thenearshore | [semi open]

"If you need it at any time, you can go." And Omi would go with him, both to help him get there faster and to make sure he didn't trip and hit his head. He didn't mention that part aloud, though. "I'm also going to refill your water glass and get you a trash can. If you feel sick again while you're on the couch, it's okay to use that instead."

Announcing what he was going to do was both for Nagi's sake and his own. Given Nagi's impaired state, Omi hoped that talking about what he was doing before doing it would help minimize confusion. And it was helpful to him for centering, keeping his mind clear and focused on tasks at hand. What did he need to do to be prepared for the night. What should he find, what should he do.

"Do you need to go now, before I put this blanket over you?"

Were all gods this fussy? Even the drunk god earlier had been similarly concerned, though in that case, it was over ensuring that Nagi had a good time. Maybe shinki just seemed like helpless things because they were freshly dead and had no memories. (Or maybe it was because Nagi actually was relatively helpless in his current state).

Either way, Nagi was somewhat puzzled by all the attention.

"Um. I'm fine."

He reached for the blanket, as if to gesture that he could cover himself, at least.

At the reach, Omi allowed Nagi to take the blanket from him. Perhaps later, he would look back on this and feel uncomfortable with how attentive he was being. It was in his nature to want to be helpful, and the responsibility to take care of another was one he took seriously. And Nagi definitely did need someone watching out for him right now-- no one as intoxicated as he was should ever be left unattended.

It was just... still Nagi. Sort of. Was it fair to think of him as the same person if he'd lost his memories of every experience that had made him who he was before?

Setting that aside, maybe the more pressing question was whether either of them could afford to not get along here. If what he'd heard was true, he was dependent upon Nagi for protection and fighting power just as Nagi was dependent upon him for meeting basic needs.

Omi busied himself taking care of the water glass and the trash can while he mulled those questions. Maybe... maybe in the morning, there would be an opportunity to talk to someone, or at the very least, maybe he would find an arrangement for Nagi living with him that wouldn't leave him nervous about falling asleep every night.

He set the refilled glass of water on a coaster on one of the end tables flanking the sofa and placed the trash can on the floor within easy reach for Nagi. Then he settled into the chair with the pillow and comforter he'd set aside earlier.

"We'll take a look around and settle on final living arrangements after we've slept. Is there anything else you need?"

Was Diana going to sleep in the chair in the room? Nagi found this rather odd. Maybe Nagi was much sicker than he thought. He felt weirdly uncomfortable by all the fuss. He was quite sure he was accustomed to taking care of himself. Then again, he probably had never stumbled home this drunk before.

Tomorrow felt like a long way away still. The nausea was gone at least, but his headache was probably going to keep him up for quite some time.

"...no."

And with that, he awkwardly settled in, grimacing slightly as he laid his aching head on the pillow. It would be a while before sleep finally came to him.

Omi nodded to that answer.

"Goodnight, then."

And it would be some time before he slept as well. This was in part due to having quite a lot to think about, and it was in part due to wanting to monitor Nagi's condition a while longer. He sat in silence with his eyes half closed, occasionally glancing up to confirm that the other didn't appear worse. And, eventually, exhaustion got the better of him. He drifted off slumped against the chair.

The night went along as well you might expect: not well.

He tossed and turned all night, which didn't do any favors for his raging headache. The following morning, he learned that it was possible to wake up exhausted, a seemingly contradictory concept. He was already groaning when he cracked his eyes open (and then shut them again immediately from the sharp sunlight).

Then he felt something roiling in the pit of his stomach. Thankfully, the trashcan was right there next to the couch for him to use.

And so it was that his first morning as a shinki found him sitting pathetically on the floor hugging a trashcan to himself and smelling of vomit.

The sound of retching was not a particularly pleasant way to return to the world of consciousness, but Omi had to admit, it was effective at rousing him quickly. It took all of two seconds for him to shoot upright in the chair. He blinked a few times while he reoriented himself, processed that Nagi was throwing up again, and threw the comforter off to stumble to the bathroom for a washcloth.

That? Was not nearly enough sleep.

