concoursec | (no subject)

Entry tags:

(no subject)

Character(s): Yuri Otani, Irvine Kinneas
Location: the quad
Rating: PG
Open/Closed/Finished: Closed
Summary: Irvine has something of Yuri's, it seems

Yuri stepped onto the quad. The air smelled sweet and slightly fecund, one last burst of summer growth before fall. There were students everywhere, some being loud teenagers all over the park benches with canned beverages and practice swords swiped from weapons classes, some couples availing themselves of corners, a few just enjoying the warm evening and sparkling stars that poked out from the dark blanket of light in a way you could only find away from the big cities.

She was hesitant though. Who was this man who wanted to meet her? He could easily be a weirdo. She had Borg with her though, on her head and on alert. So she told herself there was nothing to be afraid of.

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He could have spotted her from a mile away -- which he did, though at a shorter distance. Having arrived some minutes earlier, Irvine recognized the girl the moment she entered the Quad. The "hat" was a major giveaway, and the height at which she stood seemed about right. He'd been right: He had been her, that weekend.

Images of the "dream" came back to him like a sledgehammer to the head, and he blinked twice to get rid of the feeling. Without a second thought he headed over to her, one hand raised in greeting.

"Hey. Yuri, right? And . . . " If he recalled correctly, the hat-like creature had been referred to as Borg. "Nice hat."

But he wouldn't let on that he knew.

"You too. What wild west theme park reenactor did you rob to get that outfit?" Replied Borg in his raspy-nasal voice.

"Borg! I'm sorry Irvine-san. Please forgive whatever rude things he might say." She said with a polite, nervous bow. "Wh-what was it you wanted to talk to me about?"

Irvine was stunned, though his shock wasn't too visible on the outside. He had no idea the creature could talk. It didn't look right. Then again, he wasn't used to talking "monsters" outside of Guardian Forces.

"It's fine," he managed. For a second he contemplated not telling her and simply brushing the question off with a lame excuse. But honesty was important, and thus he stuck to original plans of being truthful. "The dream. I wanted to talk to you about the dreams."

"The dreams? What about them?" She blinked with wide, trusting eyes. This was interesting to her at least. She'd rather not have been at the mercy of these dreams. For who knew when the next one could be? She could be in the middle of class, then plunged into someone else's nightmare. She had enough of those of her own.

He touched the rim of his hat, adjusted it on his head. "I figured I should tell you . . . " He trailed off. It was her right to know, because the memory had obviously been hers. But he took a moment to wonder if that was what she needed right now.

" . . . like I said, strange dreams are practically the norm here." He finished lamely. Then: "What was yours like? In general." He didn't often ask such questions, but he did it this time anyway.

A gentleman's gesture? She wondered about that hat touching. She'd heard that a long time ago, men used to tip their hats.

"Kindof optimistic. I was reunited with someone I care about, and even though they'd changed a lot, I was glad. I wasn't me though. Why, what's it all about?"

It was also a vague gesture of nervousness on his part, though the gesture was indeed part of it.

"Exactly what you dreamed of. Someone being happy over a reunion." He was getting off-topic from what he originally intended to say, but he no longer felt it necessary to stay on track. More accurately, he didn't want to kill the mood of what she'd dreamed of. "It must have been nice."

"Oh it was!" Yuri innocently cocked her head and preempted a cutting remark from Borg about whether Irvine just liked dressing up in his trenchcoat and talking to little girls alone in the park at night. Truly the little red symbiont was a bit of a jerk. "What was your dream about, Irvine-san?"

Ah, Borg. By this point Irvine didn't want to tell her. Yet, he didn't have an excuse to offer if he didn't say anything of value. He decided on a vague answer then -- no need to say more than was necessary.

"Let's say it wasn't the happiest of dreams." He continued, "It was pretty confusing."

"Oh? I'm sorry. Do you remember any details?" Yuri was now very curious, although much too polite to outright say 'so what's your deal?'. "I hope my dream was from someone else in this school. Whoever it was seemed like a real brave, kind person."

"I remember most of it." He remembered all of it. But what was he supposed to do, point at the thing on her head and say he witnessed it go berserk? "It could have been. You might even bump into that person, sooner or later."

There was a beat, and Irvine reached over for his ponytail and raked his fingers across the strands. "About that dream . . . It was probably you." He stood straight. "No, it was you."

"I hope I d...." Her next exclamation was cut short, and she looked suddenly a lot less secure. If she'd been paying more attention, she would have recognized that nervous hair touching for what it was. Borg did. "Oh. What memory was it?"

This was it. She'd asked, and she would receive the answer -- properly, this time. First, he'd say enough to get her memory jogged: "Borg did most of the action. In the shed, there were three boys . . . "

Yuri went abruptly very pale. "Yeah...I remember." Her voice was small and struggling to get out through a suddenly constricted throat. The memory of it brought back the way she'd felt at the time.

It's not here. That's all back home. She told herself, which helped a tiny bit.

"I'm s-sorry! You shouldn't have had to have that dream!" She said, eyes beginning to water.

Poor Irvine. He'd only given her what she'd asked for.

He wished he hadn't told her. Honesty aside, already things were beginning to go down the drain. First and foremost, he had to stop the crying.

"Hey, hey, hey, Yuri! It's not your fault. Don't feel bad." Irvine paused, then continued, "And I'm all right. So, you don't have to feel responsible." He felt more responsible; after all, he'd been the one to look into her memories without her consent. That's what it had to be -- viewing memories in the form of a dream . . .

Uh oh. Too late. Those big green eyes were already filling over with tears. "It was awful...i'm sorry...I still gave you the dream..."

Borg rolled his froggy eyes. Clearly he was bored with her crying.

No, no, no. Crying was bad. Despite the urge to give Borg a look for not doing anything about her distressed state, Irvine focused his attention on Yuri.

"Like I said, it's all right. If anything, I should be the one apologizing: I saw something personal."

Borg had seen this plenty of times before. He thought it better to try to prevent her breaking down crying in the middle of a patrol.

"B-but you didn't just see it.." Which meant that he'd experienced it too. Felt all the terror she had at that moment.

For all her cowardice, she was quite considerate.

Irvine crouched down a little, stopping when he could better see her face. It was preferable to towering over the girl in a moment like this.

"Don't worry about it," he said. He gestured to himself. Though it was on a physical level, the motion indicated emotionally, too. "I'm fine. See? No biggie."

After a few sniffles, Yuri managed to get things under control. Just remembering what happened was bad enough, the idea of inflicting it on another person...

"O-Okay. Thank you for telling me this, Irvine-san."

He nodded, as a means of assurance, then stood straight back up. As long as she didn't burst into tears like he'd recalled her doing in the dream --

"No problem. I'd thought you should know . . . "

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