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01 February 2007 @ 12:59 pm
One Morning.  
Who: Sasuke (turnmyback ) and Sai (perspicacities )
Where: A Train Station. THEN A PHONE BOOTH.
When: Thursday, 24th January; Morning
Warnings: "My God, go home" - "Yoboseyo"

“Shit,” he murmurs under his breath. “Shit.” Hands grip (hard to the point his hands ached) the metal handles (of this godforsaken train). Sasuke wasn’t sure as to why he had woken up—

  • Half-an-hour late to work.
  • With a cell phone that had no battery.
  • Dressing in a suit he wore yesterday.
  • By not drinking the suitable amount of boiling hot (soy) coffee.
  • Checked his computer to see a video of him in a ponytail.
  • And forgotten to get the wheel of his car checked (Naruto, you bastard.)

—and tried his best at just being patient. (It wasn’t working, women were ogling him; children were crying for the sake of being a nuisance; and there were just the leftovers that were skeptical about him). There was the urge to just leave the doors at the next stop (or wrong station). (Today was not the best day, if your mornings were horrible, you can assume your day won’t become much better).

But by the time the doors open, Sasuke stares; fights with himself just to see if he should let go (before he breaks the handle) and leave (this mess behind).
 
 
 
perspicacities on January 25th, 2008 05:55 am (UTC)
THAT'S RIGHT IT'S 1 AM.
More than 410 meters away (because in truth, he liked those kinds of uncanny numbers anyways—he cared not about superstition, just the strange taste of bananas in his mouth whenever he thinks of banana chips) was not someone you could really call "Sasuke's colleague" (maybe "recognized face" at the very most), but it was Sai in his stunningly plain glory—there was nothing sophisticated about him—and he walks to his destination.

That building makes lives and tears them down at the same time, he thinks, and his pale lips are pressed tightly. There are only two decisions: go in or stay out and he opts for the latter; it was refreshing outside in some strange way and feels like he is standing between a strange vortex between reality and fantasy.

(His fantasy is not a person, not a human being. His fantasy is beyond that.)

But, oh shush—Sai can see the train station in a different, new angle from here and he decides that he likes this (maybe his next line will be named "trainsgoby"—it's pathetic, what the morning air does to him. So pathetic.

Makes him want to go inside.
turnmyback on January 25th, 2008 06:12 am (UTC)
With a thinning (as thin as clear paper, as thin as the model he saw yesterday, as thin as the barrier between sanity and insanity) patience, Sasuke stands (not sit) while he waits for that stop (the stop to a place he grew to get bored of). This train goes fast, fast and he thinks maybe it’s time to stop living fast (stop capturing views in high speed, stop firing models in one glance, stop telling lies in a set tone).

Doors open, he whispers in a tone barely audible (even to himself): “Finally,” then leaves. Foot over the chewing-gum covered gaps—

(Gaps, in which you fall, plummet to the world below him;
Plummet to a negative point beneath him
)—

And ambles to the taupe gray stairs leaving that (one) morning behind and opting for his usual meticulous lifestyle. With hands in pockets, head down; he walks slowly (he can risk tardiness) and sees the sun (the bright sun that helps him to live). Blinding at first, he looks away (to a man looking back) and Sasuke starts to think to himself (like a crazy person).

‘What is he looking at?’ But he corrects himself and tells himself (in a stern voice), ‘That’s pretentious.’ Then looks back.
perspicacities on January 25th, 2008 07:22 am (UTC)
OOC: MAYBE I'M MISINTERPRETING, BUT YEAH. THIS IS WHAT I CAME UP WITH. AND GOING TO DIE, HOMGG SLEEEEP D:

Sai waves a second too late (what? he gave up his arm for nothing? a disappointment, a shame) and is hit with a wave of (anger? is it anger?)—but he is not depressed. He is still the same. He still has that enthusiastic facade up. It is perfect. The lack of zeal is not showing.

For a moment, the world stands still and unwavering in its sudden silence and everything is erased from the scene except him and—

Him. (Funny how pronouns worked. So hilarious.)

If he wags his eyebrows then will Sasuke see? (Although Sai doubts that Sasuke knows his name; he feels slightly stalkerish, this feeling is so foreign to him.) And he feels daring; he feels so filled-up with power; a faint smile is on his lips and he does not fight to keep it off.
turnmyback on January 25th, 2008 09:05 am (UTC)
Staring back to the blinding sun, he turns his head the opposite direction (with nothing to stare at besides buildings upon building with buildings upon those buildings)—and remembers he must head the other way. Glancing to the correct direction, he sees that man (yet again) and wonders (to himself) about why he’s smiling.

Hands up to wave (uncharacteristically, yet there was a force to tell Sasuke otherwise... he complies), he lowers them back down again. Notices that that (smiling, young) man is an impasse between Sasuke and the building (of which he must attend to).

Making his way towards (the building and maybe even) to him, he does not speak nor glances his way. Just walks and reviews about the past thirty shots he had taken on his black camera (the twenty-third had better lighting than the sixteenth). But those thoughts are replaced with a different image altogether.

