It was well into evening by the time Kenshin stirred himself to get off at his stop. He stumbled his way out of the nearly empty car and tripped over the gap, nearly falling on his face. That jolt was hardly enough to wake him. He needed....
There...a vending machine with coffee. Energy drink. He pulled coins from his pocket which he dropped, once, twice, with shaking fingers before he managed to get them in. Pressed the buttons. The drink fell with a cold clatter. (Convenient these days, isn't it?) He took the heated can, jogging it in his left hand as he got on the escalator and went up and up into the dark hazy night, the cold wind trash along the ground. The stars were fuzzy and hard to see and the moon was low and swollen.
Kenshin waited until he was safely off the escalator and popped the lid, leaning against the building to chug it down, hating the sweetness of it and the artificial sugar flooding through him, twisting through him, leaving a bitter taste in his mouth. Just needed to get home. That was all.
Home. He breathed a laugh at the thought. Sour little room he was stealing.
The caffiene hit him gradually, making him jittery. He could feel eyes staring at him. Jabbing into the back of his neck. It was just his imagination. Just the caffeine. Just the day. Still, he started toward the squalid little room at a clipped pace. Every sound made him jump. Every car passing by made him want to reach for Kitetsu. He gritted his teeth. He couldn't go on this way. It was a fifteen minute walk to to the room and he had to get there without killing anyone.
With a curse he dug his own phone out of his pocket and flipped it open, flipped it closed again. Closed. Open. Closed. Open. click. click. clickclickclick
No. He clenched his hand over the phone. He had to stop. People would see. He jammed his hand into his pocket. Heard someone come out of an alley. Heard the steady beat of a footpad. Kenshin imagined killing him and let the thought roll through him, carry the tension in his shoulders, buzz through the air. The footsteps faltered and stopped. Good.
He was tired of blood. Tired of everything. But not tired. Too awake in this savage world. Too many people. Always too many people. They were all around him. Filling the towering buildings like roaches. So many. All watching him. Waiting for him to destroy or be destoryed themselves. He couldn't save them all. Couldn't even save the people he met on the street. Could only slaughter.
You did it...
"Shut up!"
A group of homeless stopped and stared. Kenshin hadn't even noticed them. He just had to get home. Get home. Once he got there, then he could think again.
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2012-04-14 01:11 am (UTC)There...a vending machine with coffee. Energy drink. He pulled coins from his pocket which he dropped, once, twice, with shaking fingers before he managed to get them in. Pressed the buttons. The drink fell with a cold clatter. (Convenient these days, isn't it?) He took the heated can, jogging it in his left hand as he got on the escalator and went up and up into the dark hazy night, the cold wind trash along the ground. The stars were fuzzy and hard to see and the moon was low and swollen.
Kenshin waited until he was safely off the escalator and popped the lid, leaning against the building to chug it down, hating the sweetness of it and the artificial sugar flooding through him, twisting through him, leaving a bitter taste in his mouth. Just needed to get home. That was all.
Home. He breathed a laugh at the thought. Sour little room he was stealing.
The caffiene hit him gradually, making him jittery. He could feel eyes staring at him. Jabbing into the back of his neck. It was just his imagination. Just the caffeine. Just the day. Still, he started toward the squalid little room at a clipped pace. Every sound made him jump. Every car passing by made him want to reach for Kitetsu. He gritted his teeth. He couldn't go on this way. It was a fifteen minute walk to to the room and he had to get there without killing anyone.
With a curse he dug his own phone out of his pocket and flipped it open, flipped it closed again. Closed. Open. Closed. Open. click. click. clickclickclick
No. He clenched his hand over the phone. He had to stop. People would see. He jammed his hand into his pocket. Heard someone come out of an alley. Heard the steady beat of a footpad. Kenshin imagined killing him and let the thought roll through him, carry the tension in his shoulders, buzz through the air. The footsteps faltered and stopped. Good.
He was tired of blood. Tired of everything. But not tired. Too awake in this savage world. Too many people. Always too many people. They were all around him. Filling the towering buildings like roaches. So many. All watching him. Waiting for him to destroy or be destoryed themselves. He couldn't save them all. Couldn't even save the people he met on the street. Could only slaughter.
You did it...
"Shut up!"
A group of homeless stopped and stared. Kenshin hadn't even noticed them. He just had to get home. Get home. Once he got there, then he could think again.