As the day goes by, reality has started to set in.
Rosho is somewhere alone, surrounded by people he doesn’t know.
It’s a heavy burden to accept. He doesn’t want to accept it, not when he’s finally found such great happiness back home. Sasara was in his life again, and together they were chasing a dream once more. But even after looking over the contacts in the phone given to him once, twice, three times, he doesn’t see Sasara’s name. He doesn’t even see Rei’s name, though he won’t admit out loud that he looked for him, too. The bastard was suspicious at best, but all three of them were a team in the end, and Rosho would be lying if he said he had never enjoyed his company.
There’s not a lot he can do. Well, that’s probably not true. This city he’s found himself in is, admittedly, beautiful, and there seems to be quite a thriving economy. Rosho’s just not sure what to do.
He decides to take a walk, if only to familiarize himself with his surroundings. If not for the strange circumstances, this is a place Rosho wouldn’t mind living, if given the choice. But as it stands now, it’s hard to appreciate his surroundings when anxiety sits in his chest so heavily.
He’s trying to quell said anxiety when a voice speaks, and he turns to see a child approach him. He’s likely in his early teens, and Rosho is certain he’s seen him before. There’s a moment where it’s obvious he’s searching his memory before his brows raise in recognition.
“…Saburo Yamada?” The youngest of the three members of Ikebukero’s Buster Bros, who Dotsuitare Hompo are meant to face in the first round of the Division Rap Battle. What is he doing here? Does that mean all three of them are here? Seeing as Rosho is alone, though, there’s a high chance Saburo is, as well. Worry replaces anxiety in his chest. The thought of children being here alone doesn’t sit right with him - his roommate is a student as well. Just how many young people are here with no one to help them?
“…Ah, I’m… I’m sorry, I probably know just as much as you do. I’m assuming you suddenly woke up here as well…?”
“Who else looks like me.” He states pointedly, whereas most of his features are common - his eyes assuredly aren’t. He hasn’t seen eyes like his brothers upon anyone else. Well, there goes that idea, if Tsusujimori doesn’t know anything there’s no real reason to press upon it. Then again, he could be lying - adults had such nasty habits after all. Hiding their real face behind innocence, or care.
He doesn’t bother acknowledging the others' question - why should he? Why does the man in front of him want to know? There’s a glaring unknown, a dangerous thing, that he won’t risk again. Never again.
“Humor me.” He says dryly. “How much do you know about Radiale.” He hates having to repeat himself to adults who find it so easily to look down on children.
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