YOU AINT EVER REALLY WANTED AROUND HERE.

Haruka's starting to learn the hard way that living on his own is a lot tougher than he'd imagined - not that he really had much time to think before he ran away. It was a panicked decision in the wake of a horrible crime, one he still has nightmares about - but he thought it wouldn't be so bad. His isolation made it so he had very little knowledge of how the world outside his family home worked, and the storybooks his mother used to read to him made it seem like the world was a kind place, and his experience was just some aberration. It didn't take him long to figure out just how wrong he was, though - walking from place to place takes a long time. It's exhausting, especially when living on scraps. Everything costs money, and people aren't willing to give that away so easily. Sometimes you have to do scary things to get it, and sometimes you just have to take without asking.

It's not the life he wanted, and sometimes he wishes he could go home, but he can't. He just can't... At least the people out here will look at him, sometimes. He can take some small comfort in the fact that he isn't completely invisible.

Gas stations have become somewhat of a place of security for him - less busy than the intimidating aisles of the grocery store, and it isn't odd to only buy one or two things, which is about all he can afford. He can't meet the cashier's gaze as he fumbles around for the few bills he has stuffed away in his pocket to pay for the bag of chips and soda he'd put down on the counter - not the most nutritious meal, but he doesn't really know how to feed himself properly. He just gets what tastes good, what's familiar, even if it kinda makes him nauseous.

(He knows that people can’t see through him, but it still feels like they are.)

A glance down at the money tells him that no, it is not enough, and he doesn’t need to count to figure that out. But he shakes his head, pushing the change back. “It’s really not a big deal. It’s on the house.” A term that Bear had been happy when he discovered.

he's thankful that casper showed up when he did. ( whenever he's alone, bad things happen to him. ) he's holding his side, a deep wound left there from the entity jamming a jagged tree limb there. ( he had to admit that it got pretty creative whenever the only thing they are supposed to do is kill you. ) a shaky breath leaves him, eyebrows furrowing together.

they’re both just really lucky he’s not starving.

Kaneda taps his foot along to the beat of the loud music currently permeating the small, crowded venue, taking a long sip of his beer as he glances around, taking in each and every face in the audience. Not but an hour ago it had been his band on that stage - one of those nights where several small punk bands played one after the other, taking turns seeing who could get the crowd all riled up. He'd like to think that The Capsules had done pretty well for themselves - moving to the U.S. had been a big risk, but it had been fun so far, moving from town to town and playing whatever gigs they could get. The audience seemed to enjoy it enough, at least, although part of him wonders if it was just the novelty of a small band from Tokyo coming all the way out here. He's not sure he cares too much either way - as long as he can live his life the way he wants to, it doesn't matter what other people think. Not that he doesn't dream about having a few devoted fans...

It's in the middle of his daydreaming that he spots her - that blonde that had fronted the band before his. She's pretty, too, with a mysterious energy about her that has him kind of intrigued. Well, it can't hurt to chat, right? Networking and all of that. Cooperation between bands. Whatever excuse he wanted to use to socialize. He runs a hand through his brunette bangs and straightens his red leather jacket as he weaves through the crowd over to her - his English is still a bit iffy, but surely that can be overlooked with enough confidence.

But of course she’s back before too long. Part of the fun of these shows was being here for the rest of it, being a part of the community as a whole. She’d gotten pretty good at that, even on nights where she didn’t feel like she was a part of anything.

Forrest couldn’t help it. He knew Robby mostly in passing, as someone who volunteered from time to time at the hospital. He’d first done so when he was a kid, avoided it for a large part of his life, and then ended up back here. Maybe the spirits did it. Or maybe he just couldn’t stay away from places people liked to die. He wasn’t sure.

Whatever it was, it had lead to the butting of heads. Or rather, Forrest noticing something was wrong and Robby refusing to say what it was. And that was fine. Except for the fact that he wasn’t the only one worried.

"I want to know what you are." The words come out bluntly, eyes narrowing. Caught unawares, his defences are up. "You're not a vampire, from what I can tell. Not a werewolf. You lack the wet dog scent."

Head tilts, gaze staring at them. "When you touched my hand, I saw you looking into my head. And when I look into your thoughts, your thinking - It is not of this time. You seem -" Brow furrows. "Lost."

Not the first time, but they think they’ll never really adjust. The power should be theirs and only theirs. It’s so unfair.

“don’t do that. don’t shut me out.” 

“you’ve been crying. i can tell.”

“we need to change those bandages and get some food in you.”

“you want me to rub your back ’til you fall asleep?”

“that was a brave thing you did today.” 

“shh, that’s okay, get everything out.”   

“there’s something on your shirt. you – that’s blood!”

“need some space?”

“you should lay down.”

“there’s nothing wrong with asking for help.” 

“shh, shh. you were having a nightmare.”

“we can talk through the door.” 

“let’s clean you up and get you to bed, okay?”

“you almost died.” 

“i brought you a blanket.”

“you’re home. you’re safe.” 

“i’m worried about you.”

“is everything okay?”

“tell me how to make it better.”

“it’s been a tough few days. how are you holding up?”

“you have to stay awake. come on, give my hand a squeeze.” 

“you’re in the hospital.” 

“think you can make it to the bathroom?”