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voice test ☀ kamui shirou
honestly, he's just awkward and bad at socializing;
it's probably sweet that his friends worry about his appetite enough that they make him way more food than he can possibly eat, but seriously. it's too much food. so when someone else approaches the bench he's sitting on, he kind of just... awkwardly reaches out, as if to grab their attention.]
Oh. Well— Uh.
[he didn't think this through, and he's kind of fumbling on his words here. he's never done this before, okay! usually he has someone around who just butts in for his sake or keiichi, who... is rather boisterous about these things.
help.... he needs help.]
if nobody's bleeding, it's not x;
huh.
isn't that strange?
except there does seem to be victim here. a young boy, one who appears to be in high school based on his attire—definitely a uniform, clad in dark slacks and a white button-down shirt. except that the white shirt is covered in blood, pooling at his torso, and he's all scraped up—even his cheek bears a mark that looks too clean a slice to have been from earthquake debris. which there is none of.
either way, he probably needs help because he's letting out a sound and kind of. crumpling to the ground. this is probably an issue.]
it's also not x if kamui isn't crying, tbh;
but he's not always cut out for that mentality, especially with all of the horrors he keeps being forced to see. he needs a release every once in a while, and while sitting outside on a brilliantly sunny day, in a park near to the person he was visiting... he's...
crying?
so it seems, with head dipped and wetness on his cheeks, and he's just murmuring to himself:]
This... is my fault, too...
[it's probably not his fault as much as he's blaming himself, but it's fine. maybe someone can snap him out of it.]
wild card;
2!!!
[you know, some dude standing in the midst of everything looking like he just lost a fight with a salad chopper sooooort of takes precedence. right?]
H-- [for a moment, all Akira can do is just stare, as he tries to make sense of. . . well. everything?]
-- hey!
[but then the mysterious stranger is pitching forward, and Akira's feet are moving without input from his brain. he reaches out to catch this guy under the arms before he can eat concrete, blood be damned]
[WHAT A NICE FIRST IMPRESSION!!]
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where they're not facing the end of the world that currently rests on kamui's shoulders. 1999 is a crazy place, apparently. and so is the space-time continuum? whatever, we do what we want, though kamui does not necessarily do what akira wants.
he's definitely collapsing against akira, because he really doesn't have a choice. he's bleeding out, and it's probably obvious on closer inspection that this isn't his first brush with something like that; there are remnants of old bandages around his arms. what is this guy all about? who knows—but kamui's not really prepared for this. akira's build and appearance is similar to someone else he knows—someone he assumes would be more likely to come help him than a stranger. and with his vision blurred from the blood loss, he's...
gonna fuck this one up.]
Su... baru...?
[no. he's not subaru, though it's because he's not really looking at akira's face to see that there are glasses there, that his eyes are grey and not green, and he lacks the scent of stale cigarettes that subaru often has.
oops.]
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Wh-- no. Akira.
[he keeps his voice as even and as calm as he can, but truthfully, he doesn't really know how to deal with these kinds of injuries in the real world. can't break out a Diarahan when he can't summon a Persona, right? and Dr. Takemi's clinic is way too far for him to transport this guy alone. his heart thuds wildly against his chest, adrenaline pumping through his veins as he tries to distantly recall the first aid lessons he learned oh-so long ago. because he may not be equipped or trained for this, but like hell he's going to let this guy suffer. stranger or not]
[he settles for gently (gently!!) lowering the stranger to the ground, positioning him on his back. Morgana gets shooed out of his bag too, because he needs it to keep this guy's head elevated. the hell even happened, here?]
Hang in there, okay? Focus on me. I'll get you help-- hey! [that last bit is yelled at the crowds of people around them. has anyone even noticed??] Someone call a damn ambulance!
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Ijyuin...?
[surprise, he does actually know an akira of that size and build, but.. no.]
