savetheearth | i'm not the same person as yesterday 王 closed

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i'm not the same person as yesterday 王 closed

who: Shuji Kiyokumi (

controlsdesire) and Mort Yokugawa (

talktothedoll)
what: Shuji's been persuaded into therapy and their events coincide
where: Mort's office
when: July 15th, evening.
warnings: Nothing yet.

Shuji had been reluctant to take the advice of his superior. It wasn't that he didn't like taking orders, but he had never seen the point in opening up to someone and talking about his problems. Wasn't that what he had Shou for? If he had to talk to someone, Shou would be his outlet. Not a stranger he didn't know anything about. Not someone he couldn't trust. His life had been built around the presence of strangers who pulled and poked and prodded.

Unfortunately, his superior was persistent. They had noticed his work efforts starting to slip, little by little, ever since he had arrived. His direct superior had informed Shuji that he didn't care whether it was tied to personal issues, culture shock, or something tied to the case, but felt it was best to recommend him to someone regardless of the cause for his sudden shift in attitude. The pain in his chest and the resurging memories were certainly a distraction from work that Shuji tried to ignore, but he could see now that it wasn't going away easily.

Maybe it would be like pulling off a band-aid. Nice and quick. He sincerely doubted that.

Shuji arrived at the office after work, having called a few days before to make the appointment. Nothing had been found in regards to his chest pains when he'd gone to a physical doctor, but the ache was still persisting even now. He rubbed a bit at the center of his chest with the bottom of his hand, standing as he waited. This atmosphere was far too uncomfortable for him to sit down.

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That evening was a quiet one. Mort usually didn't keep the office open quite so late, but it had been the easiest way to work the appointment into the detective's schedule. The doctor didn't mind; he'd done the same thing often enough for other police officers here and there. He'd sent his receptionist home for the evening, and it was just him and his patient. They'd wanted him specifically; the idea was that Shuji would be more comfortable speaking with a doctor who was also fluent in Japanese.

He heard the door to the outer office open, and he flipped through the detective's paperwork on his desk one final time before going out to meet his patient. He seemed friendly enough, certainly, and he wore a warm smile as he opened that door. He spoke Japanese, thinking that would help Shuji feel more at ease. "Ah, Detective Kikoyumi! Please, come in, make yourself comfortable. I'm Dr. Yokugawa. You can call me Mort, if you'd like." He also offered his hand for the other to shake.

The smaller inner office where Mort did his work was fairly neat, and he'd done his best to make it look inviting. The chairs were comfortable. It was a nice night, so he had the blinds open, giving them a view of the night sky.

Shuji had been made aware of who he was going to be paired with before he showed up. At the very least, he could appreciate the effort they'd put into putting him with someone he could relate to as far as language and familiarity of culture, but it would do little to sway him into actually opening up. When the man walked into the room, Shuji turned his attention in the other's direction, looking as though every muscle in his body was tensed up at being in such an unfamiliar place, dealing with such unpleasant things.

He did not put his hand out to grasp Mort's, simply bowing his head in the doctor's direction. He'd been far too on edge for physical contact. Of course, he instantly recognized the other from Network posts, like the first time the man had offered to help people out and had even tried to reach out to him. That part made him a little uncomfortable. "It's nice to meet you, Doctor. Please take care of me." While he didn't mean the words, he knew enough to be polite.

Without waiting for another prompt, Shuji stepped past the other into the office, adjusting the bag strap crossing his chest. He would wait, however, for the doctor to enter the room before he'd sit down. In the meantime, Shuji's attention moved to the green and silver object on the corner of the desk, looking almost identical to the one he was carrying in his bag. He reluctantly reached a hand out, hovering his fingers over it as he examined it, but too cautious to touch.

Mort didn't press the handshake. That was fine; they'd do whatever Shuji was comfortable with. He simply returned that head bow. This seemed as though it was going to be a regular appointment with an patient that was a bit reluctant to open up, and then Shuji spoke. With a bit of surprise, Mort realized he recognized the voice from the network.

