ardent | 006. Text/Action for Violet City

006. Text/Action for Violet City

[TEXT]

[Today's post is a bit different, the usual video completely absent; he's not been much in the mood for talking to others lately.

However, there are reasons why he thinks he probably should. So text it is.]

As much as we don't always understand or like it very much, the experiences we've had in this place are things to be cherished, I think. It's a good opportunity that we've been given, to meet others we might never have known and share ideas that we might never have come across otherwise.

I feel very blessed to have met all of you. If I haven't spoken to you, then I want to eventually; I'm sure there are things we can learn from one another, if given the opportunity. I still haven't found what it is I'm supposed to do with myself here - but I don't think that stagnation is acceptable, either. For now, I think "working on making things right" is a satisfactory goal, and one that I need to keep in mind more often, maybe.

Either way, I hope that today is a good and productive day for you - and if not, that tomorrow will be better.

[...it's a little subdued and Not Exactly Okay - by Ishimaru's usual standards, anyway - but he sends it anyway; it's just something he's needed to get out there, really.

Somebody's dealing with his first sudden-disappearance-from-Johto experience over here; it's not going too well, but he's trying to get back on track the only way he really knows how.]

[ACTION]

[Ishimaru's been making himself scarce lately; he's used the few days he's had since turning twenty to throw himself into being a complete workaholic, and while that's been good for replenishing what he's spent (and he's been spending much more than usual over the last couple of weeks, something he's been feeling intensely guilty about), there have been other abovementioned reasons for his radio silence and general avoidance of everyone.

But he's off today and the streets of Violet City are welcome, even if he does seem a bit jittery. He's out of his normal uniform, for one thing, and it's still something he's completely unused to - the military-style boots are the same, of course, but he's got black pants on under them, the stiff ones he usually uses for travelling purposes despite the fact that he's doing nothing of the sort just now; as for the rest...he has no idea where Naegi even found the thing in Johto, but he is currently +1 trendy-as-hell hoodie, white with red and black accents and more zippers than he knows what to do with. He still feels more than a bit out-of-place wearing it, but it's something he could get used to. Maybe. The hood's dropped back over his shoulders; it seems to be...weirdly weighted down by something, and if he's seen at the right moment, there's what's undeniably some sort of cat in there, peeking out over his shoulder. Meowth, from the look of it. A very, very runty one, but a Meowth regardless.

Of course, he's got other reasons for the nerves, apparently; he comes to a stop outside the local bar, looking up at it in the way that one does when they know they have absolutely no reason for going in there and are probably going to get thrown out because...well, god only knows why. It's a ridiculous notion, especially given that no one here seems to care about the local drinking age, if one even exists; Oowada had taken him in there shortly after his birthday, and he's come back frequently since, immediately after he's off work. Which wouldn't be too weird - he can do as he pleases, after all - if he didn't get off work in the middle of the afternoon.

Clearly, it's five o'clock somewhere.

However, once he slips inside, he's actually not interested in drinking; what's got his attention is the billiards table in the back room. That's where he goes immediately, setting the Meowth down on one of the nearby stools before picking one of the cue sticks off the back wall. It's not high-quality (nor is the table, really) but he's not going to complain; it's just for the sake of amusing himself, anyway. He'd noticed the setup when he'd come in here the first time, with Oowada; he hadn't played then, but it's what he's been coming back for.

Pool is geometry, when it comes down to it - geometry and physics, all angles and force and arcs; even so, he's still not sure where he picked up how to play. It's just something he knows how to do; if he were to dwell on it for long enough, he'd likely think that it's something he doesn't remember due to the incident in the school. But for now, he doesn't want to think; he racks up easily, and when he shoots, the break is a clean one.]

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[It's pure chance, really, that has Kirigiri spotting Ishimaru slipping into the local drinking establishment; a simple case of happening to be in the right place and precisely the right time, and finding the sight of someone hesitating in front of the doors odd enough to look twice and realize that oh, it's her classmate, and more importantly it's quite possibly her classmate least likely to be going in to such an establishment in the first place.

The problem here is, there's no way to follow him in without ultimately being noticed — she'll stick out like a sore thumb in a place like that, and if her appearance alone doesn't do it, then remarks from other patrons almost certainly will — and that might create the opening for another spat about her actions and tendencies. She might have to deal with mistaken accusations that she's following him, or watching him, or something equally troublesome; in the grand scheme of things, it's probably nothing anyway, and maybe it's not worth her time.

But no, there's something that's nagging at her, and she can't put her finger on what it is, and that's ultimately why she decides to follow him in — to alleviate that annoying feeling.