No—
[he squints, trying to shake that off. if it was that akira, he'd have just taken him to a facility on the clamp campus or alerted one of the other seals to come help. but this guy seems panicked, which means he's not involved in the conflict that will decide the fate of the world.
which feels weird as it is, random people don't usually help him. subaru or sorata are usually there quick enough after this sort of event; there's no barrier up now like there had been when he got injured, which makes him wonder where they went... but it's a little too much effort to focus on right now. he winces, trying to force himself back upright, because he's a dumb moron—leaving himself to wince and reach to cover the wound.]
Need... to make sure—they're okay, first...
[which seems to imply there are others who might have been in danger, but there's nothing like that here? just people fussing about the rumble from the earthquake, really.]
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Don't move.
[his tone is firm, authoritative. the kind of tone someone uses when they're brooking no arguments. he glances up, searching for anyone else in the general area who might be hurt, and finds nothing. what he does see is a woman with her phone out and pressed against her cheek as she stares at the both of them, which means at least someone heard his plea for help. thank god, although he can't help but wonder what took so long]
You need to lie still, all right? I don't see anyone else hurt, so your friends. . . they must be okay.
[he doesn't know, but he's trying to calm this guy down as much as he can]
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But, I have to—
[ughhh. this hurt a lot? this hurt a lot.
but he can't really let this go, can he? even though he got hurt, he was there, and now...
well, the barrier is down, so he supposes it's a fight for another day, but tiredly, and slumping a little, kamui lets out the quiet utterance of name.]
Fuuma...
[despite being really woozy, he is, at least... still mostly coherent? he's probably fine akira, it's okay.]
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[by now, a small crowd has gathered around them, with people muttering and gossiping between themselves. those injuries look serious, they say. is he involved with the yakuza?, they ask. whatever trouble that young man got into, they want no part of it. Akira feels himself instinctively bristle as those words float in one ear and out the other, but an ambulance is on the way. and that's the important part]
[he ignores the people around them and tries to focus. what else can he do, before help arrives?]
Tell me about Fuuma.
[keep his attention. keep him awake and focused. Akira shrugs off his jacket (nearly hitting Morgana, who protests loudly, but despite that he seems just as worried as Akira himself is) and presses it against the injured stranger's chest to try and stop some of the more immediately bleeding]
What are they like?
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and fuuma...
how does he answer that? what is fuuma like?
well, if nothing else, that question has him thinking and laser-focused, though even if he weren't, he'd be unlikely to notice the rumors milling about. he's used to it; a boy who grew up with no father was always an outcast with no friends in a society like theirs, save for the exceptions.]
Fuuma.. Fuuma is...
[he winces, pained.]
What is Fuuma like...?
[he doesn't even know anymore. once warm and kind, and now... cold. intent on killing him, but not before toying with him this way and leaving him bleeding out on the streets like this.
It's Complicated.] He's...
Someone... I want to protect... someone... I...
[his breathing is definitely a bit labored; his face pale, and thought it's not from the physical pain, it seems like there are a few tears stinging at his eyes. it's not from anything akira is doing—this is a deep, emotional wound in his heard.]
I have to bring him... back...
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[Akira understands none of this, of course. he just doesn't have the context to make sense of it. but hey, he doesn't have to. he just wants to keep Kamui talking]
Okay.
[he replies with an understanding nod. he can feel the blood seeping through his jacket and staining his fingers, and inwardly he curses himself for not being able to do more]
You'll have the chance to do that later, yeah? Just keep hanging on. What about Subaru?
[he continues the conversation, but Akira's are perked for the sounds of an approaching ambulance]
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he pauses for a long time, trying to stay focused even though his mind and his heart are racing. there's so much he can't say, especially not to some stranger on the street that's just trying to help him.]
Subaru...
[is also someone dear to him, but his mind kind of wanders a bit as he realizes that he's bleeding through the jacket akira put over him; kamui's expression darkens a bit, a wave of guilt washing over him. this...
this is his fualt too, that this is happening, isn't it?]