Him. Mort's professional demeanor faltered for just a moment with that surprise. Once more, he found that unusual feeling welling up inside him, the feeling that he did not like this man, that this man would ruin everything. It was absurd. Illogical. Mort had never met the guy before, and he certainly had no reason to mistrust him. Then again, the network had always been a little shy where the police were considered...but there were other officers, ones that didn't fill him with such an intense sense of dislike. He almost failed to step aside to let Shuji into his office, but he caught himself just in time.

Mort followed Shuji's gaze and realized what the other was looking at. That made sense. Of course he'd recognize it with that birdlike robot of his. "It's nice to meet you, as well." Mort paused, wondering what he should say next. "I do make an effort to take care of everyone on the network, you know."

There, that was safe enough. If he was mistaken, he'd cover and say it was the police's insurance network, something of that sort. But if this was the same man, he wanted--needed--to know.

As soon as Mort mentioned the Network, Shuji knew what he was referring to. However, Shuji had been trying to make a point of not revealing himself to anyone since he had joined. The incident with his bird happening to broadcast a bit of his voice to people was something he could get away with, since his image wasn't out there. Still, Shou knew because of their encounter (having pretty much wrestled it out of Shuji) and the guy from the restaurant hadn't been able to mind his own business, so he had figured it out too. Other than that, Shuji was priding himself on keeping out of the spotlight. Life was easier if people weren't poking at him.

Which, unfortunately, he was needing to suffer through right now.

Simply hovering his hand over the device wasn't enough to satisfy his curiosity. Usually, he would never want to touch someone's possessions (knowing how touchy he was about his own). He lightly rested his hand on top of the device, leaping back nearly a foot as soon as the can shifted under his hand, jumping up a bit and landing back on the table as soon as it had taken its shape.

There was that strange sensation again. The faint pounding that made him gasp in a breath, almost feeling as though he was a different person entirely. This thing... the hopper. There was a memory just out of reach, like the memory he'd been dealing with since arriving in the city. Using it to talk to someone.

"Hopper!" The mechanical grasshopper jumped to another corner of the desk, Shuji immediately moving forward to scoop the device up in his hands.

"No no no, come here..." Surprisingly, interacting with the machine was showing a completely different side of Shuji's personality. The serious, stoic exterior was gone while he caught the hopper and firmly held it in his hands, not wanting to let it continue jumping around. He cleared his throat, giving Maki a rather sheepish look. "... I'm very sorry."

Mort was both severely annoyed by this--which he chalked up to that irrational dislike he was doing his best to ignore--and rather surprised. He'd caught that abrupt shift in personality, and he couldn't help but wonder if Shuji was just presenting a harsher front to the world. Had he just seen the true Shuji? He made a mental note of that; it might help him out if he were to have difficulty getting Shuji to talk. He'd perhaps encourage the other man to distract himself playing with the grasshopper...

"Ah, it's quite alright..." Mort switched off the little grasshopper, sending it into its dormant can form once more. "It's quite similar to your bird, isn't it?" At least, he was fairly certain Shuji was the one with the bird robot. He couldn't imagine otherwise now, not with the way the other had almost immediately triggered this can-like robot.

Shuji couldn't help but feel a little disappointed at no longer having the hopper in his hands, but he had to remind himself that the object wasn't his, even if it greatly resembled something of his own. And he couldn't push away the feeling of having used it before. He had no idea where the hawk had come from, let alone where all of these people were getting different looking versions of the same object. Maybe he could risk admitting he was the person on the Network, to be able to find out where it had come from. ... on the other hand, if this man knew nothing, then Shuji didn't want to have wasted revealing himself.

There was a long, uncomfortable pause while he weighed his options. Maybe there was no harm in admitting it, if he could figure out the potential source. It had to mean they were connected somehow... right?

