capeandcowllogs | But really I'm not actually your friend

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But really I'm not actually your friend

WHO: [Bad username or site: gallitrap title= @ livejournal.com] and [Bad username or site: pillowmania title= @ livejournal.com]
WHERE: KaibaCorp, because somebody actually has a day job
WHEN: Thursday the 22nd, though before this for obvious reasons
WARNINGS: Katurian is his own warning, but at least nobody is dying here.
WHAT: A distinct lack of shanking!
WORDS: yes

[Thursday: totally mundane. Ruka's doing nothing out of the ordinary for this time of day; she's in her nice office with a nice view of the theme park (not the nicest view, of course), paying no attention to it. Instead, at her desk, sketching out plans for set of trap cards. The door is closed. She's alone in the room, the only noise coming from the occasional shifting of weight on the chair and that of the pencil on paper.]

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[There’s a stuffed lion in front of the door. It appears quite suddenly, as though it slipped in between blinks. That worn, ratty fur. That stray thread exiting its pitch black eye. That rust-colored stain on its stomach. The lion is so much older than the last time Ruka saw it.]

[She doesn't notice it at first. Or rather, she notices something has changed, but the flicker of motion at the corner of her vision is miniscule. She ignores it. She wants to get this line down properly before anything else. It's not like she missed a knock at the door, or some dire memorandum.

It's about thirty seconds later that she glances toward the closed door. Five more before she notices the lion on the ground.

That wasn't there before.

Finally she rises; the pencil rolls across the table unattended. When she gets to the door, she picks up the toy with a bewildered expression on her face.]

... What happened to you?

[She remembers this doll.]

[Knock knock, goes the sound on the door. Knock knock knock. There's a sort of empty quality to it, a sound half made out of air.

Katurian waits behind it in costume. It's a different sort of costume, though, than his usual. No fake teeth. No stains. His clothing is the softest white, even whiter than the clothing he wore nine years ago. His gloves contain no blades or poisons.]

[The noise startles her. Not for the fact it exists, but for the sound of it. A hand knocking on her door isn't supposed to sound like that. But she knows this doll, and knows who's going to be on the other side.

She opens the door and smiles up at the man with the moke-moke face.]

Hello again.

[And she steps aside, inviting him inside. She wouldn't want to have to explain to Kaiba why she was talking to ghosts in the hallway. (There's no such thing as ghosts, he'd say.)]

[He steps inside. He imagines he can feel blood underneath his fingernails, but he isn't sure, and so he-- he picks at them, automatic-- he--

His handles tremble. Once he gets inside, out of the way of the door, he crouches down with his trembling hands, with his imagined blood under his not imagined fingernails. He leans on the back of his calves.]

How are you?

[It's a whisper. There is no voice modulator. Only him.]

[The door closes quiet behind him, and Ruka has the tattered lion tucked against her, braced with one arm. A familiar pose. She's still a child now. Not as young as the first time he came to her like this, but a child all the same. It's probably good that she wears gloves, when her fingers brush at the musty mane.]

Mostly okay, I guess.

I wasn't sure if you were still around.

I'm always around. I've always been around.

[He extends a hand for her to hold. It still trembles, slightly.]

And I know when you're lying.

I know that you do. [A swallow. The smile is more self-chastizing than anything else, embarrassed, friendly. She takes the hand without hesitation.]

But you know me. I hate it when people have to worry about me. It always feels like it's worth a shot.

I know.

[His words are accompanied with a smile, audible in his voice. He swings his hand slightly. Playfully. There is something stiff about his fingers. Unnatural.]

But I won't always know. Sometimes, when I see you, I'll think a little differently. I'm different today.

[The motion is a distraction from the tremble of before; between it and the stiffness, there's a small tug of confusion at her eyebrows. Her smile shrinks in her concern.]

Different? How?

I live in time. [Casually. Easily.] Most people live in only one time at once, but I live in all of them. And sometimes - in some times - I'm younger, and I don't know anything yet. But not today.

[She looks back down to the lion, with its stained and thinning fur, its loose threads. Ruka can't count the years just from the look of it, but the years are there. If he's older and knows more but lives in all times, she thinks, he's probably seen more of what's to come than the one who's always visited her before. The lion never looked this old and the outfit this clean. The thoughtful bend stays on her brow through her seconds of silence.]

Then... it must be something very important. [Something that reaches long into time. Her cradling arm shifts, indicating the lion.] He's never looked this worn out before.

Is something going to happen?

[The humor empties from his voice.]

This city is a dangerous place. I'm quite certain both of us already know this.

Don't we, Ruka?

[She nods, solemn.]

Yeah. It always is. Though, it's gotten a lot more violent lately than usual.

It's because there are so many dangerous people here. And some of these people, they don't even seem dangerous until it's too late.

[He tries to squeeze her hand, but his fingers, stiff as they are, can't quite grip it. He brings up his left hand to cup Ruka's hand instead.]

I'm trying to stop them.

You're trying to--

[The words are slow, but the gears not so; she may not be privy to everything going on with this case, but that Ghost guy had been talking about a lack of evidence and no clues, and slowly Ruka's eyes widen in realization. Her grip on the lion tightens and she shifts closer, her hand holding tighter to the hand in hers.]

All those people... that was you?

Every person who died this week promised something awful for this city's future. Every person who died promised more death and more suffering. Because I live in time, I know everything they've done and everything they were going to do. I know everything.

[He doesn't look away. He is not ashamed of the words, he tells himself, even as he says 'died' instead of 'killed.']

We deserve a better future than that.

[Her breath catches in her throat, and Ruka ducks her head, trying to rationalize all this. The spirit that was always popping up for her -- who wasn't really a spirit, probably, she thinks -- was... what? Trying to save the future? She bites her lip, gears turning.]

All of them... who were they? I only heard a name here and there, but... if it was all you...

Some of them have already killed or tortured people over the network, like Bellatrix and the plant and Ladd Russo, just to prove that they had that power. Nothing more. Thomas Blake murdered two civillians. He tore out their throats with his own teeth. Some of the others, they were more subtle, but all of them have killed.

[He releases her hand and fumbles through his patch-work pockets. Eventually, he takes out a small handwritten note. He offers it forward.]

I have names, not only of the ones I saw. They're dangerous people, and I want you to remember them.

[Her hand shakes and clenches when he releases it, and when he offers the note she stares at it for a long moment. It's a weight, a heavy burdening weight that he's offering her -- the future of violence, of dangerous people. The way he says it, it's like a contract. Remember them. The blanks were obvious. Avoid them. Protect people from them. Stop them, if that's in your power.

Ruka swallows, afraid, holding the lion tight to her chest, and she takes the note. Flips it open. Reads the names.

Some of the names are ones she's never heard before. Many are familiar, and some she expects to be there; some she doesn't. It's those that cause her eyes to widen, and her to look up incredulous.]

All of them?

You're a very strong girl, Ruka. And you'll only get stronger.

[There is no menace in his voice, but it's deathly serious, that tone. Those words.]

I believe in you.

[It's somewhere between embarrassment and chastisement, the way she ducks her head, her eyes moving over the names again. The unfamiliar ones are going to be the hard ones. She's going to need to write them down, copy them somewhere else, in a place no one will look and a way no one can decipher. She bites her lip.]

I believe in you, too. [There's a tremble to her voice, but the words are honest. After all, he's been her friend here as long as she's been here, before all the people who have long since left her, and will be here long after the rest are gone. She can't let go of this.] And this will fix things? That went bad?

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But really I'm not actually your friend

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