She's really not sure what she's expecting, but pool isn't it.

She breezes through the bar the same way she carries herself in every other situation — like she belongs, like she owns it, like she has every right to be here and anyone who might question her is so obviously wrong that there's no point in even deigning to acknowledge them. But she doesn't approach the table itself; no, she hangs back near the stools (and the cat) and hovers like she always does, waiting to be noticed and using the time in between to figure out what she's even doing here in the first place.]

[...well, technically speaking, she is both watching and following. Just not constantly. But accusations of watching and following wouldn't be inaccurate.

However, that is neither here nor there and while he's pacing the length of the table there's something that catches his eye - a splash of color, a motion from the cat that's looking a bit fascinated with that somewhat nonsensical braid, and any accusations he might have made are slung completely out the window in favor of his gaze darting away and focusing high, somewhere between her head and the ceiling, and he fidgets a bit with the stick before making himself stop, his grip tightening.]

Ah, Kirigiri-kun! I didn't see you there - have you been here long?

[There's something about his choice of words there — I didn't see you there — that needles at her, in light of their earlier ~~fight~~ discussion. She's well aware he doesn't mean anything by it, and that he wasn't intending that as a jab at her. But it's strange, because she's supposed to prefer to be inconspicuous and unnoticed, and yet there's a connection between not seeing and not caring that she's probably reading into it all on her own — and so maybe it's not the words that bother her, so much as it is that she's apparently still upset enough about what he'd said to let it keep affecting her even now.]

Long enough.

[He's not even looking at her. Fine; she'll regard the inquisitive cat, instead.]

Are you expecting a challenger?

[Or are you just a sad and lonely guy playing pool all by himself in the middle of an afternoon in a bar with no friends. Maybe it's the latter.]

[Oh, what do you think.

That said, though, the question does get his attention - or at least, it gets him to stop looking at the ceiling like it'll answer him if he directs everything he's saying toward it.]

I'm not expecting anyone, no - do you play?

[Whoever's tending the bar is probably so damn confused right now, given Awkward McThugLyfe addressing all conversation to the ceiling and Ghosty McSunblock busy fixating on a cat. Such is life.]

Not well.

[Even so, she casts a glance over at the rack of cues.]

But it'd still be more interesting than playing alone, I imagine.

It would be, yes! Go ahead, if you'd like; I don't mind, Kirigiri-kun.

[...well, at least the cat is better at making eye contact than Ishimaru is; since that braid is currently out of her reach, she's just kind of staring in that weird, unblinking sort of way that cats have. Possibly contemplating the universe, possibly just wondering what's for dinner tonight, who knows.]

[Hopefully, dinner is not the braid, or that's going to get messy.

Speaking of the braid, her motion forward is rapid enough to send it breezing out along with the rest of her hair as she heads to the wall and examines the available cues for a minute before selecting one and sighting down it to see how much of a natural bend exists in the wood. Cheap cues are notorious for that kind of thing, and it's always good to know one's flaws prior to entering into anything.]

Why are you here in the first place?

[She asks, as she begins to examine the layout of the table.]

[He watches her without comment on what she's doing, though the question does get her a bit of an odd look for her effort.]

This is all I'm here for, really - there's not much else to it!

[Really, Kirigiri, he is here to play pool. This is evident from the fact that he is, you know, playing pool.

...is he missing something here or]

[Evidently, but gosh, she better not say that lest he think she's calling him stupid again.]

This isn't the sort of place I'd expect to find you frequenting.

[At last, she seems to pick her shot, and places down her gloved hand and the cue with a fair amount of competency to get it aligned.]

The four ball, in the corner.

[Feint one, feint two...and the third one connects, but the angle isn't quite right, and the four ball bounces lightly off the felt bumper rather than going into the pocket.]

[...you are so mad that you didn't get away with that, aren't you.

Either way, Ishimaru is already doing mental calculations for his next shot; clearly that's going to take priority over - ]

Ten. Side pocket.

[ - everything else. He leans down to set up the shot, laying his hand lightly against the table; he pauses for a moment before sinking the ten ball cleanly, cue ball bouncing off lightly to settle somewhere toward the middle of the table.

He begins pacing again, trying to figure out where to go from there.]

...this isn't really anywhere I thought I would be frequenting, either - Oowada-kun brought me in here a few days ago. The pool table interested me more than the alcohol.

[...Hngh. That was a good shot. More importantly, that was a skilled shot, not a lucky one. Which in turn means a fair amount of this "game" is probably going to boil down to "standing around watching Ishimaru win", but...well. Hngh. Such is life.]

