pslplz | Futureverse

At the time Rasu sees it, he can't really tell who it is that's just been jumped and had their bag yanked away. He just knows someone's getting attacked and it's turning violent, and that's really all he needs to know. For the moment, his wearable is forgotten, and he increases the speed of his run to a bullish charge towards the crime in progress.

"Hey!" He yells. Probably not the smartest move, drawing attention to himself and announcing his presence to the whole street, but the vocalization is out of his mouth without any thought to a consideration like that.

When he feels the impact of the ground rushing hard and fast against him, he sees his life flash before his eyes. It's not like he saw a gun or anything, but hey -- Mizuki isn't the sort of person who deals with such violence on his person day to day! He's only directed simulated violence, and this is completely something else. The guy could pull out a gun or a knife or a phaser and suddenly Mizuki's life could be over. All for a bag and some (long and hard) days of work! What a pathetic end to what could've been an illustrious career!

A voice rings out then, and it floods him with such relief that for a moment he doesn't even recognize who it is.

He turns just in time to see his assailant turn toward the sound and charge. A brawl?? Here on the studio grounds? Unfortunately for Mizuki, he's not directing anyone in this real-life nightmare scenario. All he can do is watch with widening eyes. Surely no one is about to get killed! Right?

He's big, Rasu notices as the brute starts coming at him. Easily bigger than him-- maybe a head taller? And stocky as hell. Doesn't seem out of shape, either, from how he's running. Rasu stands 5'6 with muscle to spare, but he's no rhino. And the dude has something about two feet long and straight in his hand. Pipe? No, baseball bat. Fuck.

Could be worse, he thinks. Could definitely be worse.

They meet at the cusp of a street lamp's beacon, and as the attacker swings the bat, Rasu dives into a roll, tumbles past the man's feet and rises back up to keep running past him in one smooth motion. If it can be helped, it'd be better not to face off against him at all-- Rasu just wants him away from his target.

When he turns around and gives chase, however, Rasu knows that option is not going to happen. He stops running and turns around, placing himself between the attacker and the owner of that bag. His stance shifts, feet comfortably apart for balance with knees slightly bent. And he raises his fists.

"If you can run get out of here!" He calls.

For a person who surrounds himself with drama all day, Mizuki ought to be more prepared for all types of scenarios. Unfortunately, he's better at directing these sorts of thing from behind a camera, with a script and notes and a picture in his mind, alongside actors who will do exactly what he tells them to do. This goon will probably just whack him over the head and leave him for dead. Or leave that guy for dead, the heroic bystander who definitely should not have called attention to himself.

Miraculously, the guy dodges the swing of the bat before rushing to move between Mizuki and the attacker. He gathers up his bag and holds it tightly to his chest as he looks up at him from the ground.

"Rasu-kun??"

His eyes are wider than ever.

"What are you doing?"

Surely not pretending to be a superhero! This is not a stunt.

When Rasu ran over, he was under the assumption the victim was a stranger. The instinct to rush to the aid of another didn't obey laws of acquaintanceship; he saw trouble and his body moved.

So when the voice calls out his name, and the voice of the person he'd be looking for no less, it jars him. He whips his head back in mild horror.

"Mizuki?!"

There's no time for any further conversation. The attacker is fast approaching and rearing his bat back for another strike. Rasu takes one second to gauge and snaps his leg up. He yells as the kick smacks under the jaw.

The impact is audible, followed quickly by an angry howl of pain that causes the assailant to stumble backward and cup his throat through a string of coughs.

It may not be a stunt, but neither are Rasu's skills mere theatrics. He regrounds his balance after the kick, uncharacteristically quiet as the adrenaline rushes through his body. His focus stays squarely on the opponent. He may be stunned for the moment, but there's no guarantee he's done.

Honestly! Of all people to be coming to his aid, it has to be this guy. Mizuki hadn't exactly been dazzled by him the last time they had an encounter outside of work. In fact, he had vowed to make that the last time such an event would occur.

But for someone clumsy enough to knock a beverage onto a person he should be trying to impress, Rasu certainly seemed coordinated enough to fix this particular situation. Or kick the air right out of the man, rather. Mizuki winces as the guy staggers back, gasping and heaving.

He hopes for the assailant's own sake that he calls it quits. Mizuki sighs with relief when the guy takes off, with as much speed as he can in his state, disappearing into the shadows.

Mizuki tries to rise to his feet but they've turned into jelly.

Rasu doesn't trust it until the guy rounds the corner. After all, he could just be adding some distance for a long-distance weapon like a gun. Thankfully, he really is leaving.

Which leaves just him and Mizuki down on the ground.

His muscles tight and electric with the belated onset of fear-- fear he hadn't been able to process in the moment (god that could have gone so much worse!)-- Rasu finally turns and kneels by Mizuki, offering his hand to help him back up.

"You okay?"

I almost got killed, what do you think? doesn't seem like a very polite thing to say to someone who just saved his life, so Mizuki says proudly (but maybe not with as much conviction as he'd like): "I'm fine."

