soul_campaign | The 15th Roll: May 2nd, Evening. [Text]

[[It was like being in a fog. Half asleep, but his feet kept moving one in front of the other, the grip on his suitcase so tight that his knuckles were white. Silent, not even seeming to realize that anyone else was passing by, even if they waved or said hello, he just kept walking.

One foot in front of the other. Move forward. Get where you need to go. The key in the lock. The turn of the handle, ignore the stairs, take the elevator. His hand hurt. Both his hands hurt. Even the grip he had on his apartment key was too tight, like everything else.

First floor. Second Floor. Third...

Across the hall, vision so narrow as to only see the nameplate at his door. One name. His name. His last name. He paused for just a moment, fingers trembling as he reached up. In a swift motion, the carefully lettered paper was ripped free, leaving an empty space behind; glaring metal reflecting the light of the hallway above. The paper crumpled easily in his fist before he let it fall.

Unlock the door. Push it open. Let go of the suitcase. Untie sneakers. Not even looking up at the sound from inside the apartment. Not even acknowledging the person inside. Sneakers off. Door locked. Grab the suitcase. Walk to the bedroom. Let the suitcase fall.

For a moment, everything was still. What now?

His breath seemed too loud. Shaking. Echoing. Without any focus, he couldn't see. He needed to know what to do next.

A shower. Take a shower. He could do that.

He turned, emptying his pockets of his keys and wallet and leaving them on his dresser. His fingers paused, however, when they brushed against the mirror in his other pocket before tightening around it painfully.

He should let someone know. He should... should...

His breath caught as his hands trembled. What could he do? He'd done everything he could. Everything he had been expected to do. To what end...?

Slowly, he sank to the floor, vision blurring as something within him broke. Fingers shaking uncontrollably, he fumbled with his communicator. Just a short message. Something to let them know that Ryuzaki was in danger again and didn't care. Something...

Focus. Just this last thing... It took several tries before he got the right screen. It took even more to get the right letters.]]

i cant

[[His finger slips and hits the send button, the words vanishing onto the network, incomplete and useless. No. No, he didn't mean to send that. He had to fix it. He couldn't.... couldn't...

Instead of trying to correct his mistake, he simply stares at the screen as if somehow by doing that, it would fix the words into what he had meant to say. Even if he wasn't even sure what that was any more.]]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Bakura-san, are you alright?

[[There's a long pause. He wants to type that he's fine. He really does. But he can't.]]

no

Would you like me to come over?

[[A long pause again. He's... pretty torn about this, honestly]]

no

i'll be fine

just so tired

[Raidou is worried, but he doesn't want to force the issue if Bakura doesn't want him there. What should he do...?]

Take some time to rest, Bakura-san. I can cover for you at work.

[A pause.] It will be alright.

thank you

your a good friend raidousan

Just give me a call if you need me.

i will

thank you

The 15th Roll: May 2nd, Evening. [Text]

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text [He can possibly peer out when people start knocking on Bakura's door :)]

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