It hardly mattered, though. Nagi's stomach clearly didn't care to wait until they were rested. Omi brought the washcloth back damp with cool water and squatted by Nagi to offer it wordlessly.

Waking up to vomit was definitely not the best way to start the morning. Neither was this brain-splitting headache, which seemed to cause various things around him to vibrate a little. In fact, the water glass looked like it had a crack in it where there wasn't one before. He furrowed his brow and looked up weakly as Diana came back with a washcloth.

Nagi reached for it hesitantly and wiped his mouth with it. He glanced around and saw the chair with the comforter and pillow where his god had apparently crashed for the night. Was this so he could watch over him? He tried hard to remember what exactly happened before this morning.

He suddenly felt rather horrible, not just physically.

"I'm sorry."

Sorry? That was a word Omi never expected to hear from Nagi, and it struck him when he did. I'm sorry, the phrase of remorse. It was an even more humanizing moment than watching his death: Nagi felt bad about the trouble he'd caused. (This shouldn't have been so surprising, but Omi had a tendency to forget that the ones he fought with were people too.) It made him somewhat uncomfortable.

"...Forget about it. It's not--"

His sentence broke off into a sharp hiss of pain. Omi flinched and instinctively put his hand on the stabbing pain at the back of his neck.

"What is that...?"

There weren't a lot of things that would induce feelings of remorse from Nagi. He hadn't been around as a shinki for a very long time, but he already knew this about himself. Nevertheless, he did want to be good at what he did, and for the moment, his job was to help Diana as his shinki. Being dragged home like an intoxicated whino was not the sort of the thing that was helpful.

He gave a brief start when Diana flinched.

"I don't know," he said, eyes widening.

It wasn't him, was it? Nagi could do things with his mind, but surely he had to think about it before it could actually happen.

Omi had never felt something like this before with no clear cause. His nape stung like a needle had gone through it. He sat still, holding it for several seconds before he could draw his hand away, revealing a discolored area that resembled a bruise. Of course, due to its location, Omi couldn't see it.

"In any case... I don't think what happened last night was completely your fault. So you don't need to worry about it. But... thank you."

"Okay ...?"

Was it customary to be thanked for giving an apology? Nagi thought this was rather strange, but maybe it was because he simply didn't remember. (Though he also suspected that he didn't apologize very often in general).

He also wasn't sure which part of last night wasn't his fault. Nagi decided not to inquire further on that score, however.

He glanced down at the trashcan and grimaced a little.

"I should um ... go dump this out."

Omi nodded his agreement with that idea without getting up. His neck still hurt rather badly, but it wasn't as sharp as it had been a few seconds ago. It wasn't until Nagi was out of the room taking care of the trash can that he remembered a tidbit of his briefing. Was this that 'blight' they'd mentioned? The memory was fuzzy after so little sleep, but Omi thought he remembered something about pain that the god experienced when the shinki did wrong. Wasn't he supposed to put some kind of special water on it?

Right. Purified water... and quickly, he was told. That part was important. There was supposed to be some at every god's temple. His was in a pond in the back yard, nestled among the rocks and tall grass. Omi grabbed a cup from the kitchen and went into the back to look for it.

The vomit wasn't very chunky, at least. He must have thrown up most of that last night. (At least, he was pretty sure he threw up last night too...) Nagi flushed the contents down the toilet and proceeded to rinse out the can with water and disinfectant. The pungent smell of the cleaning fluid made him nauseated again but this time he succeeded in keeping it down.

He pulled a bin lining into the trash and set it down on the bathroom floor. He would have liked to brush his teeth, but he wasn't sure whether he should help himself to a toothbrush, especially since he was beginning to doubt that Diana would want to keep him around after all this. He rinsed out his mouth and washed his face in the sink. Then stared at his reflection in the mirror. He looked very pale and hollow-eyed.

When Nagi returned to the living room, he found it empty. He stood there for a few minutes before he finally went looking for him. Had the neck pain gotten worse? Maybe he should have stayed with him. He was surprised to glance through a window to see that Diana was actually outside in the courtyard. What was he doing out there?

Nagi pulled the sliding door open and watched.

"...are you okay?"

