doku | VISIONS I HAD BURIED UNDERGROUND / RETURNING TO ABUSE US

[She absolutely does, it's a really nice look for him and in that moment she really can't do anything but completely appreciate hime.]

Hey. [Her arm loops around his for just a second in a sort of makeshift hug.]

Thank you.

[This ... Might not look good to anyone following them but she doesn't care about that right now.]

[He bows his head to the side when she locks an arm with him.]

You looked like you needed a laugh.

[It doesn't, but it'll just be yet another unanswered question.]

[She grins a little wider, squeezes, and then lets go.]

You're the best.

[Alright, let's do this shopping thing.]

[So they do, without much advent about it, and Krieg makes a cautious scan out of the sliding glass doors before they exit.]

It's not too bad. Two news crews, a couple paparazzis. We've been through worse.

[He turns to Noriko.]

I'll go first to break up the crowd, and you stay close behind. Remember: they're just noise. You got the keys out?

[And here they go. She bites at her lip and shifts the groceries on her arms.]

Right, definitely made it through worse.

[Her head bobs up and down, the keys lift in her right hand - it's very good of him to trust her not to run the fuckers over once she's got the truck on!]

Let's do this.

[She's going t follow Krieg's back and remember the weight of his hands on her shoulders. So long as Nariko's got that this won't be anything but a mild annoyance.

Hopefully.]

Right.

[Of course he trusts her. She wants to get out of here, not locked in a cell, right?

It pretty much goes the way he expected. People get mostly in his face since he's the bulwark, and the worst Noriko has to worry about is phones of both smart and micro variety being poked in her general personal space, but she doesn't have to worry about wrestling through the masses. There are no questions--rather, there are a ton of questions, but it's hard to hear just one at any given second.

They get through the crowd and uncomfortably shove into the truck when they get there, groceries and all, but Krieg has enough leg room to move the bags to the backseat cabin to get them out of the way once the doors are closed and locked.]

Yeah. Not so bad.

[Except they're crowding the front of the truck, leaving them boxed in for now. Technically they could take off, but it'd be too easy for someone to intentionally get caught under the wheel and sue for damages.]

...I guess we'll just wait until they get bored now.

[So much flash photography. Krieg shields his eyes with the back of his hand.]

It's a little bad.

[Not only because he took the worst of it and she just had to avoid a camera shoved perilously close to her boobs, but because it'll take a while for these fucking vultures to get bored. They have a cool sister to get to in a different state, and she knows this isn't exactly the best response to have, but she's very in control of herself as she goes about it!

Hopefully that'll count for something.

Without any warning to their information hungry assholes or to Krieg himself Nariko slams on Desdemona's horn and doesn't let up. Quit a few of them jump back, the lights dim in favor of some raised middle fingers. Nariko doesn't respond, she lets go of the horn, waits for them to come back in towards them again .... So she can slam on the horn.

Fuckers better get the point or no one will be alive to sue for anything.

It takes a round or two of this, but eventually there's enough of a path that she can slowly back them out of the parking lot.]

[Krieg is one of the people that jump at the horn, even though he sees it coming out of the corner of his eye. He watches her execute her plan, and by the time she's able to part the seas enough to move forward, he gives her a sporty little pat on the upper arm.]

Good thinking.

Thanks.

[She probably could have found some more polite way of going about it but just sitting there while all those assholes took picture was just - she didn't do such a good job of blocking out the noise, then. But he's not upset with her so she doesn't really care!

In relative silence she drives them back to the trailer so they can put everything away, hitch it up, and leave.]

I hated that they were always in our lives. I don't mind talking to fans, hanging out with them is great but I ... [How does she even say it, so that it can make sense?] I always hated that reporters got to know everything from my cup size to where I had lunch. And I could never be angry about it or even complain, drove me nuts.

[Repression isn't good for anyone, kids.]

It'll die down eventually.

[Admittedly, he spends a lot of time playing tetris with the fridge. Maybe they overestimated how much they could bring...]

They're still feeling the gaping wound left behind by the industry fallout. We'll suffer the disease for a while yet, but people will adapt. Or forget.

Hopefully, like this...we'll be able to get closer to our fans. There's no corporation standing between us and them anymore.

[Better to be over prepared than under, right? Or something along those lines. While he plays with the fridge she tries to figure out what to do with all the pillows.]

I've never been so eager to be forgotten, to be honest.

