thenearshore | Enthusiasm (n.), orig. the state of having a god within

Entry tags:

Enthusiasm (n.), orig. the state of having a god within

Who: Gojyo (

erogappa), Kurama (

ivegotasword)
What: Retrieving a missing god
When: Forward-dated to the afternoon of May 11th
Where: Starting in Sapporo, Near Shore
Warnings: Overblown drama, suicide attempt

Sapporo, Japan

It wasn't the right restaurant. He knows his shrine, the special spot, the door to heaven, and it's in a Greek restaurant. He can't read Japanese -- not on his best day, and today is far from that -- but he knows the smell of the place by now. After this last week, he'll never get the smell of Greek food out of his nose ever again.

He shudders, leaning heavily against the chilly cement side of a towering office building. The cold shocks him awake, but it's only a temporary reprieve. Sleep is hard on his heels, sleep and him and his army -- they're lurking in every shadow, behind every corner, ready to spring the instant Gojyo closes his eyes. He can't close his eyes. Not until he's safe.

But it was the wrong restaurant. He tricked him, made him think he was in Japan, in Tokyo, on the right street the right town the right planet the right universe, but he's not. This isn't where he's supposed to be.

His foot slips out from under him, exhausted muscles failing. Without any forethought he punches the side of the building, hard enough to split the skin on his knuckles and leave a brillint red smear on the mottled grey wall. The pain helps, until it doesn't. He stumbles on.

He needs to find the restaurant. He can't go home without the restaurant, but if he heads right for it, then he will know where it is. He will learn Gojyo's secrets. If he gets to heaven, then he'll kill everyone. Gojyo tucks his bleeding hand into his stomach. It hurts. He can't remember why -- he must have been fighting. They keep trying to catch him, drag him back. He won't let that happen.

The wind whispers as it zips through the city streets, airy voices that promise a failed hunt and a swift and brutal recapture. He has to run, but running is impossible. Walking is impossible; he stumbles, catching himself on the edge of a dumpster. He can't keep going.

He'll rest then, okay. Just for a few minutes. In the alleyway behind a Layton Station, Gojyo tucks himself into a ball and tries desperately not to fall asleep.

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In his life, a powerful psychic described his natural spirit awareness as "unparalleled." As a child, he could sense ghosts, detecting their presence as a cold tingle down his spine while he was awake, and even confronting them at night in his dreams. You'd think such a talent would be pretty moot once he was dead himself, but tonight he tossed and turned as he slept, confused images filtering through his consciousness.

A Greek temple.

A crowded bazaar.

The smell of food and the feeling of being trapped.

Exhaustion. Freedom.

Fear.

Anger, resentment, determination. Suddenly, his hand hurts. In his dream, he tucks his hand to stomach, and in his bed he rolls onto his side, curling into a ball, hand tucked beneath him.

He feels as though he's falling.

The images resolve into one solid scene, a man with long red hair, crumpled behind a dumpster behind a restaurant, the busy night life buzzing in the background, and a sense of urgency in the air.

Kuwabara wakes up when he hits the floor, a startled yelp slipping out of his mouth. Automatically, he pushes himself up on to his hands and knees, and for a moment, disorientation sweeps over him. He could have sworn he was someplace else... a restaurant... Or was that just a dream?

No, shit, wait, that was a Dream! He's had them before, even if he can't remember them now, he knows he has! There's someone- there's a person in trouble!

He doesn't bother to put on any clothes, he simply bursts into Kurama's room in his boxers and tank top, slamming the door open as he shouts, "KURAMA."

"Kurama, I had a DREAM, we gotta DO something!"

Kurama's own sleep, mercifully sound up to this point, comes to an abrupt end in the face of Kuwabara's all-over loudness. His alertness, however, is slow to catch up, and rather than jumping immediately back to what might be important enough to merit such a wake-up call, he sits up and focuses his bleary gaze on his resident weirdness detector.

"What kind of dream?"

"Someone from the Heavens was kidnapped!" He starts moving into the room, half ready to haul Kurama from bed and throw him over his shoulder if he didn't get with the program, then he pauses. "Well, godnapped, maybe. Anyway, he's free now, but he's lost and confused and he needs someone to come get him, so let's go!"

Kidnapped is what finally wakes Kurama up properly--does this mean they know where Gojyo is? Not that it matters at the moment: if Kuwabara is having dreams worth yelling about, it never pays to ignore them.

He's out of bed in an instant, slipping his freshly-charged phone into the pocket of his pajama pants and putting a hand on Kuwabara's arm, and then they're up by the trapdoor stairs. "Put some shoes on and tell me where we're looking."