Edited (tenses, a few wording changes) 2016-07-13 23:55 (UTC)

Omi found the pond after a minute or two and knelt at its edge. Technically, he was supposed to be able to make water move on its own now, but he had no idea how that worked yet and didn't want to test it out on something as important as taking care of this quickly. He scooped up a cupful, leaned forward, swept his hair out of the way and poured it over the stinging spot.

He immediately sucked in a gasp and cringed. That water was freezing! (But of course it was. It was the end of March, morning and outside water.) And of course it wouldn't just stay where it needed to. It ran down his neck, most of it falling to the ground. But the back of his shirt collar got wet, and a few rivulets had the gall to run down his collarbone and halfway down his chest before dripping and spotting the front of his shirt. His left knee and the hem of his shorts got splashed, too.

He wasn't sure if that took care of it or not, but it was stinging less. He poured a few more cupfuls over it just to be sure, the last one going a bit off course with a small stream running down his left arm. Brr! It was about then that he heard Nagi from the back door. He took in a few breaths and stood, shivered once, and started back for the house.

"Yeah... Fine... Could you just... check the back of my neck for me? Is there anything there?" He presented his nape on reaching the door.

"Your neck...?"

So it was still bothering him? Nagi wasn't sure how splashing water on it would help, aside from maybe the coolness of it acting as a soothing element. He stepped closer as Diana approached and peered at the back of his neck.

He was surprised to see that there was a purplish bruise there. And even more surprised to see it slowly receding, restoring the skin back to its normal color.

"There was. But it's going away," he said, with puzzlement in his voice.

Then he was right about what it was, and he'd done well in getting the water on it. That was good to know. Omi turned back around with a sigh of relief and stepped back inside, gesturing for Nagi to follow. He wanted a hot bath now, especially considering they'd crashed without bathing last night.

He started to ask Nagi how he felt, but considering the boy had just vomited again, that was perhaps rather self-evident.

"If you want to try holding something down, you're welcome to whatever is in the kitchen. Otherwise, will you be okay to hang out on the couch for a little while longer?"

The thought of eating food made him sick, so he was certain that he'd be staying away from the kitchen for the morning at least.

"...I'll be on the couch, then."

He would prefer to maybe poke around a little bit, but he wasn't feeling all that well yet. Besides, it seemed like his god didn't really want him to be wandering around his house. Maybe he didn't intend to keep him here, after all.

Omi nodded to that and went into the bathroom, where he washed himself quickly before settling into a tubful of hot water. He needed it after that brief excursion to the back yard, and the few minutes to be alone, think, and maybe relax would do him good.

He'd been told he could manipulate water now. Omi stared at a spot on the surface and concentrated. Nothing happened. "Rise in a stream," he said as another test. Nothing again. He felt silly. Maybe it was a lie, or maybe they just didn't know what they were talking about. Maybe they were wrong about him being who they said he was.

That idea frustrated him more than the idea that he was who they said and he simply wasn't competent enough do what he was supposed to be able to, so he stared again at the water and scowled. After a good minute of trying to mentally will the water to move with his mind, a thought occurred to him: Nagi's telekinesis wasn't that simple either. Didn't he have to use his hands to a degree? Omi hovered one hand over the water, concentrated again, and pushed the air.

The water parted as though yielding to an invisible hand-sized boat.

He tried again, this time lifting his hand and dragging his fingers. A snake of water rose from the surface. He dragged to one side, and the snake followed. He relaxed his fingers, and the water fell back into the tub. With both hands, he pulled water up and molded it into a sphere. Without ever touching it, he made it move up, down, back and forth, side to side, all while keeping its shape. He stiffened and curled his fingers, and watched the water shrink and harden into ice.

Several more minutes of experimentation passed. Nothing he did was very fancy or using more than half a liter or so, but it was a start! It was weird and wonderful and somewhat empowering. It felt special and exciting, and he couldn't wait to start practicing with larger quantities. But first, he really needed to sort things out with Nagi. He had a (temporary at least) home to explore, and inventory to take, and people to talk to. He climbed out of the bath, wrapped himself in a towel, brushed his teeth and combed his hair, and ventured back to the bedroom to look for any clean clothes.