"I wasn't aware I'd made myself so obvious." The tone of voice Shuji used had come out much more bitter than he'd intended.

"Ah, well, it wasn't obvious... more of an educated guess on my part." Though now Shuji certainly was obvious. "Your voice sounded quite familiar from your earlier transmission with that similar robot, and then when you seemed to know how to activate this one, I simply put two and two together." Mort kept his voice professional, upbeat.

He once more gestured to the comfortable-looking armchairs by the window. "Please, won't you sit down?" It would be much easier to hold a conversation if Shuji were relaxed and not quite so guarded. Mort had caught that bitter tone, and he needed Shuji to feel at ease...even if he still had no idea why he just couldn't stand the guy.

"I make a point of not broadcasting my voice or my image. I don't see the point in doing so." The bird broadcasting his voice had only happened for a moment, but it had been enough to make him recognizable to a small group of people. It was a stupid, simple mistake he was now cursing himself for. He'd tried to be so careful...

Despite the internal argument with himself, Shuji adjusted his hold on the bag and made his way to one of the chairs to take a seat. He reluctantly slid the strap from his shoulder and set it on the floor, keeping the strap wrapped around one hand in an attempt to keep it close. His trust of others was obvious.

"I can see the reasoning behind that...it's certainly safer, and I'd imagine there are those of us here who are less than trusting of the police." Mort moved to join Shuji in taking a seat. He took careful note of the body language, and he wondered if it were simply part of Shuji's front against the world...or if he and Shuji actually had similar feelings towards one another. "You needn't worry about my exposing any secrets, Mr. Kiyokumi. I assure you, doctor-patient confidentiality is very important to me. I'm not going to be telling anyone else on the network about this."

Which meant not telling Eugene about the guy showing up in his office and messing with his grasshopper robot and that surely this was the sign of a man they could not trust...which was probably for the best, given how silly that reason sounded. They'd had enough arguments about the man after he'd broadcasted on the network with the bird robot; Eugene was ready to go offer the guy a job then and there, and Mort maintained his own feelings of foreboding.

Mort leaned forward slightly, making sure to keep his body language as casual as possible, given the levels of illogical dislike he was wrestling with. That wasn't him. He could do this. "Is there anything you'd like to talk about first?"

As far as Shuji knew, there were no issues between the two of them. He hadn't sensed any of the hostility the other man was holding towards him and seemed more wrapped up in his curiosity of the hopper device and his own issues to care much. Leaning back in the seat, Shuji put his hands in his lap, looking a bit nervous but not so much that he was squirming uncomfortably. Much, at least. The hand he kept on the strap of his bag seemed to be holding it as some sort of comfort.

"I haven't seen any reason not to trust them, aside from what everyone else has seen." Which was referring to the death of the teenager he'd come across -- something that had happened before he'd even arrived in the town. He didn't know how to act around the police other than trying to pretend everything was okay. If he kept a wall between himself and the Network, then he could potentially save himself if things took a bad turn. It was selfish, but he believed in self-preservation.

Tilting his head to the side, Shuji took a deep breath, then turned his attention towards the window. "I'm not a very interesting person." Shuji figured that could be a lie in some cases, but his life was certainly less interesting compared to others on the Network.

The nervousness was understandable. Not everyone wanted to go to therapy, after all, and Mort knew Shuji had only been pressured into it thanks to work. He didn’t comment on Shuji’s holding onto the bag, though he did have to wonder what was in there. The paranoid, hateful part of him that had popped up strongly suggested it was nothing good, but he clamped down on those feelings.

“Yes, well...” Matters of trusting the police in regards to the network seemed counterproductive to the real reason Shuji was here, but then again, that might be an adequate way to open up conversation. “You like your coworkers, then? Get along with them?” And of course, there were other things to address. His own gaze followed Shuji’s to the window. “You’re far too hard on yourself--”

He was about to say something else, but as he looked out that window, there was a bright pink pulse lighting up the sky. He felt that hollow ringing sensation once more, and with it this time came a bit of a pain in his chest. He reflexively reached up to clutch at the area, and he quickly mentally ran through a self-assessment of the signs of a heart attack as he wondered just what on Earth that was.