Edited (motherFUCKING icon) 2016-10-27 18:51 (UTC)

Teleporting takes the bottom out of Kuwabara's stomach, and for a moment he fights back the urge to hurl, covering his mouth with his hand. Then he drops to the ground, shoving his shoes on his feet quickly. "Japan. Somewhere in downtown Sapporo, I think. I didn't see any street signs, and the signs on buildings were too blurry to read, but I'm sure once we're down there, I'll be able to sense his presence again, he was practically yelling."

He pauses once his laces are tied, brow furrowed and biting his lip. "He was really freaked out, Kurama. He thought someone was chasing him, trying to use him to get into Heaven. This might not be easy."

Kurama pulls his own shoes on a little more quickly, used to the teleportation process by now, and is ready to go when Kuwabara warns him of their potential problem. Is it a legitimate threat, merely a delusion, or somewhere in between?

They can deal with that when the time comes. For now, they have a god to find. "Between the two of us, I'm sure we'll be able to keep him safe regardless. Now hold on, I'll need you to tell me where to head next." He takes Kuwabara's arm again, gives him a moment to brace himself, and then they're on a sidewalk in downtown Sapporo.

It's not as bad the second time around, especially not when he knows it's coming. This time, when they land, all he has to do is swallow back a bit of bile at the back of his throat.

Kuwabara wants to take off right away, but instead, he steadies himself and closes his eyes, sending out his spiritual awareness as far as he can. He's not looking for Gojyo's presence, exactly, he wouldn't know it from Joe, but the feelings should be strong enough...

A wave of disorientation washes over him and he staggers a bit before shaking his head, pointing down the street. "It's this way, c'mon!"

With that, he's off.

He can hear them. Them, on the opposite roof, scurrying with their clawed feet, whispering under their breaths as they hunt for him. He huddles down further into the grime and cold wet muck at the base of the dumpster, cautiously tugging a cardboard box over his head. They're youkai, up there on that roof. Mad youkai, snarling and salivating for humans to feed on. He should go out there, fight them. Stop them. Save all these passers-by, all the laughing people he can hear on the street. All those children.

But it's a trap. If he reveals himself, if he summons his weapon, then he will know that Gojyo lied to him. He will know there's more powers, more abilities left to steal. He will slice everyone up, turn them into ayakashi, make them sleep forever. A few humans, or the world.

Gojyo sinks his teeth into his lip. It's a bad choice, it's the wrong choice, but there's no right one. They're getting closer, their voices louder, the tik-tik of their claws chiming against the pavement, against the metal of the dumpster itself. He holds his breath.

The first hints of Gojyo's scent confirm Kurama's suspicions. He lets Kuwabara continue to lead the way, trusting his spirit sense to find the quickest path where his own nose might easily be delayed by any meandering, but it wears on his nerves all the same: it's been nearly a week since Hakkai said Gojyo went missing, and from what Kuwabara said he's probably in pretty rough shape, but haste will only run the risk of making things more difficult.

Finally they're standing in front of an alleyway, and even without the smell of kappa it would be impossible to ignore Gojyo's energy, weak but extant. Kurama shoots Kuwabara a look before stepping into the alley. "He knows me, but I'm not sure that'll matter if he's in a bad enough state, so follow my lead," he says quietly, and then, louder so he can be heard all down the alley, "Gojyo, it's Kurama. I've come with a friend to help you."

"Man, he's so scrambled," Kuwabara murmurs, leaning against the wall nearby, one hand pressed to his forehead. He can keep himself separate from what Gojyo's feeling, but he can still feel it, and it tears him up inside. "What happened to him? God, I wish I was around sooner, I could've sensed him, I could've... I could've done something..."

Somebody calls his real name, and Gojyo shrinks even further into the pile of trash. They know. They know his real name. He only ever called him Dionysus, but how much did he pull out of Gojyo's head when they were tangled together?

The panic has set his heart pounding again, tired nerves burning with adrenaline. What should he do? What can he do? Can he fight? If he loses he's captured, he's lost, everyone's dead, and he's got spells. He's got magic that Gojyo can't fight. Can he run? They'll snag him from behind, net him, shoot him down, shoot his legs, he'll fall, they'll have him. Stay hidden? But they know he's here. This cave isn't safe, they're tapping on the inside of the dumpster, everyone's pointing at him, they know he's here, and he shoves a hand into his mouth to stop the whimper. His hand hurts; copper floods his mouth.

He could die?

