Binding: Rain - Chronicles 改 (Defunct)

ZetsubØ

[--CHAPTER ONE : I DREAMT LAST NIGHT--]

　For me,

　restlessness is the unwavering echo that follows,

　a silent yet persistent presence.

　“I swear... if this train is late...” Shigure hums to himself as he stands upon the concrete platform of the train station. Getting fired seems inevitable for him if he continues his tardiness, though, he knows his boss would never do that. He shifts his footing just as the dust stirs on the tracks, one of the lines bullet trains barrelling past. The wind from the passing train causing his jacket to flutter wildly with his hair.

　Just as Shigure leans down to open his satchel, a middle-aged man politely interrupts. “Excuse me sir, is this yours?” The train guard presents a sheet of paper, inviting Shigure to check it.

　Leaning towards the train guard and peering down at the paper, Shigure quickly shakes his head and smiles. “Ah no, sorry. That’s not one of mine.” He then slips his satchel's strap around his shoulder and nods his head. “Thank you.”

　He gives a brief bow. “No worries sir. I thought perhaps it blew away from you when the train went through the station.” Giving another short and polite bow, the train guard walks away, presumably to find the owner of the paper.

　Shigure watches the train guard go down the concrete platform, speaking with the other commuters. He can't help but appreciate the worker's uniform, seeing it as attractive yet uncompromising on effectiveness, at least he thinks. “He... talked to much...” He idly fidgets with the strap of his leather satchel and considers buying another. As he unintentionally reflects in on himself, he notices a feeling begin to manifest. One that feels foreign, as if his very person is something out of place.

　Though before Shigure manages to pin-point the origin of this feeling, his train arrives at the station. Briefly patting his pockets to ensure he has all his items, he walks across the platform and steps into the train carriage. He undoes a few buttons on his jacket and takes a seat, passively looking around. Shigure acknowledges the simplicity of the interior, though, the LED lights give off an irritating white glare.

　Other passengers board the heated compartment, their faces showing a subtle relief from being out of the cold winter wind. A female voice is heard over the intercom, announcing all should stand clear of the doors, and a second later they slowly close. Everyone remains quite, give for a few quite conversations, and the train silently departs from the station.

　But for Shigure, this foreign feeling only grows. He clasps his hands and stares at the vinyl flooring, trying to decipher exactly what this means or just what it is. "Am I sick?" "Did I forget something?" "Is this just Deja Vu?". Shigure slowly and methodically sits in silence, contemplating.

　He remains like this as the train continues it's journey down the tracks. Clicking of the rails and wheels echo silently across the carriage. Without having any knowledge of time, Shigure simply remains seated, absent minded. Until he hears a voice, one he immediately hates. "Yo!" Looking down at him, a young woman calls out. Stepping closer with an irritatingly sweet smile. She seats herself uninvited directly beside Shigure. This unwelcome and unknown woman leans closer to him, looking down at the ground in the very spot he is staring at. "What'cha looking at there, Mr serious?"

　Once again, the time Shigure found to reflect in upon himself has been interrupted. With a hesitant sigh and irritated expression, he turns his head to look at this woman who has sat herself next to him. "You have eyes. I'm looking at the ground." He replies starkly. "I hate this person already... too expressive." Is the only thing Shigure truly wants to express, but he keeps it to himself.

　With a pout then a playful giggle, she nudges his shoulder. "Hey hey! Don't be like that old man. Throw a dog a bone. Hmm? Hmmmm?" She continues to smile, as if sensing the frustration she is causing Shigure.

　"What the hell are you doing? Don't just come up to someone and touch them. I don't know you, nor do I like you. We aren't friends kid." He pinches the bridge of his nose and grits his teeth. Grabbing his satchel, he moves a few seats away from the woman he finds so irritating. He sits and sighs, hoping she will leave him be, but part of him knows she wont. The feeling persists, though, what accompanies it disturbs Shigure more. Everywhere he looks seems to be slowly descending into greyscale, slowly consuming all.

　"Mister Mister Misterrrr!! Don't leave me like that!" As soon as he sits down, the woman gets up and scurries over to him, planting herself on the seat right beside him. She continues to invade his personal space, leaning far to close to him. Her eyes truly do look like those of a child's, but her body suggests otherwise. "Don't call me a kid! It's impolite..."

　"Sure whatever. And I'm no old man." Shigure sighs and leans back into the train seat. Why wont she just leave him alone? "Look, if you insist on bothering me, at least be quiet."

　She giggles and tilts her head, "Oh but Misterrrr, talk to me!"

　"I'm busy. Shoo."

　"No you aren't! You're just sitting there!"