He hesitates a moment before taking the offered hand to pull himself up.

"Er. Thank you," he adds, awkwardly.

Of course, neither of them is exactly fine in a psychological context. Rasu can almost feel himself trembling. It's not his first real fight, but that doesn't make it less frightening in the aftermath. That guy had been serious about hurting them.

"Don't," he answers to the thanks, and looks a bit awkward himself. "...I'm glad you're not hurt. I... Look, I know you'll be fine but-- mind if I see you home?"

Rasu has a feeling that's going to get shot down, but he has to at least ask.

"Oh."

On the one hand, he'd like to insist he's okay. But on the other hand -- he'd really rather not be alone right now. He doesn't want to sound like a needy person or anything, but since Rasu offered...

"That's acceptable," he says. He's willing to brave the awkwardness for the sense of security and familiarity.

"...do you need medical attention?"

He's a little surprised-- in a relieved way-- that Mizuki is willing to allow the escort. And it really is just for the sense of security. The scare of the attack was too fresh. Rasu doesn't like the idea of letting him out of his sight just yet.

"Nah, I'm okay. Bit scuffed from the roll is all. It's not bad."

"I see."

Mizuki looks visibly glad for it. He'd hate for anyone to get injured on his behalf. Much less someone he knows.

"Should we call the police?"

Rasu can't help a bit of a smile at the show of concern. Thankfully, the roll was from hapkido classes, a move that runs smoothly across the ground from the right shoulder to the left hip in a way that minimizes the potential for injury.

"Uh-- Yeah. I guess we should. Can I leave that to you? I kinda... don't have my wearable on me."

"Of course."

Odd that he should go without it, but maybe he left it somewhere by accident. Mizuki makes the call, and as they wait for the authorities to arrive, he is finally able to think a little clearly and ask:

"What were you doing here, anyway?"

Rasu feels antsy waiting for the call to finish, like picking that run back up and circling the block or something. It's the adrenaline, a surge of energy of which very little was needed to fend off the threat. He settles instead for bouncing his heels in place while he waits for Mizuki to finish the call.

At the question, he flashes an awkward grin.

"Coming to try to get my wearable... Lucky thing I'm an airhead, huh?"

"Maybe this time," Mizuki says with a snort, but not unkindly. He's not one to ever say airheadedness is a lucky thing usually. He's quite particular, after all. This might be why their date didn't go so well. But today, he's grateful.

"Do you normally come charging in like that? He could've had a gun..."

A predictably diplomatic response from Mizuki. The man is much better organized than Rasu is, in life and mind alike. Rasu is glad for that.

"I know he could've! Why do you think I watched until he was out of sight? I..." He wasn't answering the question. He grimaces.

"In the moment, I wasn't thinking about stuff like that. I saw him push you to the ground and everything just. Happened..."

Rasu probably would've done the same for anybody. Even so, Mizuki feels oddly warmed by the whole thing.

"That's very noble of you. Stupid, but noble."

Rasu scoffs a laugh at that.

"Yeah... It was. Stupid, I mean." But he can't quite say he regrets being that flavor of stupid.

"So my turn: what were you doing still here? You know it's like 1 in the morning right? Just because I was optimistic enough to come out here on the chance you'd be here doesn't mean you should've proved it right."

"Nfu. I was working, obviously."

What else would he be doing at the studio at this hour?

"These edits don't get done by themselves."

"Well yeah, obviously. But-- ehhhh. You do sleep, right?" Rasu already knows Mizuki doesn't really have free time from their awkward date, but surely someone as together as he is ensures he satisfies all his body's basic needs? One look at him is enough to make clear he takes care of himself. One simply has to wonder where he finds the time to if this is really how late he works.

"Of course. I don't work all night or anything..."

Besides, he finds it odd coming from someone who came all the way out here at 1am to fetch his wearable. Or is being up at this hour a strange thing only if one is working?

The flickering blue and red lights indicate the arrival of the police, finally. Mizuki feels that slightly jittery sensation again, as he remembers why they were waiting here in the first place.

For once, Rasu thinks better of opening his mouth again. Partly because he can see the flashing lights of the approaching police officer.

The officer takes down notes of both their accounts while two others scour the location for bits of evidence-- including a scrape of Rasu's shoe. By the time they're free to go, it's after 2, and Rasu at least is ready to crash. He'd been about to go to bed when he remembered the wearable and it's only gotten later since.

"How far is your commute?" He asks. Not that it's going to make a difference to whether he carries out his earlier offer. He's just curious.

"It's north of the park. Just fifteen minutes on the monorail," Mizuki says with a tilt of his head. He wonders whether the delay with all the police matter has made Rasu change his mind about walking him home.

"Is that out of your way...?"

"Nah-- wouldn't matter even if it was." Technically it wasn't the same direction he needed to go in, but fifteen minutes was pretty quick. It's hard to call it out of his way when it isn't going to cause a big inconvenience, regardless of whether it would result in any backtracking.

"That's not too bad for a commute. Always nice when you don't have to travel far to work." Some people had pretty awful ones, easily exceeding an hour.

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