[She fluffs her pillow and sets it off in the far corner of the very small bed.]

Keigo. [The way she blinks over at him does nothing to explain what the hell she just said or why she said it.]

I still can't believe people would want popularity just for popularity's sake.

[His head pops out from the side of the door (as he's currently sitting on the floor to figure this out, he's too tall to pack the fridge standing up.]

Come again?

I used to when I was a kid, but now that I've actually had it ...

[Definitely no. Not anymore. But as far as his very reasonable question:]

It's kind of like smashing our names together, and I think it sounds cool. And ambiguous enough for anything we might end up doing.

[In other words, it's a name suggestion.]

Isn't...isn't that a Japanese word? Keigo?

[He's not complaining, by any stretch of the imagination. On the contrary, there might be something here they can use.]

Mmhm. It's a specific way of speaking to people, if I remember correctly.

[Specifically an incredibly polite form of honorifics.]

A way of speaking to people...

[He repeats it thoughtfully as he finishes packing the fridge and he closes it, stands up, and sets the temperature on it.]

Speaking to people.

[He likes the sound of that.]

[There's nothing to add to that when it seems like he's still thinking it all over. She nods, kind of to herself, and finishes up with the bed. She finds her notebook and pen. She doesn't want to be stuck in the trailer while they're driving but she's going to need something to do when she isn't driving! And there's already enough wandering around in her head that she can let her brain move a bit. If something worthwhile comes out, great. But it never hurts to just kind of work it out.]

[He quietly takes note of what she's dug out for herself.]

So we're ready then. [Hoo boy. He rolls his shoulders--it's nice to finally be done.] You want me to start the drive? [You know, so she has some time to her thoughts.]

Ahh.

[She should at least offer to go first, right? Except she really wants to write.]

If you don't mind, we can switch off when you're tired, though. [It's probably not a drive they can make in one long go.]

I don't know how much I have in me, but we'll see how far we get.

[It's already afternoon, but if they want to drive well into the night...it's gonna have to be Noriko that does it, while Krieg snoozes in the back seat.]

Don't try to tough it out, it's been a long day. [She snorts, begins to head out of the trailer. They've probably already hooked up everything that's needed to properly tow it.] Hell, it's been a long month.

[So a little bit of change and the start of something far more positive could really do them a whole hell of a lot of good.

Into Desdemona, and off they can go!]

I won't.

[He'll just feel a lot better when they get over state lines.

It's about ten p.m. when he decides he's run out of steam.]

Ugh, I'm throwing in the towel. Do you want to take over or find a place to park for tonight? Break in the bed.

[She's writing the whole time, both feet kicked up so that her knees are pressed in towards her body, and her notebook rested in the small space between them and her chest. She gets about six pages, both sides, in. There's a lot to kind of mess with the next time she's on her guitar and that's enough.]

I can put in a few hours.

[It's only ten! She can make it until four at the very least, and that's got to put them out of the city, right? That's the idea, anyway.]

[It's true. He pulls over at the soonest truck stop to make the switch, and it's not until he's in the copilot seat that he gets a good look at her notebook.]

You've been busy!

[He's not gonna read it unless she gives him express permission though.]

[While she's outside she stretches her arms and back before pulling up into the driver's seat! She takes a moment to hook in her phone to charge and connects it to the car. He's going to have to deal with some pop while she drives, because it helps keep her up, but it's not turned up horribly loud anyway.]

Kind of, it's a lot of scribbles and feelings so far ...

[She motions towards it while pulling out of the rest stop.] You'll see it doesn't make a lot of sense right now.

[It really doesn't. There are sizable paragraphs jammed in her inherently feminine loops, sloppily drawn staffs with notes, and even a doodle of a peacock, and on one page there's one that's supposed to be of her and Krieg, pushing through the earlier crowd. Some of it can be read benignly enough ("I'll never go home again / I don't remember where I left it / but I've got a burnt out taste in my mouth / so maybe it's with you / a hollow place with you") but farther in towards the end of those six pages is a little angrier, violent, less focused. Even her handwriting begins to change, becoming incredibly frantic when, in the moment, she had appeared perfectly calm ("And it turns out that the day you die is the same day you come alive / oh god and nothing / I'm gonna die alone").]

I never was very good at writing lyrics, to be honest. [It all sounds like the angry whining of a teenager when she reads it back to herself, so it's probably a miracle she hasn't thrown the whole thing out the window.]

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