Hajime Aikawa (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
chalicejoker) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
mayfield_rpg2012-10-23 10:05 am
chalicejoker) wrote in mayfield_rpg2012-10-23 10:05 am
Entry tags:
11
[A - Backdated to Monday, Around Town]
[There's only one way to put it: Hajime's been droned out of his mind. He's unnaturally cheerful today, and he's very dedicated to his job as a butcher. You might find him around his house at 2239 Stevens, or you might find him out and about town at work or taking a leisurely walk through the park.
No matter where you encounter him, he's smiling far too much and far too unnaturally, as well as looking a little glazed-over.]
[B - Early Tuesday Morning, the Park]
[Hajime suddenly awakes very early that morning, well before sunrise, with the sudden realization that he went home, but now he's back in Mayfield. At the same time, the memories he'd been working with as a drone are pushing in, insisting that the other world he remembered, the one he thought he'd gone back to, was a lie.
The roar of a motorcycle engine cuts through the early morning silence as Hajime essentially flees the house. He needs to get away from there.
Hajime can be found in the park seated on a bench with the motorcycle parked next to it. He's clutching this photograph, staring off into the distance, and looking kind of haunted about something.]
[C - Tuesday Afternoon, the Butcher Shop]
[Since he'd really rather not get a full-on droning again, Hajime has dragged himself to work. He's got a killer headache, and he's still trying to cope emotionally with what happened when he somehow went home.
The headache and wrestling with two sets of memories is distracting enough that he's managed to slice one of his fingers open on accident. He's now staring at the wound in something like shock as red blood comes out. You'd think the guy had never cut himself or seen blood before.]
[There's only one way to put it: Hajime's been droned out of his mind. He's unnaturally cheerful today, and he's very dedicated to his job as a butcher. You might find him around his house at 2239 Stevens, or you might find him out and about town at work or taking a leisurely walk through the park.
No matter where you encounter him, he's smiling far too much and far too unnaturally, as well as looking a little glazed-over.]
[B - Early Tuesday Morning, the Park]
[Hajime suddenly awakes very early that morning, well before sunrise, with the sudden realization that he went home, but now he's back in Mayfield. At the same time, the memories he'd been working with as a drone are pushing in, insisting that the other world he remembered, the one he thought he'd gone back to, was a lie.
The roar of a motorcycle engine cuts through the early morning silence as Hajime essentially flees the house. He needs to get away from there.
Hajime can be found in the park seated on a bench with the motorcycle parked next to it. He's clutching this photograph, staring off into the distance, and looking kind of haunted about something.]
[C - Tuesday Afternoon, the Butcher Shop]
[Since he'd really rather not get a full-on droning again, Hajime has dragged himself to work. He's got a killer headache, and he's still trying to cope emotionally with what happened when he somehow went home.
The headache and wrestling with two sets of memories is distracting enough that he's managed to slice one of his fingers open on accident. He's now staring at the wound in something like shock as red blood comes out. You'd think the guy had never cut himself or seen blood before.]
B
It was the faint whiff of the motorcycle's engines and the treads left in the grass that drew her attention to Hajime. Her head full of Mayfield-induced bliss, she approached from the opposite side of the bench, smiling warmly.]
Mr. Aikawa! I don't usually see you out this early. Is everything alright?
[She's pretty much how she usually is, a scarf around her neck and gloves on her hands, and a slightly-not-well look to her. It was a pity, the medical condition she had, wasn't it?]
Re: B
Mrs. Goodman.
[No, that wasn't right. Not right at all. Too formal. Plus he knew she wasn't married, and they--and there goes that headache again. Hajime almost growls as he grabs at his head.]
No. Nothing's alright. It's...
[He sort of trails off and shakes his head like he's trying to clear it.]
B
Oh... have you got a headache? I hear that's going around...
[She reaches out to place a hand on his shoulder.]
I had a bit of one myself, earlier. But it passed. I'm sure yours will, too, M... Hajime.
[Her smile strains for a moment. That took effort.]
Re: B
I went for a drive to try to take care of it, but I think that just made things worse...