—Your jacket!
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It's fine; don't worry about that.
[it's just a jacket. he can get a new one. a person's life is way more important]
I didn't really like this jacket in the first place.
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It's... my fault, though.
[look. he might just be trying to not think about fuuma right now, which is a monumental task for kamui shirou at all times.]
You don't even know me, and—
[just tell him to shut up, it's probably fine.]
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[he offers a wan smile at that, as the ambulance bulls up next to the sidewalk]
That doesn't matter. I don't need to know who you are.
[not to keep someone from dying. not to help someone who obviously needs it. with that? he leaps back, because the paramedics are bursting out of the ambulance and crowding around Kamui to treat his wounds. enjoy that attention, mysterious stranger]
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even though fuuma may or may not be the reason he's like this. sometimes, you just have those people in your life, right.]
That's—
[well, kamui gets it to an extent. he doesn't really want to see people get hurt or killed either, especially not when it involve the conflict that rests on his shoulders.
either way, it's an unfinished thought because paramedics are doing the thing and probably talking to akira to see if he knows kamui or anyone he can contact. but not everyone has phones in 1999!! kamui doesn't and none of his contacts do, and he's probably kind of ready to pass out anyway. o o p s.]
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[but Akira converses with the paramedics readily, answering their questions as honestly as he can. no, I don't know who he is. no, I don't know how he got hurt. he just appeared like this, and he mentioned a few friends, but I don't know who or where they are]
[unable to find any contacts for Kamui, the paramedics make a request for him to accompany the stranger to the hospital. Akira's quick to agree-- he'll just have to text Yusuke and tell him that they're going to have to hang out another day, because this is way more important. he makes sure to give Morgana time to hop back into his bag before he scoops it off the ground and leaps into the van behind the gurney]
[WHAT AN EXCITING DAY]
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you know, once kamui is all patched up (was there surgery involved? probably a little), it'll probably be a bit before he wakes up.
which... mostly consists of him opening his eyes blearily, groaning from the pain, and looking up a bit... dead-eyed, or sad-eyed at the ceiling. he's probably still a bit out of it, though better than he likely was earlier, at least.
AN EXCITING DAY, TRULY.]
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[he hangs around the hospital the entire time, although he isn't able to answer many of the doctor's questions. he probably looks kind of spooky, milling about the waiting room with patches of smeared blood staining the front of his shirt and the edges of his sleeves, a blood-soaked jacket thrown over his shoulder. but he isn't about to go home and change until he's sure this guy is okay]
[which is why he's there when Kamui eventually comes to, lounging in a nearby chair with his feet propped up one one of the arms, a black and white cat curled in his lap (pets aren't allowed in the hospital-- he totally snuck Morgana in). the small bits of movement catch the corners of his vision, and he swivels around to face this stranger immediately. Morgana grumbles and hops from his lap to his shoulder when he moves]
Hey-- [he speaks up loud enough for Kamui to hear, but his tone is gentle]
You're awake?
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[he's at least coherent enough that his gaze shifts to sound of that voice. which... is faintly familiar from earlier, but kamui is still just out of it enough to not recognize that immediately. so when he looks over, he's definitely...
still really surprised. his eyes widen a bit.]
You're—
[the guy from earlier? the one who helped him? he's pretty sure. kamui doesn't actively recognize him as anyone else, though it begs the question of where the others are, and if they're all safe. but before that:]
You... stayed here all this time?
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Of course I did.
[as though that's a question]
Nobody knew your contacts. You gave me a few names, but-- [that didn't help] I couldn't just leave you here alone.
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he's not?
yuzuriha usually has inuki with her, and even though he's an inugami, kamui's just kind of used to it at this point. so.. it's fine. rules be damned, but he's probably not in the best state to make this assessment, anyway.]
You could have. If don't go back, someone... would have found me.
[they're probably looking, because he's "kamui."]
I can just call someone, I'm awake now.