(The image of the man smiling at him)

And it is inevitable for Sasuke, so he just questions (no, inquires). “Who are you?” (Have we met before?)

(OOC: Interpret however you want~ 8DD -is engrossed in the KiHae-)
perspicacities on January 29th, 2008 09:25 am (UTC)
Sai smiles tightly—a tight pressing of the lips, really—and lets a soft laugh pass through his lips (it's like one of those really old cliché movies).

"Annyeonghaseyo." His smile grows a little wider. "My name is Sai. And you are—"

He pauses, but not for a dramatic beginning.

(For a phone was ringing.)

(OOC: Hi, I died D: And this is just an excuse so it can be YOBOSEYO TIEMMMMMM)
turnmyback on January 29th, 2008 09:45 am (UTC)
For Sasuke, this is awkward (strange, different); though his face is still a mask (it has creases in the forehead, eyes indifferent, mouth in a straight line) and he just captures the phone (whose battery should have died).

“Yoboseyo?” he asks (and answers), and wonders why he is beginning to speak Korean ( Annyeonghaseyo. My name is Sai. And you are—).

A conversation to Hanabi about things that he doesn’t care for progresses, Sasuke hangs up after hana, dul, set. (There’s something else he’d rather focus on, not that he’d ever admit out loud).

“Do you not know who I am?” he questions (mildly offended) but why he even cares sparks internal questions. Leaning forward (to the ear of this man, breath touching skin), he whispers in a husky tone “I’m Sasuke.”

(Then comes back to his Japanese world).

(OOC: You have good timing, homgg. I was complaining about lack of KIHAE and then the phone rang when I read this. LOL. And, uh. >____> SHUTUPIDON'TKNOWWHATIWASTHINKING)
perspicacities on February 1st, 2008 05:47 pm (UTC)
They are so close now. Sai can see the breaths in the cold morning air.

He breathes.

(One.

Two.)

Manages to smile.

"Blas—phemous," he says after a heavy period of thinking (replaying scenes in his head, replaying memories in his head—his new line should be called trainsgoby, it's been decided; over, over, over) and he is speaking as if nothing happened (very big things were booming—he ignores that); he is speaking lightly, delicately, messily—all at once, his voice spills out. "Silly of me to have forgotten you."

(And the silence.)

"I've seen you. I've seen you walking. I've seen you on magazines. I suppose it should be somewhat of an honor to be standing right in right of you. Right here. Now." (Where do these sentences come from? Sai doesn't know.)
turnmyback on February 2nd, 2008 06:25 am (UTC)
Seen? The simple interjection echoes through Sasuke’s mind. Honor? Not even this certain noun was able to silence it.

But he (the one who is slightly taller, whose skin is slightly tanner, and whose hair is a darker shade of black) just opens his mouth to form a simple (indifferent) reply. “I suppose it is.” (Did he just puncture his own pride?)

Then he closely examines this man (the one who is slightly shorter, whose skin is slightly paler, and whose hair is a light shade of black), noting the name Sai to be familiar (like a faint name written amongst lined paper, like a name Naruto murmurs about in friendly distaste) yet forgettable.

(“Silly of me to have forgotten you,” It begins to ring in his mind.)

“What do you do for a living?”

(Small talk was not his strongest point and neither was deductive reasoning.

Life was not following his daily schedule.)
perspicacities on February 4th, 2008 03:25 am (UTC)
(Why? Sai asks himself.

Why not? the other half replies.)

It's not like Sai abhors this man standing in front of him; it's not like he is afraid of saying the wrong thing (speaking, in general); he is not afraid of offending some "ideal" man (the truth is that he can't see anything ideal about Sasuke at all); he is not afraid of this being in front of him. It's just that nothing comes out.

Where is his wit? Where is his offensive humor? Where is his subtle, I-have-fallen-from-grace elegance? No where to be found. (It's because he stole it, his inner child accuses, but that's not it at all.)

"I... am." A fake smile. "I am what you may call an artist." It grows bigger. "Perhaps you call it a creative person working to pay off rent." It wavers. "A fashion designer," he forces out at last (it does not at all sound beautiful). "We work in the same building."

OOC: Hi, short reply is short ;_______;
turnmyback on February 22nd, 2008 10:32 am (UTC)
If Sasuke was known to show emotion, he would have quirked an eyebrow in curiosity. But he doesn't. He (just) stands in silence as if this man hadn't said a word. Then...

(Time passes, people pass, birds of the insolent genus fly pass, all that and--)

"You could have just said fashion designer." Blatant and cold was his reply. Sasuke doesn't care if he was an artist (that's what they all were, the yesterday-worn suited Uchiha included), Sasuke didn't care if he even had rent to pay (didn't they all have to throw away their earnings?), Sasuke didn't care if this man worked in the same building (it wasn't as if he would treat this man any differently).

(But alas, there was something different; there was something—

— Sasuke couldn't quite say)

Then he opts to walk away, to the building that he works in.