There wasn't much, but there were some plain basics that would work for now. He dressed into a pair of denim shorts and a hunter green sweatshirt and a clean pair of thick, fuzzy socks, and finally went back out to the living room feeling quite a bit better.

"Sorry for the delay. Are you... doing any better?"

Diana would find him where he left him, on the couch in the living room. It felt strange, sitting in someone else's house. But Nagi supposed it wasn't any stranger than being dead. He thought about the bruise on the back of the god's neck and how it disappeared after putting water on it. Though he didn't have his memories, he did know that bruises didn't just heal themselves in a few seconds. Was this a god thing?

Such were his thoughts when Diana returned.

"A little."

He looked at him carefully, and it seemed like he wasn't in pain anymore.

"How are you?"

Omi was glad to hear that Nagi was feeling a little better. It would probably still be a while before the hangover fully subsided; Omi didn't think there was much more that he could do. Nagi most likely simply had to ride it out...

He smiled in a way that might seem shy. "I'm doing much better now... the bath helped a lot. Do you feel up for walking through the place? We haven't even seen what's inside the other building."

"Sure," Nagi said, rising slowly to his feet. Honestly, he'd probably feel better if he walked around a little bit. His head was still throbbing, but that was probably not going to go away for a while.

They fall into step to explore the house, peering into rooms and so on as they go.

"What was that on your neck, earlier?"

Uh oh.

Omi laughed weakly and waved his hand dismissively. "Nothing, really. Just a... god thing, I think."

How could he tell him? Wouldn't it just make him feel bad again to know it was his fault? That would just lead to another sting. And Omi couldn't exactly say he didn't want Nagi to feel bad when he did something wrong. That was a good thing! ....Mostly. But it was important to have empathy for others, and to care about the impact you had on them. Surely it was worth an occasional stab of pain for confirmation that Nagi was still human like that.

And maybe... maybe it was a little good for him, too, lest he start to forget that fact himself. Omi had the uncomfortable feeling he'd misjudged Nagi before, even as it remained difficult and unsettling to reconcile their new connection with Nagi's membership in Schwarz, who were all clearly evil.

They walked through the main house first, which Omi found rather nice. It was a comfortable size: spacious but not vast, and there were plenty of windows that let in light and views of the forest. It made the structure feel more open. One end of the house had a great room with the living room, kitchen and a dining table with four chairs. A corridor along one side of the house contained the bathroom access and connected the public living space to two private rooms. One room was rather small, maybe best suited as an office or den. The larger room on the end had a bed and storage furniture as well as a sliding glass door onto a deck. From the glass door, Omi saw a doe at the edge of the trees. A doe! That was really rather amazing; Omi had never seen wildlife so up close and in its natural habitat like this. And now it was his back yard...

"It's very different from the city," he observed, though he didn't think that was inherently a bad thing. It was more beautiful and peaceful. And it just felt... comfortable.

Nagi nodded and thought nothing more of it.

Later on, he would read the BBS and find out what had really happened: that it was Nagi's own fault that Diana got blighted this morning. He would think it odd for a few minutes that Diana didn't mention anything about it to him then. If he was ignorant of the connection, then Nagi certainly wasn't going to tell him. And if he did know -- that didn't really compute. Why wouldn't he blame his shinki for making him suffer?

It was a question that would hang forever though, since Nagi was going to keep silent on his findings.

He walked the halls of the house, noting all the exits and openings that could be infiltrated and scanning for surveillance devices. It must be a reflexive thing, since it wasn't as though he sensed a specific danger. He did think he ought to be wary though, based on his conversations from last night. (The ones he recalled, anyway).

"Is that where you're from?" he asked.

"Yeah... I'm from Tokyo. I lived in an apartment over a flower shop."

They visited the second building next, which was nearly identical to the main one, only smaller. That worked out nicely, since it answered the question of where Nagi could stay. If the residence had two homes on it, they could each stay in one and have their own space. Omi could lock his doors at night and... just try not to think about how effortlessly Nagi could get in anyway by telekinetically unlocking them.

"It looks like this is a fully furnished home... Will this work for you?"

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