[His first name, the hand on his shoulder. That was...better. Things still weren't right, but...better. He manages a weak smile of his own.]
How have you been? Everything's going well? After--
[Seems like outright mentioning that volcano is a little more than he can handle right now. He's sitting down on the bench again with a bit of an irritated sigh.]
no subject
[It started off as actual scolding. But she made herself smile wider, forced a laugh into her tone and a lift to her eyebrows.
If her hand was at all useful in comforting, she'd be leaving it there.]
...after our little nature hike? I'm well enough. As much as I usually am. No new sunburns, let's be thankful for that. And you?
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You know me. I've always been a bit hopeless around the things.
[With that hand, well, every little bit helped, even if he wasn't sure why.
Just a hike, right, right...he's just going with that. He can only take so much headache.]
Glad to hear it--those looked like some pretty nasty burns. I'm fine. Takes more than getting lost in the woods to wear me out for long.
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[She comes around and sits on the bench next to him. Maybe she's not making matters better, for herself or for him, but it's not making them worse.]
A bit of rest, and we're all good as new. Glad to hear it.
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[No, it wasn't a dog, it was a tiny talking pony on a quest for some magically-appearing picture on her flank, and...okay, that would be giving him a headache under even the best of circumstances. Just as the best of circumstances would see him having oddly confusing feelings when she sat down next to him. Not that he minds.]
Not like anything really bad happens around here for long, right?
[He doesn't sound particularly convinced of that as he massages a temple.]
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[It is nice to sit here next to him. Not nicer than sitting next to her darling Keith, no, but... well... no... but...]
Nothing like that, no. Everything's perfect here. I've never been happier.
[That was just a bit too sarcastic for the town to want to accept. She suddenly flinches and hisses, a hand rising to the bridge of her nose. Well hell. If it's going to hurt her, what's a bit more hurt? Hand still upon her face, she snarls quietly.]
..if it's so perfect, then where is my Father?!
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[Hajime seems relieved to hear that outburst. It's not just him, then. He'll very tentatively try placing a hand on her shoulder, as well.]
Fight it. That's what we have to do now--fight. We need to escape this place, and--
[Getting that out was worth feeling like someone was driving a railroad spike into his brain, even if the pain made him break off in mid-sentence.]
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I won't let them take that. We can't let them take that! Take the rest, take away the rest, erase it, I'm happy, I'm happy, I'm happy here, but they can't have th....aaa-ah...!
[It's too much. She has to relent. With a whimper, then a sigh, she gives in to the happy thoughts. Her grip on his hand loosens.]
...It's such a nice town.
[And slowly, she slips her hand free from his. That sort of happiness wasn't right. She was a married woman. He was a married man. No.]
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[He cuts off again. Too much. It's just too much. If he simply maintains the realization that the Mayfield memories are fake, the headache is bearable. He's had worse. It's the effort of remembering the truth, of fighting that makes it difficult to bear for very long at a time.]
Greatest town ever.
[He seems a bit disappointed when she pulls her hand away. It was dark, no one was out there...but he can understand. What would Kreutzer say if she'd seen?]
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[She folds her hands in her lap and smiles at him weakly. Maybe now's not the time to fight it. Maybe everyone needs to fight it at once.
...that's... not a bad idea. She sits a little straighter, and lifts her head.]
I... really shouldn't sit too long. Morning's coming. Keith and the children will be waking up. And aah, I think I'll be baking tonight. Maybe tomorrow, too. I have some new recipies I want to try.
[It's easy to put some brightness in her tone when she proposes it. It's a lovely idea, and it's true, she's due to bake things, and to thank so many people....]
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[At this point, he's too used to fighting unpleasantness in his head that he'll outright quit. He will, however, back off enough so that his head will be clear enough to drive. Crashing into a tree thanks to a migraine is unbecoming of a Kamen Rider.
And she's happy, that's good, that's good...though why that concerns him so much confuses him no matter which set of memories he tries to work with.]
Baking? That sounds nice...I should get going as well--I wouldn't want to worry Kreutzer.