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[Akira has like a thousand and five questions, but he's trying to take them slowly. especially since this guy probably wants to call his family, his friends, to let them know where he is before he answers any of those questions. they might be worried sick about him. so, with the cat still hanging out on his shoulder, Akira stands up and draws his phone from his pocket]
Even if they had found you, it probably would've been too late. You were in pretty bad shape out there.
[and that's why he hung around!! don't worry about it Kamui, it's fine. also: totally hands this 1999 kid his 2016 smart phone, because he'll absolutely know how to use one of those]
Here. You can borrow my cell phone to call them, if you'd like.
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[well, definitely subaru and a host of others, but not fuuma or the other akira. kamui just shakes his head a bit. it's not important.
he can't trouble a stranger with who his friends are and aren't, or what's going on. the mention of fuuma's name does have him wincing just a little, and he doesn't really acknowledge the shape he was in, beyond.]
Anyway, I've dealt with worse.
[no broken ribs this time? :D it's fine. probably. regardless...
suddenly, akira's putting a phone in his hand, and this 1999 kid definitely has no idea how to use a smartphone. what the hell is this? what is it? it's rectangular and glass and...
????? ???? ????? ?????
he doesn't know what to do with this, akira.]
Phone? [this is a phone? there's no antennae, or you know.
buttons? keys? numbers? wtf.]
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That's not comforting, by the way.
[what kinds of things does this guy do to get beaten up so badly?? apparently on a regular basis?? not that Akira is one to talk, but he at least has healing magic, and only brings the tiniest scars from his fights in the Metaverse to the real world]
-- ah, right. That's my phone. [???? IT'S A PHONE, KAMUI. WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM HIM] Like I said, you can use it.
[uh]
Your injuries didn't make you forget what phones are, did they. . .
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[and yet, he's looking at this so puzzled? so puzzled.]
They tend to look something like actual phones. [gestures to the one on the table next to the bed. maybe he should just use that to call whoever's at home right now?
he has no idea how to use this, so he's just going to... attempt to reach for the landline, which is probably a stupid idea, but kamui is stupid sometimes.]
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You're going to pop some stitches if you move too much.
[and, a little less importantly--]
And this. . . does look like a phone. [TO HIM IT DOES?? THIS IS HOW PHONES LOOK] Maybe not a landline phone, but.
[squints at Kamui, because now Akira looks just as puzzled as he does]
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he won't dial while they're talking, at least.]
A space phone, maybe.
[though it's not like he has any other cell phones on hand to disprove this.]
I've never seen one like this. [sounds fake to him, okay.]
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[???????]
[maybe this guy just. . . didn't have access to this sort of technology growing up? Akira can't judge! and so he lets it slide right there, reaching out to pick up his own phone and slip it back into his pocket]
[IF ONLY HE KNEW]
Well, if you're more comfortable using the landline, that's fine. They'll both get the job done the same way.
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yeah. space phone. which may or may not be better than space pants?]
It's just easier to use something I know how to.
[he doesn't say it with any malice or attitude. it's more like... quietly baffled. he doesn't start dialing yet, though, only looking at akira with a bit of a puzzled expression.]
You don't have to stay any longer. [which isn't him trying to make akira leave, he's just ???? who is this stranger staying here with him all this time??? and his cat.] You must have been here for a long time already.
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No, don't worry. I get it.
[he offers a small smile at that, because he totally does. no judgment here! use your landline phone, new. . . friend (???)]
And I'd at least like to stick around until you contact your friends or your family. If you don't mind, that is.
[juuuust to make sure he's got someone out there to look after him]
3
But that aside, a normal day! It's a good day for a walk, as well, and with no one to encourage her to pump her legs and break into a sprint, Fuuka's content to take it slow and additionally take in everything around her.
The sunny warmth, the leaf-dappled shade from the trees, the person crying on... the....
Wait.
