Kino woke up in front of the amusement park gates with no memory of how she came to these gates in the first place. She knew she wouldn’t set up camp here since there was likely a hotel nearby. Also, there wasn’t a tent or a campfire or anything to indicate that she’d picked this spot for camping.
There was only one logical explanation for this: she was attacked and rendered unconscious in front of the park gates.
Frantically, she looked around for signs of a struggle and her motorcycle (and trusted travel partner), Hermes. Hermes was nowhere in sight, and there was no blood, and she didn’t ache, and there were no discarded weapons on the ground, either. Speaking of weapons, she quickly patted herself down to check for her multitude of knives and guns. Much to her dismay, she only had the Cannon now. She assumed her attacker ran off with her other weapons… and possibly with Hermes as well.
But something didn’t add up. If she had been attacked and knocked unconscious, she would hurt, right? And she didn’t. Hermes had always gotten on her about eating right, and he expressed concern when she skipped meals. Perhaps she fainted from hunger because she didn’t listen to him? But how would that explain her memory loss and her missing items?
She decided her best bet would be to ask one of the park workers, probably the ones at the entrance kiosk, if they had seen what happened and knew what became of her missing things. However, when she entered the park, the gates slammed shut behind her, and before she could say anything to the person running the kiosk, a map was shoved into her hands. It had “Room #406” written at the top, along with the name of the hotel. Like they had been expecting her.
Maybe, if they were expecting her, some of her things were already in the park? She asked about Hermes and if he was in her room, but the person looked at her with a vacant expression. After a couple more questions, she quickly determined that she would get nowhere with this kiosk worker and decided to take her questions elsewhere.
She ventured a little ways into the park, but not far from the entrance, she came across a person who seemed to be having a pleasant enough time. She hated to bother this stranger, but her current situation was kind of urgent. She waved them down and started with, “Hey. Excuse me, but… do you know where they would keep motorcycles and other vehicles like that? Mine seems to be missing.” She was unable to keep concern out of her brown eyes and urgency out her voice, but it was understandable, at least! Anyone would be scared if one of their friends went missing. ”I really need to know right now. He’s extremely important to me.”
Right now, finding Hermes was the priority. Maybe if she solved that problem, the other problems would solve themselves. Unlikely, but it was worth a try.
An old world's hold on you, relinquished: the feeling of arriving at the park, released from sudden blackness while one's own familiar burdens are unwillingly divested. Yamamoto knows the sensation well - quite a few others he's talked to have affirmed it with chilling intimacy - and, if he were as eloquent as some such companions, he might call it something of an alien shiver that radiated from one's core out, thundering through lungs and heart with spasmic heels. As it is, he knows it as a lurch! of the gut and the flash! of instinctive fire, wordless but visceral; he recalls a glimmering chain disappearing (Flame sputtering) from round his neck, far less notable than a vehicle but - just as significant, as treasured, as symbolic of everything he has had the wild fortune to encounter and overcome.
It's due to that particular disappearance (of the physical manifestation of his heart, his conviction) that Yamamoto had, for a time, wondered whether he'd ever really woken up from that hospital bed, weeks ago, haze of oxygen tinting flickering vision. However, his senses have confirmed time and again: he is alive. He is also not dreaming. Therefore, there will be time yet to sort out: exactly what had happened, how, and why it had resulted in his arrival in this eerie not-Japan.
He moves even now with the reassurance this instinctive faith offers.
Despite the absence of a proper baseball team or 'mafia family' to train alongside, he's found regular rounds about the park both fairly informative and anxiety-absolving. Paired austere front gates are but one stop along the way, atmosphere overhead benevolent and mild.
Around here, park staff throng as thickly as confused patrons, ever-enthusiastic but entirely unhelpful when it comes to real answers. He sidesteps most, vision flitting from face to face casually. He's learned the hard way that being pulled into their machinations can be - unpleasant. At the same time, he finds it in himself to stop and take a look around. On one shoulder Kintoki's length weighs heavy (for something that seems mere bamboo): a final step forward, a hum of thought, and it becomes clear that Yamamoto's accepted its heft long ago, modifying even strides to account for its sway with natural grace.
Yamamoto also possesses a wry way of letting his mouth close only loosely, suggesting a bright word or breathy chuckle just beyond the rim of his pale pink lip. At Kino's wave, those very two things tumble out - accompanied by a quirk of one brow, a straightening of his lean spine as he steers closer to his sudden companion.
"Ah, sorry! You said - a motorcycle?"
Truthfully, he's most accustomed to multitudes on foot. It is an amusement park they're trapped in - but it's a captivity he suspects, studying the murky disquiet of Kino's focused gaze, is quite new to the person before him. (True, it doesn't really suit him entirely either.) His voice softens; the request's urgency draws his chin up, eyes cast about even as one set of fingers grapples for a map in a deep pocket.
"I'm sure he's okay," comes accompanied with a hand extended in comforting calm. "Did you get a map yet? Have you taken a look at that, um...?"
Midway through unfurling his own map, Yamamoto pauses. Fixes the other with the telltale, quirked gaze of someone searching for a name.
areudirty
gummygunk
germansingergirl
dailybridgerton
tangentwithtanner
ellievsbear
amandla
theartofmadeline
gamechangershow