They can't have his magic. They can't have his teleporting. If he's caught they'll take it all from him, but they can't do anything with a body, can they? If he's dead, then everyone's safe. ...But he can't even do that, can he? He doesn't have a gun or a knife. Shakujyo's too big, he'd need too much room to swing it. He bites down on his hand in frustration -- he can't even die right.

Can't die. Can't fight. Can't hide. Can't run. Can't be taken. Can't. Can't. A horn blares from the road, down at the far end of the alley, and Gojyo's head jerks around. Cars can hit people. That's a death!

He leaps out of the pile of trash, hands up over his face to protect against their weapons and claws, and he takes off running as fast as his wobbling legs will carry him for the street.

He barely has time for a comforting hand on Kuwabara's shoulder before a figure springs out of the trash, long hair and skinny frame and energy identifying him where the dim light of the alley fails. He's running away from them, toward the other end of the alley, so he must not be in a frame of mind to recognize help.

"The important thing is that you caught wind of him when you did," he says to Kuwabara. "Now help me catch him, and we'll figure out the rest later." Then he's at the other end of the alley, arms spread for the chance to grab at Gojyo if he tries to get past.

"We're not here to hurt you."

It's hard to focus on Kurama's words with the feelings Gojyo is throwing at him. He knew he was supposed to be a strong psychic, but he hadn't been picking up stuff like this at all so far. He's looking at Kurama's face, but all he can see is the image of car slamming into a body. It rattles him sharply, for reasons he can't explan, but he knows that he can't.

He can't let something like that happen again.

"Kurama, I think he's gonna try and kill himself," he whispers just before Gojyo takes off.

Then Kurama's gone, teleported out in front of him, and Kuwabara is left to pull himself together and chase after the poor, fractured god. When he gets close enough, he moves to catch Gojyo by the arms so he can hold him back.

The end of the alleyway bobs dizzingly, but Gojyo manages to keep his feet under him, boots pounding on the pavement. He's going to make it. Just through that frame at the end of the tunnel and he'll be safe. He's almost there.

But his luck can't last -- he should have known it wouldn't work. There's a man at the end, blood pouring down from his scalp and his claws outstretched. Behind him, more footsteps, another man (or two? Or three? Or twenty?) right on his heels. He can't go forward and he can't go back. Can't.

He comes to a halt, spinning immediately with a closed fist to try and backhand the one following him. His eyes roll madly in his head -- he's clearly seeing things that aren't there. "No!" he roars -- he'll punch as long as he can, kick when it's an option, bite and headbutt and twist. Anything to get free, to get away.

A part of Kurama is relieved when Gojyo turns away from him, even if it is to lash out at Kuwabara. He uses the moment to pluck a few morning glory seeds from his hair and scatter them behind himself, feeding them energy until they spring to life in a tangled wall of vines and greenery and white flowers.

"Kuwabara, be careful!" It'll be easier if they divide their efforts, but that will require Kuwabara balancing his survival instinct and empathy for once instead of letting the latter win out. If he can keep Gojyo busy for just a moment longer, Kurama should be able to bind him without hurting him.

Taking the hit from Gojyo is not the worst thing he's done today. It's hard enough to knock his head to the side, but he can say with complete confidence that Urameshi hits significantly harder.

"It's fine, I've got it!" he calls back, moving once again to try and grab Gojyo. The god is lashing out violently, but weathering hits is something Kuwabara's good at, and with as exhausted as he is, Gojyo is not hitting as hard as he could be. He just has to keep Gojyo in one place, just has to keep him from slipping through, and everything will work out.

It's a good thing for Kuwabara that Gojyo's having the worst day ever, or that punch would have done a lot more than just knock his head back. But he's constantly being distracted by all the enemies around him.

He can see them out of the corner of his eye -- the crouching figure against the wall, the man clinging halfway up the wall, the faces chittering from the shadows. When he looks at them head-on they camoflauge themselves into trash and water stains and exhaust pipes, but he knows what they are. He is using his magic to disguise them, but he can't fool Gojyo. He ignores the boy with the ridiculous hair and flings himself backwards, trying to claw his way through the illusionary forest that's appeared at the end of the alley.

That's one thing going fairly well. Kurama twists the vines back in and begins twining them around Gojyo's limbs and body, strengthening them just enough to keep from snapping under a particularly vicious tug without dismembering their captive. Just a little longer and he'll have a nice, comfy green cocoon to go home in.

