[video] forward dated to 9/13

[appraiser]

Ryoji Mochizuki shared a video.
09/13 near Apprassage

[ The video starts up, dark, silent. A bedroom, if an empty desk and neatly made bed and too many cardboard boxes count as a bedroom, and then the view flips over with a soft ] Oh. [ as the user finds the front-facing camera instead of the rear that he always uses on his phone. ]

Hi... It's been a while.

[ The bottom half of the screen blurs as Ryoji draws his knees to his chest where he sits on bare floorboards, phone in his hands. He doesn't introduce himself— doesn't need to, when his name is up there for people who don't know him, his face right here for people who do: the people he's recording this video for, whispers in an empty room. ]

I'm back. I know there are probably questions as to why, or how... and I can't really explain it well myself. But I'll answer the best I can, if you want to ask, texting or in person.

[ Ryoji sits up a little straighter now, looks a little more serious. This is what he meant to say: a confession. ]

But before that, I want to say that I'm glad to be back, however it happened... a second chance like this. I also want to be more upfront about myself, and there are things I want to say to a lot of people.

There was a time in the past where I was a monster: I'd hurt a lot of people, and I ran from all of that, hid myself away, and pretended it hadn't happened. The memories I've been experiencing, I kept the good ones close, the bad even closer, pretending they weren't real and that they have nothing to do with me. I thought... that it would be better to forget about all of that and return to a simpler time. Unconsciously, I think that's what I did. I went back to before everything happened, to start over, and do better this time. But I got it wrong. I made myself forget, but I wasn't forgotten...

[ He's rambling now, a little, so he turns his eyes away from the screen, staring off at something in the distance- it's the moon reflected in his eyes, only half. ]

There's somebody I still need to say goodbye to, but after that... I want to see so many of you. I owe a lot of "thank you"s and "I'm sorry"s and "I love you"s, and I want to be with people again. I don't want to leave this world or its people ever again.

So... I'll see you guys soon.




( ooc: forward dated to 9/13 to give myself a buffer. replies can be via text, or an in-person if you want to fast-forward to ryoji showing up at your character's house/class/chance meeting at some cafe/hi roommates/he'll be finding people around town somehow. for his cr, please assume he checked up on them, whether it's handwaved or not! )

Comments

[appraiser]

...That really puts me at ease, thank you.

[ Ryoji can feel his shoulders relax with Keigo's words, with the fact that all he sees is "Ryoji," not death, or dying, or whatever terrible memories talking about this has dredged up for him. Something worse than Death, apparently, when Death is something everybody must face at one point in their life, and that one time is bad enough. ]

Death is what I am, but it's not all I am. [ And he doesn't like talking about it much, reaching up to rub at the back of his head and messing up his hair more than it already is. ] Did you have anybody to talk about those memories with?

[loudmouths]

[ in truth, perhaps keigo wasn't the right person to ask about these sorts of things. his views and his experiences, mixed with that of those memories he was regaining, weren't always pleasant. but ensuring that ryoji felt wanted despite whatever he might have felt or remembered, was keigo's ultimate goal.

it seemed to be working, to some degree, which brought a great sense of relief to keigo. he visibly relaxed, his shoulders slumping as he breathed deeply. ]

I want to do what I can for you. [ he meant that, wholeheartedly. ] But... [ he looked to one side, laughing nervously. ] No. I... don't really go into detail about the memories I get. I don't think I've...

[ he frowned as he looked off into the distance, letting those memories replay in his head over and over. ] I don't think I've told anyone the majority of what I remember.

[appraiser]

[ Ryoji doesn't really know what he needs from people, nor what to ask for, so this is something of normalcy- talking, listening, lending a shoulder. ]

That's understandable, for difficult memories. I've always had Minako to tell everything to, because we appear in each other's memories and it'd make sense to consolidate what we know. But that's more like reporting and not... letting it all out. Sharing the burden, because it doesn't need to be just your own. I have maybe two or three other people who do that for me, and I'd like to be one of yours?

[loudmouths]

[ keigo never liked opening up about the deeper things he experienced, by virtue of never wanting anyone to worry about him. or, maybe more accurately, due to fear that no one would worry about him. it was easier to play a part than it was to be honest.

ryoji was making the opposite more and more real, however. harder to pretend, easier to be genuine. he gave a somewhat bitter laugh, directed more at himself than anyone else. ]

I don't have anyone like that. No one... no one I know has ever been in any of my memories. [ and that made him feel more alone than anything. ] But... if you want to do that...

[ he breathed deeply. ]

I don't know why you would, but I'd do anything at this point.

[ just to make sure ryoji stayed here. ]

[appraiser]

You have someone like that.

[ Ryoji means to bring a hand to his chest and tap his finger there to emphasize that he would be there for him, but the rest of Keigo's words still his hand, and he lets it hang there. He'd been really lucky, he thinks, always having somebody by his side to confide in, who he knows without a doubt that she cares, to the point that she is the only familiar face in all of his memories, saving him from ever being truly alone. He would do anything for her, in return everything she's done for him, but with Keigo...

When he hears "I don't know why you would," he can't think of a reason either. ]

I would. Because I want to— because I feel like it. The reason doesn't matter, does it?