It's perhaps a bit too intrusive for someone who still tends to be so shy, but before she can stop herself or at least pause long enough to think it through, Fuuka is hurrying forward and pressing a handkerchief into this total stranger's hand. ]
Are you all right??
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he definitely got caught in his own head there for a bit. it had been kamui's intention to clear his head, and instead... well. this? this is him dwelling in the wrong direction and being interrupted by...
a girl?
a girl putting a hankerchief in his hand.
oops.]
Oh, uh. Yeah, I'm okay. [awkwardly!!! though it's not fuuka's fault, he's just wiping his cheeks with the back of his hand, looking a bit... hapless, in his way. they're both kind of not great at this "people" thing, really.] I guess I spaced out there.
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[ ... this is awkward. There's no real way to back out of this now without seeming like he's gone and scared her off, and she doesn't quite think he's okay as he says he is. He was crying. ]
I... that is, if you'd like to talk about it-- or not, I understand, you can keep the handkerchief!
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[not in a rude way. or at least, not intentionally so; he would feel bad taking it from her when he doesn't really need it.
he draws in a breath and offers fuuka a smile, even though it's weak and a bit sad.]
Th-thanks, though.
[he's not unappreciative.]
You don't really need to trouble yourself with me, though. [it's probably better that she doesn't, in all honesty. he feels like he'd probably just bring her misfortune, somehow.]
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[ She knows a dismissal when she hears one. And if this had been the Fuuka of approximately a year ago (even less than that, if she had to be honest), she would have bashfully excused herself and fled to let him be.
But she's not the same person, and after all of her experiences and her strong desire to understand the people around them, to help-- Fuuka shifts from foot to foot for a moment before pressing her lips together and seating herself beside him. ]
I think I would be more troubled if I left you like this... when your smile looks like it hurts. If nothing else, um... perhaps I can be a distraction?
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really, by now? kamui should expect this. people always do this to him—even when he tries to push them away, they sit by his side. they worm their way into his heart and try to befriend him. and kamui, try as he might to be colder and more detached...
he's never really succeeded at that. despite the things he does, despite the ways he knows he's capable of hurting others to achieve his goals—he is a kind person with a warm heart. so he can't tell fuuka that her presence isn't wanted, or that she should leave.
though...
he doesn't really acknowledge the status of his smile. it's never not going to be a bit sad and wistful, he thinks. not after the things he's lost. but even still, what he does respond to is the latter half of her statement, which is met with surprise.]
A... distraction?
[he's not opposed, most people just aren't so blunt about it when they're actively trying to distract him.]
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[ Fuuka's smile is half-apologetic, all sheepishness. How Minato and Junpei and Yukari had made interaction look so easy, she'll never really know. ]
It would be rude of me to pry any more than this, so I think maybe talking about something else might make you feel better.
[ A pause, as she curls her fingers into her skirt. ]
... I'm sorry, that really does sound presumptuous.
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[he doesn't think it's presumptuous at all. honestly, he kind of thinks the same that fuuka does—people like keiichi and sorata make it look so easy to be open and friendly, but now a total stranger is offering him kindness...
and kamui really doesn't even know what to do with it.]
People don't tell me they want to distract me, that's all. They're usually just... loud. [well, sorata's loud, keiichi can break the sound barrier and yuzuriha can be loud, but they're usually the ones trying to actively brighten his day.] It surprised me.
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[ Fuuka is definitely not a loud person by any definition of the term. ]
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[his tone betrays his words, though; despite any mild exasperation, there's a faint fondness to it—they're all people he likes a lot, after all.]
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Then... my name is Yamagishi Fuuka. It's a pleasure to meet you.
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[right! introductions! he almost seems to be a bit flustered at that, despite himself.]
Shirou... Kamui. [he bows his head a bit, and then... almost politely, but not quite (where did those honorifics go, we just don't know):] Nice to meet you... Yamagishi.
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... Even if it was a little unexpected, but I think most meetings are.