the first of many road trips
May. 7th, 2012 12:23 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
shishou_xiiiDate: June 12, 2043
Time: Morning
Place: A village in Hunan province, a few hours drive from Xiangtan
Characters: Hiko, Kenshin
This person, this 'Shintaro' was supposed to have shown up nearly an hour ago. He was late. Hiko glanced down at his watch irritably, then shifted his weight against the wall to get more comfortable. At least he was in what passed for shade. This fact didn't stop the bead of sweat that trickled down his neck, disappearing into the collar of his shirt. It was hot already, and the haze on the horizon, filtering out the sun and only intensifying the humidity, promised even more heat before the day was done. There were times when Hiko sorely missed his home in the mountains, where the air was clean and it never got this thick and uncomfortable.
If only the pub was open this early. Apparently, the people in this village didn't believe in drinking before noon. So he made do, leaning against the wall of the pub, which so happened to be on the shady side of the narrow, dusty street. How convenient. An old lady stumped past, a basket full of herbs strapped to her back. She gave him a curious glance. Hiko narrowed his eyes in a glare, and the woman averted her gaze and picked up her pace. Why this village of nosey folk had been chosen was a mystery to Hiko. It was out of the way, yes, but as the morning dragged on, more people were going to be out and about.
The car he'd been issued was parked around the corner, fueled and ready to go. He still couldn't figure out why he was needed to babysit an assassin. As far as he knew, they were supposed to be quite capable of caring for themselves. Traveling alone, working alone, dying alone, if things went wrong. So why an escort? Xiangtan wasn't hard to find. It was well connected with roads and even some of the remaining railways. It wasn't a tiny berg like this little pit of hell in which he was waiting.
Hiko shifted his weight again, but realized with a grimace that that had been a mistake. Moving away from the nail poking him in the back, he repositioned himself against the wall to a less dangerous spot and crossed his arms over his chest. He squinted up at the hazy sky and wondered if it would rain. The pollution was thick even this far outside the city, and sometimes it was hard to tell the dirt in the air from the clouds. Rain would be nice, he decided. If nothing else, it would be a change.
Time: Morning
Place: A village in Hunan province, a few hours drive from Xiangtan
Characters: Hiko, Kenshin
This person, this 'Shintaro' was supposed to have shown up nearly an hour ago. He was late. Hiko glanced down at his watch irritably, then shifted his weight against the wall to get more comfortable. At least he was in what passed for shade. This fact didn't stop the bead of sweat that trickled down his neck, disappearing into the collar of his shirt. It was hot already, and the haze on the horizon, filtering out the sun and only intensifying the humidity, promised even more heat before the day was done. There were times when Hiko sorely missed his home in the mountains, where the air was clean and it never got this thick and uncomfortable.
If only the pub was open this early. Apparently, the people in this village didn't believe in drinking before noon. So he made do, leaning against the wall of the pub, which so happened to be on the shady side of the narrow, dusty street. How convenient. An old lady stumped past, a basket full of herbs strapped to her back. She gave him a curious glance. Hiko narrowed his eyes in a glare, and the woman averted her gaze and picked up her pace. Why this village of nosey folk had been chosen was a mystery to Hiko. It was out of the way, yes, but as the morning dragged on, more people were going to be out and about.
The car he'd been issued was parked around the corner, fueled and ready to go. He still couldn't figure out why he was needed to babysit an assassin. As far as he knew, they were supposed to be quite capable of caring for themselves. Traveling alone, working alone, dying alone, if things went wrong. So why an escort? Xiangtan wasn't hard to find. It was well connected with roads and even some of the remaining railways. It wasn't a tiny berg like this little pit of hell in which he was waiting.
Hiko shifted his weight again, but realized with a grimace that that had been a mistake. Moving away from the nail poking him in the back, he repositioned himself against the wall to a less dangerous spot and crossed his arms over his chest. He squinted up at the hazy sky and wondered if it would rain. The pollution was thick even this far outside the city, and sometimes it was hard to tell the dirt in the air from the clouds. Rain would be nice, he decided. If nothing else, it would be a change.
no subject
Date: 2012-07-13 01:17 pm (UTC)Rice paddies slipping past the window, the road unwinding in front of them, the steady thumping under the dashboard that was beginning to grate on Hiko's nerves. The humming, however, was what kept Hiko from reaching out and stopping the steadily thumping feet. He recognized that tune. Some television show; he couldn't remember what. Just that the theme had a tendency to worm its way into one's brain, as the kid was currently demonstrating. Hiko resigned himself to the certainty that he, too, would have the song running through his head in the future. Lovely.
The tune changed, and he found himself listening, a little fascinated. The words that slipped out of the kid's mouth, though, had him nearly recoiling. Whatever that song was, it was entirely too appropriate for all of them, but especially the children. It didn't set well with Hiko to hear it directed near him, even if it wasn't even actually directed at him. It felt wrong, comforting words coming from a child. Children were the ones to be comforted. But in their present reality, what difference did it make anyway?
Hiko resolved to ignore the boy next to him with his nostalgic songs and banana chips, but then he was smushing his face up against the glass, and he knew there was going to be a pint-sized face smudge on his window. Last thing he needed was a reminder of this particular assignment. He opened his mouth to kindly suggest the kid remove his face from the window but was beaten to the punch by an ox.
"Day like today, the water would be hot as bathwater, that old lady isn't stooping for her health, and oxen stink." Wait.
"Oi. Shishou?"
Where the hell had the kid found a name like that? He wasn't a teacher, just the transport and guard, he supposed. Ferry the kid to go kill a certain person, collect him when the deed was done. There was nothing even remotely nurturing or educational about their assignment.
On the other hand, the name touched something in Hiko that he wasn't about to explore under such circumstances. He looked down at the boy, dwarfed by the seat, by Hiko's own bulk, and was struck by a sense of protection, familiarity, and all of it was tainted by the wrongness of their situation. Neither one of them should be here, but another time, another place. It didn't make any sense. However, for longer than Hiko cared to contemplate, a lot of things didn't make any sense.