　Shigure frowns and glances at her. "Yes I am. I'm trying to think. Shut up." He closes his eyes and drowns her out, focusing on the vibrations and sounds of the train. Though he still perceives her voice, rambling on about whatever, it just blends into the noise. It's quiet like this, and offers Shigure a reprise. But a reprise from what? He feels fine, like there is nothing bothering him where there should be something. Instead, he is occupied with this ungrounded feeling.

　The seat of the train is soft, like he is laying on a cushion, and the woman's voice slowly drifts off into the background. Shaking of the carriage, warm air, presence of other commuters, all these things disappear one by one. This gradual experience of release is suddenly torn away from him by a voice calling out, just beside him.

　"Captain..."

　"Be quiet..."

　"Captain, Wake up..."

　A hand is placed on his shoulder, soft and small, beginning to shake him. "Captain, you do this every morning. Get up."

　As Shigure opens his eyes, he sees a woman, a different woman to the one on the train. Her black hair falls down her face as she leans over, looking down at him. Her hand continues slowly shaking him. "Yato..." Realising he's still lazily laying in bed, Shigure sits up suddenly, forcing the woman to step back. "I know, I know..."

　Yato, tilts her head to the side watching him with a solemn and curious expression. "Another one of those dreams?" She steps towards his bed again and places her hand upon his shoulder once more.

　"It's nothing to stress about. Thanks for waking me again." Giving a tired morning groan in return, Shigure rises out of bed to his feet, dismissively brushing Yato's hand away.

　The room is quiet and dull, only housing practical items such as a bed, dresser, overall rudimentary objects. Grey-white walls and ceiling, no decoration, and bright LED lighting. Most soldiers would decorate their quarters, but not Shigure. Why would he want more stuff to clean and keep tabs on? He preferred practicality over pleasantries.

　Thoughts of the dream linger with him, bringing a degree of discomfort, yet he knows it was just a manifestation of himself. Shigure grabs a tablet from the bedside table and glances at his tasks for the day. Supervise training, review upcoming battle plans, amongst other duties he deems too insignificant to commit to memory. He tosses the tablet to Yato who swiftly catches it, placing it under her arm to scan over later.

　Yato stands silently, simply following his movements as he goes about changing into dress uniform. She had expected that being attached to a Captain such a Shigure would be heavy work, but in reality, Shigure never demands much. He is content with her merely existing near him, and providing support on paperwork when he is occupied with other more important tasks. The few years have been fast, as she is typically free to do what she enjoys. She zones out, mindlessly observing him.

　Stopping at the dresser and pulling out dark grey military slacks, he turns around slightly and locks eyes with Yato. “I’m going to change. I’d rather you didn’t stare.”

　She comes back to reality, finding herself stuck in his gaze. “I want to watch, Captain.”

　“Uh… no. No watching.”

　“Please? Darling?” Yato doesn’t know why, but today, she wants to see him change. She can’t find a reason, but nor can she find a reason not to stay. So she stands her ground, staring right back at him.

　With a tired sigh, Shigure simply nods and begins to change, keeping his back to her. Slipping into an ironed white shirt and buttoning up. Followed by the dark grey slacks, a belt of the same colour. Just as he is about to put his tie on, he frowns and spins around to look at Yato once more. "Don't call me darling."

　"But it sounds nice... it makes us sound closer!" She smiles a bit, not surprised by his reaction, the same reaction every other time. "Doesn't too much professionalism bother you?"

　"No." He stares at her for a few seconds, just studying her face. Sharp features, medium length black hair, amber irises, amongst other above average features. He closes his eyes and shrugs unenthusiastically. "Call me whatever you want in private. Just don't make a habit of calling me strange names."

　"Thanks, Darling Captain!" She clasps her hands together excitedly.

　"No... do not call me 'Darling Captain'." He slides the tie around his neck and folds his collar down over it. "Address me as a superior, or rumours will start." Opening his eyes and peering in Yato's direction, finishing up his uniform with a matching suit jacket. Then brushing his clothes smooth.

　She stares at him for a second, nods, then salutes him. "Yes, Captain." Yato turns and walks to the room's door, flipping the tablet up in front from under her arm, beginning to memorize the Capitan's tasks. Stopping at the threshold of the door and looking at him over her shoulder, she briefly remarks. "I'll be on my way if you don't require anything else, sir."

　Shigure shakes his head while in the process of clipping his handgun holster to his belt, finding no need to give a verbal response. Understanding, Yato steps to the door. It slides open, air from the pneumatic pistons that drive it being released. She steps through and turns down the hall out of sight. Sounds of the closing door the only remaining notice of Yato. He stands idle, watching the door, expecting more. But, nothing more comes, and his day finally must begin.