Sashiko: The Darkest Timeline

[specialguestvillains]

Jigen's right arm ached, and that meant the weather was about to go sour.

Granted, it always ached, but it was aching in a very specific way right now, and also it was January in Paris so the weather was going to get fucked eventually. Everyone gave charitably around Christmas, but as soon as it flipped around to January 2 all that goodwill towards men dried up and the weather was even colder than before.

Jigen took up his usual position near the cafe and watched the patrons stroll by, eying them up to see who looked like a big spender. Men with dates sometimes liked to impress their girls, as did bachelorette parties. People on the way back from soccer matches were charitable, but only if their team won, and if they hadn't they had the risk of being mean drunks. Sometimes they'd be mean drunks anyway.

Okay, guy in a blue blazer, looked like a tourist from the back.

"Hey, buddy. Spare some change?" he mumbled, the phrase coming more naturally than most of his French. He said it enough these days for it to be nearly rote. The man turned and Jigen found himself unable to look the man in the face. Something about his pose said horror, maybe even disgust. He didn't have the energy to deal with that bullshit today.

"Don't worry about it," he said before the tourist could even speak, and turned around to trod off again. The battered hat he'd been using as a money bucket went back on his head. Behind him, he heard the man slowly back away. By the time Jigen looked at him again, the man in blue had run off into the crowd.

Comments

[specialguestvillains]

"Okay, but I never met that smiling little shit." Jigen dropped his arm with a scowl, reaching again for the wine bottle. His tongue flicked out and caught the last little drops lingering around the neck. "So why am I having dreams about some fuckface I never knew? Even if I knew him he'd probably screw me over anyway."

[artoflaw]

"Not everyone is out to screw you." Maybe it can't out a little quick, the spurs of Zenigata's earlier thoughts suddenly jabbing in hard. "But if I can he my brain damage ghost, you can have yours."

[specialguestvillains]

"It's not brain damage. Got shot in the arm, not the head." Jigen pointed to his temple with the finger gun and made another pew noise. "Would have been faster that way. Not dying by inches. And now I'm here, leeching off you, and I still have those stupid fucking dreams about a life I never had. Wish they'd stop. I don't want to dream of better things."

[zenigatcha]

"You're not a leech," Zenigata grumbles, but he knows there's little argument to be had. Jigen doesn't have a lot to offer except his presence -- or his body, and that's a check that Zenigata refuses to catch. He's not looking for an in house sex worker.

"I don't know what to tell you about the dreams, though," he says, rubbing his forehead. "I just-- I got 'em too. Weird, isn't it?"

[lupintrois]

"Get them like...how?" Like sad dreams, or like monkey man dreams? Because Jigen's starting to get a weird itch in the back of his head, like there's something he needs to put together.

[zenigatcha]

"I dream of this-- time before the wreck. Like..." he chews the inside of his cheek, as he contemplates this weird idea they share a dream person. "There's this round-faced, monkey-lipped, cab-door eared asshole. He's a criminal, I know he is! And he's mocking me. But he only exists before the wreck. After, he's gone, but he isn't. He's always at the edge of my dreams, like he wants to lead me off out of them. Mocking. He's just-- some sort of composite criminal, I guess? But he dresses very flashy for a criminal."

Zenigata shrugs. It's weird and he doesn't like it, but it is what it is. His brain's damaged, so why not have this sort of weird recurring stress dream?

[lupintrois]

Jigen wets his lips and feels around for the wine bottle. Finding it empty, he frowns, and then clambers to his feet to stick his head in the sink and drink out of the faucet. Water drips from his beard as he sinks down to the floor again, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand, and he just looks...tired. So tired.

"Got a smile like you want to either punch him or kiss him or both, and his pants are too damn short for his legs?" he asks, like a challenge.

[zenigatcha]

"Bright colored jacket, sideburns to match mine," Zenigata adds, watching Jigen with wary eyes. All of it fits.

But why?

[lupintrois]

Jigen nods slowly, body shaking a bit as if he's holding in a laugh. Or a sob.

"How the...how the fuck do two people who haven't ever met dream about the same fucking guy?" he muttered, pressing his hand to his head. "I don't even know who this guy is."

[zenigatcha]

"I don't either. But Migraine-san comes in the day and he comes in the night," Zenigata says as he shrugs his shoulders. He's not getting up from the floor, but checking the chamber of his gun to make sure nothing is in it. There isn't -- good boy, Jigen, you were completely careful.

Still buying a lockbox.