Because you've played before.

[It's the logical conclusion.]

[He shakes his head at that.]

I didn't have time for things like this.

[...]

...Eleven. Corner.

[He's less sure of this shot and it shows, if the fact that he immediately commences that weird sort of posturing that seems based on the idea that the harder you tilt your head, the more the ball is likely to do what you want; he gets the ball in the pocket, but not without ensuring that whatever shot he could possibly line up next is going to be completely useless. Strategy, how does it work.]

Mm.

[Like hell he didn't, if this is the level he's playing at. It's curious, though; it's not as though he's so skilled as to be the Super High School Level Billiards Player, because someone of that nature would know to correct the mistakes he's making (mistakes she's capable of critiquing with an objective eye, even if she couldn't necessarily perform it better herself). This doesn't look like talent so much as it does skill, which seems fitting for Ishimaru-kun.

But he's claiming he had no time for this, and yet the skill is there. Which means something isn't adding up, and she's going to find out what it is sooner or later.]

Do you like the stripes better, or the solids?

I don't care either way, but you seemed to prefer solids.

[Not like it matters what he likes, as far as he can tell, as he's going to be connecting with solids no matter where he hits. At least he's not going to be enough of an asshole to try to plant the ball somewhere that Kirigiri can't use it, either.]

[Well, small favors, at least. She eyes the board again, almost absently moving around to seek out the chalk and apply it to the tip of her cue as she thinks. Scritch, scratch. She ought to be careful not to get the blue dust on her fingertips, or it'll be proof that she was here.

Assuming that's something she cares to hide, that is.]

I'm just making conversation.

[She examines the alignment of the balls again; the four is out of the question this time around, but the six might yet be an option. The tip of her tongue pokes just barely out of the corner of her mouth as she thinks about it, then recedes abruptly as though it was never there at all.]

The six. That side.

[Find the right angle, glance it off — and she shoots.]

...You've never seemed like one for casual conversation.

[It's as blunt as he always is, but there's nothing pointed in it. Just an observation, if a bit of an insensitive one.

He fiddles with the stick a bit again before he continues.]

You always seemed to prefer spending time by yourself, at least from what I remember.

Which invalidates any attempt to the contrary?

[She pauses, rising back up to stare at him in that owlish, unnerving way.]

Or is it that you think I'm up to something?

W-What?

[Kirigiri-kun what the hell - ]

That isn't what I meant, no!

Then what did you mean?

[Seriously, are we going to do this every conversation, Ishimaru-kun? Will conversations between us just not be complete until we've had at least one KIRIGIRI-KUN WHAT THE HELL moment?

is that how it is]

It's just something different from what I remember - I wasn't trying to say whether it's a good thing or not!

[apparently]

[She glances back at the table, almost like an afterthought, and finds herself glad for the recognition that the six went in, because it means that now she can focus on finding her next shot instead of leaving her attention on Ishimaru any longer.]

This place is different from what we remember, too.

[Like that's an explanation.]

[Ishimaru is grateful, in some ways, that her attention is diverted; he's never been big on eye contact as a whole, and it's harder when it comes to Kirigiri - there's something he doesn't like about the way she stares at people.]

That's why I'm not trying to say that it's a good or a bad thing overall - things are different here. And besides, even if we don't consider that, things tended to change very quickly for us at Hope's Peak.

[To say the least. From what he understands, his entire friendship with Oowada lasted about twenty-four hours.

He focuses on that cat then; she's curled up on the stool, long bored with the game, and she looks at him for a second when he reaches out to pet her. She seems content with the knowledge that that's all he wants for the time being, setting her head back down.]

Then you're simply making conversation, too.

[Hmm. Does she go for the four, or the two? The two seems like an easier shot — but she hits too hard, and it careens wildly around the table, where gentle finesse might've put it in the pocket. No good.]

Do you want me to leave?

[Ishimaru is looking at the table when the shot connects, though any thoughts he may have had on it are quickly disregarded in favor of trying to work out where the hell that question came from.]

Of course not! Why would I?

[There's no hesitance behind his words; he's quick to begin pacing the length of the pool table again, selecting the fourteen and lining up his shot. It's annoyingly placed, but entirely doable; he studies it for a moment before reconsidering how to go at it and shifting position. Eventually, though, he lays his hand down again and takes his shot, banking it off the side and into the corner pocket.]

You might find me bothersome.

[She watches him shoot, both hands on her own cue like she's planting a flag instead of playing a game, and contemplates.]

Or unsatisfactory as an opponent for someone who's played before.

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