[And he almost sounded sincere about that last part. Almost. He's standing up now, walking back to the bike, when he pauses.]
Do you need a ride home?
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[Natalie's voice isn't saccharine Mayfield sweetness, but something plainer and far more 'her'. Maybe it's easier to speak of if the town doesn't think it's worth censoring.
She rises moments after Hajime does, but doesn't immediately follow.]
...oh! On your motorcycle? I...
[Her head turns reflexively to the horizon. Oh. It's getting lighter. She'll fight the "no, no, it wouldn't be proper" that's threatening to come out, suffer through the twinge of pain, and bolt on after him.]
Yes, please, if you could....
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I'll look forward to it.
[He quickly gets on the motorcycle and starts it up, then holds out the single motorcycle helmet for her to take. A pity, the way her condition made her so sensitive to the sun...good thing there wouldn't be much traffic or many people out at this time.]
Just get on and hold on tight. I'll get you home safely.
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[A very important question, that. She hesitates a moment before reaching out to take the motorcycle helmet, then plunks it down on her head with a minimum of awkwardness. Though there's quite a bit of poofy hair sticking out from the bottom...]
Thank you, Hajime. We take turns getting each other home safely, don't we...?
[Already, fake Mayfield memories were drifting in to cover up the volcano and the limping walk home with something more mundane. But it had still happened, hadn't it? So there. Hup, she's up on the bike, arms around him, unselfconscious. It's important to get home, no matter the way.]
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[He's got to smile now. He remembered the aftermath of the volcano, even if he couldn't focus too strongly on it lest the headache become bad enough to interfere with operating the motorcycle.]
That we do. Hang on.
[Once he thinks she's settled in and hanging on, he'll rev the engine and start driving towards her house. He's rather pleased to have her hanging on to him like that, which he should probably be feeling guilty about...but he's not. He's still driving a bit faster than he should, probably because some part of his Mayfield memories has informed him that motorcycles are a good way to show off for women...]
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[Maybe she couldn't think too hard on the exact reasons that cookies were needed, but the superficial feelings were fine. If a little bit guilt-inducing. Hopefully Keith wouldn't mind his wife being driven home by an old friend of hers...]
...eee!
[...and he'd never have to know how tightly she's holding on through all that show-offy speeding up, too.]
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But Kreutzer never needed to know about this...and he was certain he'd be able to handle things well enough if Keith badly took offense to the ride. Hadn't he threatened to beat the man once before? He couldn't think on it too hard, not while driving. Maybe it had been right before she'd gotten married...or right after...he was just being a protective friend, right?
Hajime's made good time on the bike, and he's slowing down as they get closer to her house. Here's hoping the sound of the engine didn't wake the neighbors.]
You doing all right back there?
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I-I'm fine! I haven't done much riding on motorcycles...
[Those memories weren't real. She'd take a headache over the fluttery and false conflicted feelings that the fake memories were resulting in. So when he finally does come to a stop and she pops the helmet from her head, she's grimacing.]
Thank... thank you for the ride home. It'll be our little secret...?
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[It's funny, he remembers taking her for a ride back in high school, even though he's pretty sure he only got the bike back a couple of weeks ago... There's another spike in the headache again.
He looks a little concerned at her grimace, and he gives her a nod, as well as a small smile. Despite that lingering feeling of falseness, even he's aware of possible unfortunate implications.]
No one needs to know.
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[Natalie could suddenly remember such a ride, too. Oh, such wild younger days they had. Or thought they had. She rubs at the bridge of her nose, fighting off the incoming headache, stepping slowly away.]
Goodnight, Mr. Aikawa.
[She gives him a small and sort of sad smile, then a little wave of her hand, before retreating to her house.]
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Goodnight, Mrs. Goodman.
[With that, he puts the helmet back on his own head and spins the bike around a little more quickly than he needed to. Getting out of there quickly suddenly seems like a good idea...
...and he pops a wheelie on his way down the street. Perhaps it's a physical act of venting the confusion he's feeling right now...or perhaps he's just trying to show off again for reasons he still can't really explain.]