Would it? Would it have, really. "You /should/ be taking messages!" he scolds Rust absent-mindedly, just sort of picking up on whatever the man says. "Be more responsible, Howard-chan."
Casually talking out of his ass, Denji's racing mind freezes as the teacher picks up once again on that niggling fact that yes, yes indeed, Denji did eat all his food. The young man remains carefully still, even his robes not rippling, as though he might fade out of Rust's notice. Mysteriously, the technique seems to be effective, and Denji begins to visibly relax. The man's distracted mind strays from the topic, as the troubled Rust preoccupies himself with what little he can do to stem the tide of the rising darkness about them. Darkness that Denji seems to be, at best, tangentially aware of. "You do that, and you take care of yourself, Howard-chan," Denji says, patting the man's arm reassuringly. "I bet you'll feel better if you eat more healthily."
No, wait! Crap! Don't mention food! Crap!
"Wh-What I mean is," he continues hurriedly, "you keep in touch if you ever need New Generation's support. When you are beset from all sides, never fear! Sakura-chan-sensei and her crew will be here to help you in your struggles against--" He pauses, brow furrowing.
"We're not going to have to fight that Vega fellow, are we?"
"Uh, was, it was some, uh, like a mon--" The man's mumbling tone of voice is quickly drowned out by Denji exclaiming his lectures about telling him this, telling him that, shrugging as if to say 'how the hell am I supposed to know it was you she was talking about' and otherwise being at a loss of words with the more immediate issue at hand staring him at the face - dwindling time, and the need to make some very important calls before the bell rings. It's damage control time. A part of him thinks, really, maybe he shouldn't have gone off on a powerful girl with even more powerful friends above and beyond his head.
But damn, he's about had it with that charade.
He's already getting out an impossibly small cellphone that seems nearly impossible for his big fingers to ever be able to manipulate with any degree of accuracy whatsoever - and it shows, with how he has to delicately aim a finger to ensure he pushes just /a/ button and not like three at once.
When the arm is patted, he does bat the arm away - not out of aggression, more along the lines of 'don't startle me or I have to re-do this friggin' button combo over.' "Yeah, uh, thanks, I... just, ugh, this is gonna be a mess."
Not that Denji actually helped matters any, the man grumbles quietly to himself, looking up as Denji hurriedly pledges the support of Team New Generation or what have you. He does recall Sakura from some time back, during a talent show thing... the food was pretty good, but now's not the time for happy fuzzy memories! As much as he could go for... food.
"Y-y'know, I... I hope not," he says, sullen as he brings the cellphone to his ear. "listen, just... just go, I dunno if she stops by there often, but... but I gotta make these calls right, right now. Right now." He nods hurriedly, bringing his free hand up to the side of his face and, soon enough, across the combover that has accumulated a whole lot of sweat.
The question is, will it be too late?
"Yeah!!"
Denji Akiyama is pumped. He's made a new friend (?), learned about interesting people and events (??), and most importantly, knows where Farah-chan is (???). The normally scattered young man is centered, more or less, by food in his belly and a mission that, for once, truly means something to him. A cute girl: now that's a fact that's never neutral.
Also, Rust is totally letting him off the hook.
"I'm off," he announces brightly, not displeased in the slightest at being shrugged off. On the contrary, it's definitely time for him to make his escape. "You don't forget my offer, Howard-chan," he says sternly, making sure to play up the hero angle while he can, just in case Farah is watching (to be impressed) or Sakura is watching (to beat him up if he does otherwise). "If you end up in trouble with nefarious forces, we're here for you. Farah-chan and Sakura-chan-sensei are definitely the ones to talk to." Without realizing it, Denji himself appears to be fully, if only subconsciously, aware that he is /not/ in that category. Yet here he is. Talking it up. "We're going to make our explosive debut!"
Odd words from someone with no pretensions to being a magical girl, but Denji's own personal motivations are pretty obscure in all this; in fact, he's not even particularly concerned with them. His concern for Farah, however superficial their actual relationship -- not that he would know -- has formed a kind of moral compass for him, though, however temporary, and he cannot let it go. The very experience of having such an emotional lodestone is a kind of new experience that, unreflectively, he delights in.
He's going to live it up.
"You take care, Howard-chan. Keep grilling those burgers!"
Oh, wait-- crap! Crap!
And then, gathering his volumnous robes about him, Denji is running -- okay, scampering -- as far away from the campus as possible, in the general direction of the park, probably.
Log created on 17:39:14 01/30/2011 by Rust, and last modified on 22:06:48 02/12/2011.