Stray. [Hi Yohei.]

[Tsukuda Kohaku]

Idle hands are the devil's playthings.

And yet Rei leaves her idle, unable to fend for herself. Enrollment fees are not payed this year, for her mother has abandoned her, left her idle. Left her to be the devil that she saw Kohaku to be. When Kohaku is awake, her mother's words haunt her, when she is asleep, they dog her even further. Money is low, and the only thing lower is Kohaku's spirits. But she does not stop. Idle as Kohaku is, her greedy still stretches and catches things of worth as people pass her bench. Morning is spent at school and the rest of the day scavenging for cardboard and newspaper. Whatever will keep her warm for the night. School is only attended for food and showers, but the boarding fee remains in the air.

Often, her income mostly comes from the pocket of a young man who does her moped justice. He keeps the engine fed and alive. However, what happens after she graduates? When Kohaku ponders about the future, she knows that her present is terrible, that she wishes to escape. Breakfasts and lunches keep her more meaty than the average homeless person. The shower keeps her hygiene in check. But she knows the staff will find out eventually. They will catch onto her masquerading as a student, when she was terribly, terribly unregistered.

The fiery yellow of the sunlight dies into orange embers. Most of her newspaper covering has blown away. Kohaku curses for being careless and not securing the papers, but at least her cardboard remains untouched. "In th' end, all I got is you." She sits on her bench, enjoying the feel of cool metal on her skin. Kohaku strokes the handle of her moped, the affectionate brushing of her fingertips painting a strange picture of admiration to all who looked onward. "I ain't gonna let you die on me." Under her eyes are dark rings from the obsessive surveillance she has on her moped. Stress is deep in her features. Any moment, someone would try to steal what was hers. And she was not willing to go sleeping. Sometimes she walks to other places, spends the night there as to not have a routine for any with ill intentions.

"Mmmn," Kohaku begins to hum so that sleep will not claim her for an indeterminable amount of time. She was tired. She was exhausted. But be damned if she'd release her moped if it killed her.

Today was Friday. A celebration for most students, but not for the perching tramp. She feels the last of her lunch burn within her stomach slowly. Without school in session, Kohaku starves on the weekends. While this meant free reign for the teenagers, it meant more people to watch for the Tsukuda girl.

[Sekozawa Yohei]

To be sane is, to a great extent, to be sociable.

Lacking in the sociable department impeded the process of latching onto the so-so amount of sanity remaining. And Yohei desired nothing more than to be a regular sane being. Yet, in his regard, social standards inherited were below par, how was he suppose to alter his reality to fit in. The idea of sanity seemed to steadily slip out of his firm grasp, though, considering he was a teenager with raging hormones and immature speculations. All of which could be blown out of proportion; a unjust challenge gift wrapped with a pink bow only for him.

If the push out of his brothers shadow contrived such provocation, Yohei was determined to defeat it, and reinstate balance. A simple bus ride home, exhausted from all the activities the day summoned, portrayed that resolution.

Similar to any other day, Yohei sat in the middle area of the bus, seat closes to the window that he peered out of. Like always, they proceeded down the usual route, and were now rolling by Izumi Park onward to the residential area. However, the ride was different today. Yohei perked up as they passed, turquoise eyes concentrating on something or someone at the park. For the last couple of days, the playful structure he barely ever visited, occupied an contraption he definitely seen before.

And it was there once more, next to a bench.

Yohei pressed a red button, initiating a loud buzzing noise that alerted the driver to stop. Nodding a thank you, he hopped off the vehicle and allowed it to drive pass before crossing the streets, properly. No jaywalking from him. Of course he made it across safely, eyes scanning the park. The area lacked kids at play, it was reasonable seeing as how the sun steadily lowered, matching the color of ignited cigarette. However, someone left a horrible mess. Yohei caught himself retrieving papers, littered cans, and dumped the filth in the trash.

