notboxesagain:
@imperfectdcll
There was one very important detail about haunted locations that served to provide such a thrill in the masses, and that was the fact that they tended to appeal to those who already believed in something of otherworldly nature. From an entirely theatrical viewpoint, he had to admit he was impressed, and certainly his gaze wandered about to take in the impressive set, the artist within him ever searching inspiration on how to improve. But was he unsettled? Not in the least. Confident strides brought Hori through the hallways until he reached a door that embraced the numbers 308, and upon entering he mused to himself.
“ Isn’t it about time a ghost or something will jump out on me? ”
Feet traced the same pattern around the room as mismatched eyes furrowed in confused anxiety. Where was he? Mika hadn’t see hide nor hair of one Shu Itsuki since their re-admittance to the hotel. Was the other alright? Was he safe? Mika didn’t even have anything to use as a weapon; his (cursed) scissors being taken off him without warning not long after his arrival. Groaning, Mika ran a hand through already messy hair, sniffling.
Was he still being punished for what he did?
The sound of the door suddenly opening sent a thrill of both excitement and anxiety through the idol and Mika spun around, bounding for the door without waiting to see who was on the other side, arms outstretched to squeeze the newcomer. After all, who else could it be but...
“OSHI-SAAAN-- NNWAH?!”
Alas the body he collided with was not Itsuki Shu. In fact it was boy even shorter than Mika himself, a fact particularly noticeable give that Mika had nearly sent them both flying into the hall. With a shriek, the idol detached himself and retreated back to the bed, expression and voice distraught, almost yelling at the other accusingly.
“What the hell?! Yer not Shu, yer not my Oshi-san! Who are ya?!”
