Shiro, evening JST
Sep. 13th, 2009 07:30 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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xp_logsAfter this post, Shiro flees to Japan and decides to take matters into his own hands.
The flight to Tokyo was one of the worst that Shiro had ever experienced. He was nervous and twitchy the whole ride, undoubtedly aggravating his fellow passengers, like that one lady who kept asking the flight attendants every twenty minutes if they were ready to land yet while looking pointedly at Shiro. His exasperation was compounded by the fact that he had barely slept in the past two days (and not at all on the flight), as every time he shut his eyes and relaxed, he was bombarded by visions of Tokyo engulfed in flames. No one believed him but he knew they were real. They had to be. Why else would he keep seeing the same thing over and over again? He'd spent enough time with precogs to know how they functioned. Japan was in danger and only he could save his country. And he didn't need any help. He'd do it on his own and finally be recognized for the hero he was. This would be his redemption.
Assuming, of course, he could figure out where to go. The visions were never precise, they just flaunted recognizable landmarks burning to the ground, as if the Allied firebombings were renewed across the entire eight hundred plus square mile metropolis. Shiro took to the air again not long after landing, flying up almost to his personal limit where the air was thin and his fire dwindled. The entirety of Tokyo lay several thousand meters beneath his feet, quietly preparing to slumber, oblivious to the apocalypse that awaited it. Shiro roared vexedly. The gods had besought him to avert the destruction. Why wouldn't they point him in the right direction? How was he supposed to do anything without guidance?
When he landed, it wasn't anywhere near Haneda Airport. He stood at an unfamiliar T intersection in what appeared to be a small business district. He heard a shout and spun on his heel, his fists ignited and ready to attack. Then several more frightened cries were added to the first, and half a dozen young men in suits fled in all directions, screaming for the police. For what? Shiro turned again, trying to find the source of the commotion. Maybe this was it. Whatever was holding Tokyo in jeopardy was attacking now, and now was the chance to defeat it!
"Come out and fight me!" he shouted as he ignited his fire form. A bush exploded as a demonstration of his power. "I know you are here and I will not let you bring harm to my city."
Nothing responded. The street was empty now, no one even appeared in infrared. The fire form slowly extinguished, and Shiro slumped against the side of a building. False alarm. The passersby had been shouting at him. He was what had frightened them so. That confused him. Why be scared of him? He was there to protect them. To save them. He was not their destruction. Something else was.
As Shiro turned to leave, a large structure caught his attention. A white gate, a torii, stood before a big red pavilion. "Kanda Myojin," he read as he passed a marked pillar and entered the shrine's courtyard. The home of three gods, he recalled: Ebisu and Daikokuten of the Seven Gods of Good Fortune, and the deified samurai Taira no Masakado, revered for his rebellion against the Heian government a millennium ago. He stood for the people and watched over them, regardless of their political affiliation or social status. Shiro breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe he could offer Shiro the guidance he required to complete his mission.
The purification rituals in preparation for prayer were old hat and Shiro went through them methodically. As he approached the honden, the building that enshrined the gods and was off limits to the general public, two red and white-clad priests appeared on either side of him, heads inclined politely.
"Yoshida-san," he familiar voice called. A tall, slender man in traditional formal robes with hair to rival Logan's sat at the top step to the honden. He stood when Shiro saw him and stepped to the side. "Kanda Shrine awaits you."
Shiro didn't respond. He climbed the stairs and entered the building, and the writhing darkness within took him for its own.
Matsu'o Tsurayaba smiled.
The flight to Tokyo was one of the worst that Shiro had ever experienced. He was nervous and twitchy the whole ride, undoubtedly aggravating his fellow passengers, like that one lady who kept asking the flight attendants every twenty minutes if they were ready to land yet while looking pointedly at Shiro. His exasperation was compounded by the fact that he had barely slept in the past two days (and not at all on the flight), as every time he shut his eyes and relaxed, he was bombarded by visions of Tokyo engulfed in flames. No one believed him but he knew they were real. They had to be. Why else would he keep seeing the same thing over and over again? He'd spent enough time with precogs to know how they functioned. Japan was in danger and only he could save his country. And he didn't need any help. He'd do it on his own and finally be recognized for the hero he was. This would be his redemption.
Assuming, of course, he could figure out where to go. The visions were never precise, they just flaunted recognizable landmarks burning to the ground, as if the Allied firebombings were renewed across the entire eight hundred plus square mile metropolis. Shiro took to the air again not long after landing, flying up almost to his personal limit where the air was thin and his fire dwindled. The entirety of Tokyo lay several thousand meters beneath his feet, quietly preparing to slumber, oblivious to the apocalypse that awaited it. Shiro roared vexedly. The gods had besought him to avert the destruction. Why wouldn't they point him in the right direction? How was he supposed to do anything without guidance?
When he landed, it wasn't anywhere near Haneda Airport. He stood at an unfamiliar T intersection in what appeared to be a small business district. He heard a shout and spun on his heel, his fists ignited and ready to attack. Then several more frightened cries were added to the first, and half a dozen young men in suits fled in all directions, screaming for the police. For what? Shiro turned again, trying to find the source of the commotion. Maybe this was it. Whatever was holding Tokyo in jeopardy was attacking now, and now was the chance to defeat it!
"Come out and fight me!" he shouted as he ignited his fire form. A bush exploded as a demonstration of his power. "I know you are here and I will not let you bring harm to my city."
Nothing responded. The street was empty now, no one even appeared in infrared. The fire form slowly extinguished, and Shiro slumped against the side of a building. False alarm. The passersby had been shouting at him. He was what had frightened them so. That confused him. Why be scared of him? He was there to protect them. To save them. He was not their destruction. Something else was.
As Shiro turned to leave, a large structure caught his attention. A white gate, a torii, stood before a big red pavilion. "Kanda Myojin," he read as he passed a marked pillar and entered the shrine's courtyard. The home of three gods, he recalled: Ebisu and Daikokuten of the Seven Gods of Good Fortune, and the deified samurai Taira no Masakado, revered for his rebellion against the Heian government a millennium ago. He stood for the people and watched over them, regardless of their political affiliation or social status. Shiro breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe he could offer Shiro the guidance he required to complete his mission.
The purification rituals in preparation for prayer were old hat and Shiro went through them methodically. As he approached the honden, the building that enshrined the gods and was off limits to the general public, two red and white-clad priests appeared on either side of him, heads inclined politely.
"Yoshida-san," he familiar voice called. A tall, slender man in traditional formal robes with hair to rival Logan's sat at the top step to the honden. He stood when Shiro saw him and stepped to the side. "Kanda Shrine awaits you."
Shiro didn't respond. He climbed the stairs and entered the building, and the writhing darkness within took him for its own.
Matsu'o Tsurayaba smiled.
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