Difference between revisions of "Cutscene: You Hear A Noise"
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| − | IC Date: November 25th, 2010 | + | ''IC Date: November 25th, 2010'' |
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It had... been a night. | It had... been a night. | ||
Latest revision as of 02:54, 6 October 2012
IC Date: November 25th, 2010
It had... been a night.
It had to have just been some sort of trick of the ear. That's what Minako told herself, again and again, as she stepped out of the apartment complex Daisuke Itami lived at. He'd still been unconscious when she'd left him and Nagisa, the man's experience puzzling, but paling in face of what she herself had heard. --Perhaps it was just related to the Dark Hour here in some way. She readjusted the weight of the dufflebag slung over her shoulder; it was an easier way of carrying it, but the way the weight could settle, well, it could be uncomfortable. The young woman walked a few steps then stopped, just shy of the edge of the street. The headache hadn't gone away entirely, either. She reached up a hand to rub at her forehead a little with the base of her palm.
Right. She would head over to the train station, and wait for one of the late-night trains. At this hour, that'd mean... hmm, a good twenty minutes. Well, that wasn't so bad, she had time to spare, so she didn't have to run all the way there. She wasn't sure she had it in her. This exhaustion that clung to her was something else.
After slipping her headphones over her ears, Minako started to walk in the direction of the station, fishing for her MP3 player with her free hand. Power button on, now time to find a good--
She didn't even so much as cry out as she turned, as she tried to find the speaker. This stretch of road is an empty one, however. She raised her hands to her ears, hands cupping over her earphones, pressing them against her ears. The duffelbag slipped down, hanging awkwardly, heavily, in the crook of her elbow.
"N... no way..." she uttered, red eyes widened. This couldn't be happening, and yet-- Knees weakened under her, and only a sudden grab for a nearby signpost kept her from collapsing onto the sidewalk. She remained hanging there for what felt like eons, her gaze unfixedly staring down at the pavement below her. Only slowly did she finally uncurl her fingers from that sign, sore and reddened from where she'd held on, and finally start walking onwards again. It's more akin to an unconscious movement but she'd once again searched for her MP3 player, her thoughts everywhere and nowhere, and jabbed the 'next' button several times over before settling on a song.
