NOCT OVERFLOW

[swordhardy]

OVERFLOW & EVENTS

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[interacting]

I'll try to keep up.

[ it feels like it's been ages since he's last been to a tea shop; he already felt a little displaced returning to japan from overseas, but being whisked away to another planet entirely has effectively skewed his estimation of time. but it doesn't dampen the initial swell of nostalgia, from the humble wood paneling of the shop to the warm scent of green tea—he's distracted enough that he nearly misses the way the hostess laughs at rokurou's modest order of two servings of the snack, and by the time he looks up, he's caught in his scrutiny. blue meets gold, and while yuta can only see the single eye, the feeling of being assessed and measured is difficult to ignore.

it's only fair if does the same, now that they're not standing in the middle of a crowded street. he's sensed something like this since arriving here—kisame's felt similar, dense and nearly stifling, like being held beneath the ocean at high tide. yuta knows better than to expect that rokurou's (or anyone else's, for that matter) would be the same, but it's like trying to find the steady trickle of water but only finding plumes of smoke instead. similar origins manifesting in different forms. more importantly, rokurou has a lot of it; yuta doesn't need to be from his world to know that he shouldn't be trifled with. ]

I can say the same for you. [ he leans his forearms against the table and glances at his hand. the string remains steadfastly tied to his ring finger; he smiles, paired with a small shrug of his shoulders. ] Maybe that's why we found each other.

[swordhardy]

Maybe so.

[ The prospect that the universe is looking out for him by drawing him toward those that would be a good challenge is a heartening one. Their waitress is prompt in bringing two steaming cups of hot green tea, placing on in front of each of them before bowing away. Happily taking his own between his hands, Rokurou warms his palms and inhales—a rich aroma, deeply earthy and raw. That's the good shit.

Holding a hot cup by its rim when freshly made is one thing, but he keeps his fingers wrapped around its belly, seemingly unbothered by the heat that builds beneath them. Temperature has always been an iffy thing for him, resistance to it higher than a human's by virtue of what he is.

He laughs, a low sound while he rubs his thumb against the cup's edge. Light-footed on only the battlefield, Rokurou's never been afraid to be the first to put his cards on the table. An inclination that only grows when Yuuta seems to assess him right back; how much the boy gleans, he doesn't know, and that too is testimony to who or whatever he might be.

May as well shoot his shot. Worst that can happen is that he scares the kid off; there have been plenty who cut tail and scram just hearing what he is. ]

I'm a swordsman and a yaksha—that's a war daemon, if you haven't heard the term before.

[interacting]

[ he hasn’t, not in this particular sense, anyway. daemons and oni and the like, those are things from legends and fairytales, just like the red string that tethers them. but yuta doesn’t brush it off—he’d once believed that curses didn’t exist either, but now, they’ve become a permanent fixture in his life. adapting to noctium means throwing out his basis of what’s real and what isn’t; who is he to judge when the people here come from entirely different worlds? so, ]

I haven’t. [ but it explains some things. he glances at rokurou’s grip on the cup and then to the steam rising from it; he’s certain that if he were to grab his own cup, it’d be too hot for him to hold comfortably. it could be a gift from his gem or more likely, something he’s already had before coming here. the daemons he’s heard of come in all kinds, but the general consensus has always been that they are malevolent spirits in varying degrees of maliciousness, similar to curses. so it makes sense, then, that he would pick up on that energy surrounding him. rokurou’s bangs cover his eye, but if yuta looks closely, he can make out that faint red glow beneath. ] But I’ve heard of someone who’d recently come from Hell, so I guess I shouldn’t be surprised.

[ maybe he’s being too casual about this. the normal response would have been for him to leave, but, well. he’s not exactly normal himself. not anymore. ]

I’m a jujutsu sorcerer, we exorcise cursed spirits. [ it feels strange to say it. he’d gotten so used to people already knowing who and what he is that having the opportunity to identify with it aloud feels both foreign and freeing. ] I was also trained to use a sword.

[ two for two, now: snacks and swords. ]

[swordhardy]

[ Rokurou cocks his head with interest at the mention of hearing about someone come from Hell, but ultimately doesn't ask despite the curiosity. Maybe if he hadn't mentioned training to use the sword, but once the words are uttered, the daemon's focus narrows. He has a few special interests and this is one of them baybeeee. ]

Is that so? I would have guessed you were a spell-caster if you're some kind of sorcerer. [ clearly he has never heard of jujutsu sorcerers; even the term cursed spirits doesn't quite align with what he knows despite being a rather apt description for corrupted malakhim. ] Then, if it isn't too bold to ask, I'd love to spar against you sometime. I'm trying to keep my blade from dulling while I'm here.

[ He hasn't a clue if a daemon such as himself would fall under Yuta's umbrella of cursed spirits, especially since he's only been a daemon for a few years, but that hardly matters in the face of an interesting challenge. There hasn't been an exorcist yet strong enough to dispatch him (ignoring one man, but even then, it's Rokurou still standing); even if Yuta isn't quite the same thing, it's interesting. Exciting. His pulse quickens with anticipation, every nerve now honed to the boy sitting in front of him.

Glancing down at the red string tying them together, Rokurou's drawn from vivid fantasies of a grandiose battle with a sudden realization. ]

... You know, I kind of thought this would go away when we met. [ but there it is. still... being there. ] Do you think there's something else we're supposed to do?