While making way toward the bench, cerebral fully comprehending whom that familiar contraption belonged to. His shaggy, brown head swished to and fro as he stared at the unoccupied moped. To be honest, fondness snaked into his heart for the tiny buggy, right next to all his cleaning supplies. Quite different from it's owner standing, they were...he actually didn't understand how to explain their relationship. But why was she the crumple of dirty clothing on the bench.

Before acting, Yohei buried a hand in the depths of his pocket, reeling out one last moist towelette to clean his hands. "...Kohaku" he called out, grabbing her thin wrist connected to her vehicle. "Get up this bench is dirty."

[/b]

[Tsukuda Kohaku]

The trees sway gently under the cool breeze that flows past. Kohaku finds herself bobbing, rocking, swaying just as the branches. Slowly, she's surrendering herself to sleep. Soon, darkness, and what remains of her are hearing and smell, her body still trying ever so hard to remain alert, to keep herself connected to consciousness. The sudden strange shadow that casts over her is ignored, the calling of her name justified by her mind teetering on the boundary of dreamland. What rouses Kohaku is the lock around her wrist that propels her back into awareness. "GET OFF OF HER!" She screams, heart hammering in her throat erratically, her grip around the moped's handle increasing. They finally came for the last thing she held dear to her. Kohaku struggles against the foreign, unwanted sensation of soft flesh tightly pressed against hers. Her chest heaves greatly to satisfy the appetite of a frantic heartbeat, and those desperate, hot emerald eyes slowly come to focus of the figure before her.

"Yohei," Familiarity colors her tone, though whether or not that very bond bred contempt was lost to her. How did he find her? A connection of hearts, a psychic joining of existences. Whenever her soul sings for help, there is Sezokawa Yohei, with shield and sword ready to fight off the impurities that plagued the core of her being. Recognition flickers in her emerald gaze, taking in the rough waves of mousy brown hair and matching eyes of the man before her.

"You nosy motherfucker." Nothing but the utmost shock electrifies Kohaku's expression. Because when it comes down to it, that is all he is. Meddling in things to obtain what he believed to be order. Even now, it's only been less than a few minutes and he was already reaching for the driver's wheel. "Why don't th' bench get off of me?" No, it made no sense whatsoever. Yes, Kohaku was in dire of a comeback. Her nose detects the faint stench of chemical solution. God, he was so tidy. It made her stomach coil at his obsessiveness.

"Are ya finna get my moped? Because th' answer is no. I see th' look you give 'er, but she only takes ya along the ride. She's for me. I made 'er, dammit. Stop tryna homewreck!" All throughout that rant, she'd be stroking the leather cushion seat affectionately. What a odd love triangle.

[Sekozawa Yohei]

Naturally composed and stoic, a trait she may already predicted, Yohei mysterious induced optics casts over the bench warmer. Considering two years flashed by upon the duo's initial encounter, hence the reason for the unyielding facade, negating the intelligent, yet rude, defensive cry was instinctively. A metamorphoses was bound to occur in amisdt of a relationship like theirs; accustoming was habitual. However they remained in public, therefore, Yohei head bobbled looking for any alerted witnesses. Action like so didn't effect him much as it achieved with the public. The last concern he craved to push onto him was the Park Creeper.

After scouting the grounds, fortunately no other probing eyes payed attention, his mysterious gaze casted over her. An uncommunicative gesture persisted, not by choice, that is. Instances were he is dragged off the indifferent podium and stricken to the level of a mesmerizing human. His strong features crumbled into something soft, puddy-like only for a few seconds ensuing the call of his name. For a split second, Kohaku, the devil that conversed with the television, eyes locked on his. Shades of doe-eyed pools of naive green, blinked widely at him. Relinquishing the impression of a puppy begging to taken home and handle with care.

Sadly her bark shattered any cordial embrace fluttering. Same old Kohaku. Insulting him, compelling him to release her thin wrist and have a meeting between hand and face. Her country twang, loud and vibrant as ever. English class failed to benefit her, seeing as she slayed the language happily upon every opening of the mouth.

What was he expecting of her? This is the Kohaku he's come to understand, anyway. Of course it wasn't visible in any way, but he allowed half a smile internally.

