[He should have known it was Yamato. Who else could it have been?
It's strange, this new sensation he's been plagued with. It's strange enough that he doesn't think he'll be able to adjust in the same way he'd adjusted to his eyes or the petals that no longer appear so often. He had felt, from blocks and blocks away, as hands had picked that sword up - felt it as clearly as if someone touched his own arm. He'd felt as the sword was cradled close to a body and he was too focused on the present to really worry about it (he'd thought, but perhaps he had just been comforted by a familiar presence).
He can't "feel" his sword just yet, in the way that he can feel through it, so he can't tell that it's coming closer. But he doesn't need to, because he can sense someone else approaching and he recognizes that voice immediately.
He should have known it was Yamato. They're always together, aren't they?
The sound of the heels clacking pauses just briefly, but when it starts up again, it's heading toward the alley entrance where Yamato is. Kashuu slips from the interior like he's made of something insubstantial, reaching for Yamato's elbow as he goes to pull him closer to the wall.]
Shh.
[A quick sound. Yamato might pick up the faintest scent of blood, but what's probably more striking is the look on his face. It's harsh and full of focus as it catches the scant streetlight; he hasn't worn this kind of sharpness since before he had left for Japan.]
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It's strange, this new sensation he's been plagued with. It's strange enough that he doesn't think he'll be able to adjust in the same way he'd adjusted to his eyes or the petals that no longer appear so often. He had felt, from blocks and blocks away, as hands had picked that sword up - felt it as clearly as if someone touched his own arm. He'd felt as the sword was cradled close to a body and he was too focused on the present to really worry about it (he'd thought, but perhaps he had just been comforted by a familiar presence).
He can't "feel" his sword just yet, in the way that he can feel through it, so he can't tell that it's coming closer. But he doesn't need to, because he can sense someone else approaching and he recognizes that voice immediately.
He should have known it was Yamato. They're always together, aren't they?
The sound of the heels clacking pauses just briefly, but when it starts up again, it's heading toward the alley entrance where Yamato is. Kashuu slips from the interior like he's made of something insubstantial, reaching for Yamato's elbow as he goes to pull him closer to the wall.]
Shh.
[A quick sound. Yamato might pick up the faintest scent of blood, but what's probably more striking is the look on his face. It's harsh and full of focus as it catches the scant streetlight; he hasn't worn this kind of sharpness since before he had left for Japan.]
—They'll be heading this way soon.