Really, the only things inside the bag were papers from work that he was a bit protective over (after all, he couldn't let it fall into anyone's hands) and the red can-bird he'd placed in there after deciding he didn't want to leave that alone for too long either. There was the chance, he knew, that it might activate itself and try to do something, but as long as the bag was sealed, the chances of that happening were lowered. He hoped. Didn't birds sleep when it was dark?

Shuji had been waiting for the doctor to finish what he was saying, only to be caught off guard by the same pink light. Shuji was on his feet before he realized what he was doing. He hadn't been in town for the first flash of light and had only heard people talk about it, but he was already reaching for his bag to grab the mechanical bird out to tell it to track down the source.

However, he stopped partway, his breath catching in his throat again. It was becoming painfully obvious what this reaction of his body meant. For a moment, he couldn't figure out what was going on. It felt as though he was dreaming while being awake, watching something that wasn't really happening.

Hurry and do it, Eiji. Transform.

Don't!

I've been to many places, but saving lives is equally different everywhere. It was him saying this. He could feel it. Then he was holding the same sort of red medal he had in his pocket, though it was whole... Putting the medals into a device around his waist to transform...

The feeling in his chest that was usually nothing more than a pain swelled up in reaction. It had to be him, because he could remember the feeling of finally gaining the power he wanted. He wouldn't be helpless anymore. There were things he had been unable to do before, but now he could.

Just like the power growing inside of me...

He had never been sure about what the pain was caused by, but that fleeting thought made him stop to think. Shuji's hand went to his chest. ... what exactly was this power?

Not wanting to waste more time than he had, Shuji fought down what he was experiencing, taking the red can out of his bag and activating it, tossing the bird into the air where it hovered as soon as it was open. Shuji looked up at it, motioning out the window.

"There was a pink light in that direction. See if you can find out where it was." And with that, the bird was off. At least that part of having it had turned out to be useful.

Mort was still clutching at his own chest and making his way over to his desk when Shuji sent out the red bird robot. It moved in the same sort of way as the grasshopper and octopus ones he was familiar with. He watched it with that odd sense of this should be more famililar as he popped some aspirin he kept in the top drawer. If this really was a heart attack, well, he was taking precautions.

Only he didn't really think it was. The pain was subsiding, and he knew he was having none of the other symptoms. He considered activating his own robot, but the grasshopper was slower, not as nimble when it came to getting over obstacles. It wouldn't be fast enough. "And what if it finds it?"

"Then I'll know where to start. That's the sort of thing people saw when all of this started." Who was to say this wouldn't be some other large, life-changing event for the people in the city? Shuji stared after the bird as it flew out of sight, waiting until then to pull himself away from the window.

The memory he'd gained was still fresh in his mind, causing him to hesitate for a moment before he dug in his pocket and pulled out the red medal. It was jaggedly broken into two pieces, but he could see the resemblance to what he'd been using in his memory. ... a hawk. It was a hawk, just like the animal can and the bird he'd seen that had sparked his first memory. ... there had to be more to it.

"Not a bad idea..." Mort sat down heavily in the chair behind his desk. It was the closest one now that he'd gotten the aspirin, and he was starting to calm down a bit.

He spotted that medal Shuji was holding, and he almost opened his mouth to ask what it was when that hollow feeling rang out in his head again...and he suddenly came to the realization that whatever the red medal was, he had been the one to break it. That was his fault. Yet there was no guilt over that, only something that was not quite a sense of pride, but a sense that breaking it was a thing that needed to be done. Seeing it broken like that made Mort rather pleased. "...what is that?"

So he wanted to know what it was he had broken.

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