Gojyo's back. Gojyo's back: Hakkai comes close to fumbling his phone as he stuffs it back into his pants pocket and bolts for the front door of the temple. Two days had him on edge. It's been the better part of a week now, and his nerves have frayed to the point that he'd even snapped at Asshole this morning for cleaning the wrong part of the hallway.

But he's back. He's alive. If Hakkai's reading between the lines of Kurama's brief text correctly, not well, but that can wait until he gets here. Rest, food and healing will help.

And once Gojyo is settled, Hakkai plans to take care of whoever was responsible for his disappearance personally. And permanently. He pushes open the door, already looking for the two gods as he blinks against the bright sun.

"I'll kill you," Gojyo promises, bloodshot eyes trying to focus on Kurama's face. He's one of his creatures -- what else could he be, with that blood-soaked hair and snapping fire instead of eyes? -- but even a demon had to care about its own existence, right? "He'll kill you. Make me kill you." His voice trails off, head dropping forward briefly in his verdant restraints as Gojyo falls briefly asleep. It only lasts a second, though, before he snaps his head back up with a gasp.

"He'll kill all of you!" he screams, struggling anew at the vines wrapped around him. But his movements are weak and uncoordinated, his mutterings incoherent. Everyone's going to die. He wants to rain down fire, turn to world to a cinder, enslave and massacre and spread ruin across the whole face of the planet. If he thought for a second it would do any good, he'd beg, on his knees, for the demon to release him.

Wait. Did he try begging yet? He can't remember. "Please." What good would pride do him, with the world gone? "I'm begging you, don't do this."

Gojyo's mad ramblings are... uncomfortable to listen to, but Kurama endures, clenching fists around handfuls of vines and thinking about anything that isn't a little boy crying in a cave. Gojyo's a grown man, for one thing, and one who certainly didn't choose to reach this state even out of ignorance.

Maybe he'll take a turn cuddling Moonstone once Kuwabara's done with her. For now, though, Kurama crosses the distance to the front door of Gojyo's temple as quickly as possible, relieved to see Hakkai already looking for them. "Kuwabara found him after all," he says once he's close enough. Maybe that'll distract from the fact that it's the middle of the day and he's still wearing his pajamas.

Gojyo's rambling and pleading: it's more than just uncomfortable to listen to, and Hakkai's glad that in his dash to meet Kurama he hasn't heard too many of those words too clearly. I'm begging you, don't--

Where has he been?

Hakkai reaches out to lay a hand against Gojyo's unscarred cheek, hoping that the touch will help to reassure him. His cheek is almost all the skin visible to touch, with vines trussing the rest of his body like a parcel. He must have fought.

"Gojyo. You're home. You won't be hurt."

Hakkai glances up at Kurama, keeping his tone soft and reassuring despite the cold fury lurking in his eyes, and murmurs, "Where did you find him?"

Somebody touches him, and Gojyo jerks back as much as he's able, a broken string of no no no under his breath. But the figure standing next to him is familiar -- maybe it's the god/shinki bond, maybe it's that gentle touch, or maybe it's just that Gojyo will always know Hakkai, always, in this life and every one after -- and Gojyo heart leaps into his throat.

"Hakkai?" He's saved. He's delivered, Hakkai's here, it's okay! But he's still restrained, and the bloody-headed demon is still there, trembling and gesturing in the corner of his eye. Frantic, Gojyo turns his face to Hakkai.

"Run." He's never meant a word more. "Don't let them take you, put you inside people, they'll make you do bad bad bad things, run, please."

Kurama suddenly feels quite distinctly like he's intruding, but there's not much to be done about it when he's got half of this tender reunion tied up. At the very least it's more sweet than awkward, seeing Hakkai all ready to rampage on Gojyo's behalf, and Kurama's own blank expression softens.

"He was hiding in an alley in Sapporo, over on the Near Shore." There's more to be said--it seems Gojyo's doing some of the saying already--but that can wait a moment. "Would you like to take him? It might calm him down a little."

"Yes," Hakkai says. "You can let him go." Untying him might help to dispel whatever nightmare he's seeing -- and, Hakkai's certain, even if Gojyo tries to run or fight again, he's in no shape to give Hakkai trouble like this.

Sapporo. Near his shrine? He looks down at Gojyo's frantic, vague-eyed face. He'd checked there. He'd checked more than once, but from what he's saying (inside people?) perhaps he wouldn't have even if that were whatever area he'd been in.

"We don't need to run," he said quietly to Gojyo, and let a little bit of that protective chill seep from his expression into his voice. "No one is taking either of us anywhere."

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Enthusiasm (n.), orig. the state of having a god within

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[May 11, Dionysus' temple]

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