At least she was correct to some extent. He'd love to attain her moped, which he secretly titled Peepi. It's a fact he already nurtures and feeds it whenever she ask. Yohei examined her face before speaking, there was something off...

"I help take care of her, I feed her and treat her gently. I'm the better owner for her. And I would never leave her in the open like this. Why are you here loitering on a dirty bench?" questions the nosy brat, though eyes were fixated on dirt smudged cheek. It made him fidget unnecessarily.

[Tsukuda Kohaku]

Kohaku leans to the side to avoid the path of his words. The air that houses his sentence also contained a bolt to shock her once more. But Kohaku isn't awed at his audacity. Her moped was pretty sweet. At least a tidy monster like he still had good taste.

"Wow, okay. I like those lies sprinkled in that," Slowly she pulls herself to a stand, half reluctant because that would be doing what he commanded earlier. She had to wake herself up though, get the hot blood rushing through her body. Kohaku raises a brow, looking around her and behind her to see where Yohei's intense gaze belonged to. And then his body began to have those little fits, those twitches. The only thing Kohaku adored running other than her moped's motor was her own mouth. She talks for two, but Yohei is a quiet man verbally. She learns to talk to his body, rather than to his mouth. And currently, his form snaps towards her almost angrily.

He had a problem. "What?" Kohaku's emerald eyes burns hungrily for an answer as he continues to just inspect her. Naturally, she takes her position upon the seat of her moped, Suppiido was the name. She mounts the leather and grips possessively at the curvy handles she loves so much. "No. Holy shit. No! Guess it was wrong as all hell ta think ya'd know th' goddamned meaning of it since ya got no complications saying it to me all th' time." Just remembering the tone of his voice rubs at her in all the wrong ways. Deep inside, Kohaku knows Yohei most likely didn't come to irritate her about how wicked Suppiido was.

"Are ya like, here ta clean th' benches or something?" Curosity lightens her hard face as she makes mock revving motions at the handlebars. You could attribute it to her being a smartass, however, with Yohei, there is no knowing how monstrous his need for order could become.

[Sekozawa Yohei]

A few leaves fluttered on the sails of a cool breeze as night fall steadily advancing. Visibly, Yohei's body quivered while a hand ascended, combing strands of hair cascading his heart shaped face. Around this time he'd normally be comfortably sitting in front of his television concentrating on some of his favorite shows. But again, like numerous other occasion, the thin girl occupying breathing space tarnished his schedule. Although he sought this encounter making him partially at fault.

He fidgeted again, that smudge remained, mocking him. And she failed to notice, which fabricated the though of how couldn't she. Dull eyes flickered to the moped she caressed then sat on, obviously she adored it more than anything else, including herself. Why would she besmirch the beauty of the cherished vehicle with her vagrant disposition? Well, the whole idea of appearing unkempt was utterly confusing to him in a whole.

Nevertheless, he cared for the well being of his tiny devil friend, even while he ignored her talking. Most of it held no air of importance, nor did she answer a simple question. Was he she hiding something or perhaps unnecessary curiosity should be blamed? Either way, he desired an answer and will poke until he retrieves one.

"No. I'm not here to clean the bench -- actually, maybe I should. They will make it an appropriate base to rest on, which also would attracts more visitors to the park." he spoke in a matter-a-fact tone as he sized up the bench, rambling on a little too much. Attempting not drone on about cleaning, he shook his head, batting away the annoying tidy god thoughts. He stared back at her tomboy-ish features, thumb raising to his mouth, licking it instinctively.

"You skipped over my question on purpose." He stated, leaning into her personal space. A distraction rose as Kohaku played on her bike, perfect moment to end the annoying tick. Similar to what a mother would do her child: Yohei's arms reached out, moist thumb targeting the smudged area, and began rubbing. Successfully cleansing the area in a mere ten seconds; weight on his shoulder appeared to be relieved for now.

"There."

[/b] After pulling his hand away, he folded his arms across his chest as if protecting from any onslaught of loud countering word. "Now why were you sleeping on the bench?"[/b][/center][/size]