awashlogs | [closed]

[All morning, Okuyasu's laptop has been making noise at him like someone is trying to get in touch with him, and every time he looks - nothing is there! It's broken, clearly, it's a broken piece of garbage machine that's finally dying, after months of mysteriously not having to be plugged in or anything. What a shit computer.

But those ghost notifs aside, it's a fairly normal morning. Nothing seems out of the ordinary at all- besides how the yard is just devoid of Iida entirely now, something he doesn't want to think about again- and he's just doing his regular thing when there's a knock at the door. Maybe he's tending his dopey sunflower window garden? Either way, he'll come to the door instead of hanging out the window, for once.

Ochako!!] Hey! [ah--] What's up?

[What's with this look, what did he do.]

[Ochako is doing her best not to think about Iida's absence, thank you very much, but it is an undeniable relief to see Okuyasu answer the door. Ah, so he didn't disappear, or turn into a statue, or have something even weirder happen to him; instead, he spent his apparently normal morning... ignoring every single message that popped into his inbox. That is—

Well, it's something, all right, but there are bigger fish to fry! She's going to push that hurtful thought to the side for the time being.]

I sent you so many messages, but you didn't answer any of them. [Okay, maybe not. She tilts her head slightly to the side, brow furrowing with obvious concern.] Is everything okay?

[Aaaaand let the wacky hijinks commence.]

[If only he could just say his computer is clearly broken and solve all of these problems at once. If only! But he can't, and he's looking at her, and her mouth is moving, but there's very obviously something wrong because he... can't hear a thing? Aloud he says--]

Uh— [and he can hear that. It's not the kind of "not hearing" one might encounter from not listening well or zoning out, or Ochako talking too quietly—it's just silence. Okuyasu frowns, giving it the true anime hearing test: does sticking a finger in his ear for a second do anything? No, that answer is no, of course...

And then very abruptly it's a problem, because why does he hear every background noise and his own voice and the distant murmur of neighbors' voices but not Ochako—?] Oi, I can't hear you.

[Try... again? This would be a fun gag if he didn't look so obviously disturbed by the fact that he has to say it at all.]

What?

[That's, uh, the only thing she can think to say, because what in the world is he talking about? She can hear herself just fine! But... he certainly doesn't look like he's joking; he does, in fact, look quite troubled by whatever the heck is going on, and that is worrying. Very worrying.]

B-But I can hear you. [Here, let her do the reasonable thing and raise her voice a bit—] What about now?

[Well, she's not looking at him like she's also suddenly deaf, so she's probably asking what the hell he's talking about. He shakes his head, trying to whap himself on the side of his head a few times and... dislodge... his sudden hearing impairment?!

It's not working, because this idea was dumb, but he's got only so many solutions to such a problem.]

Yo, what the hell? What's going on? This is freaking me out!

[Ah, so yelling clearly isn't effective—and neither is smacking yourself in the head, so oh my God, Okuyasu, don't do that. She immediately reaches out to grab his arm, forcing it back down to his side as she gives him what she hopes is a reassuring smile. Is this scary? Hell yes this is scary, but one of them needs to stay calm and think things through.]

It's okay! We'll figure this out together!

[If only he could, you know, actually hear that. And if only she, you know, had an actual plan. UGH. What would Deku do, what would Deku do... oh, right. Perking up a bit, she releases his arm so that she can mime scribbling something on a sheet of paper.]

[Whatever these words are... great... The ordinary morning drops straight into scary in 0.5 seconds flat. She's smiling at him, which almost kind of helps, and she can grab his arm to get him to stop so at least she's actually here, but augh—]

Huh? What? [He can hear himself just fine, but he still raises his voice like that's going to help—] Oh shit, right! Come on!

[And she is definitely coming inside with hiim, he's already reached out to grab her hand and turn to head up to his room. Soon he's produced some paper and his trusty blue marker and presents them to her expectantly. Make the magic happen, Ochako.]

[They're up the stairs before she can even say a word, not that it... actually matters. But yes, fine, let her take these school supplies and head directly to his desk, where she hastily writes a short message—Everything will be fine! Am I the first person you've seen today?—before glancing up to catch his reaction.]

[He's prepared to do his homework, Mafuyu could learn from this. And she sure is writing something on the paper, surely— something that Okuyasu interrupts the second she's done to take the marker and write on the paper himself. Just a line. It's just a simple line that probably crosses over a few of her words, but he can't actually see those. This is to prove the marker works.

Great news: the marker works. Horrific news: the other thing. Naturally, he looks even more distraught than before.]

There's nothing there! [It's getting worse!!]

[Her sentence is there, though. Ochako looks back down at the piece of paper to confirm this, pressing her lips into a thin line as she notes her sentence and the line he drew through half of it. He can't hear her, and he might not be able to see anything that she writes? What is with this cruel and unusual... punishment. HMM.]

I don't get it...

[He can't hear that, obviously, but he can see her heave a sigh before she turns back to him. The laptop is right there, and she'll point it out in a second—after she takes a step forward and grabs his hand. He clearly isn't taking this well at all, and this is the only real comfort she can offer him right now. Hi. Calm down.]

[He can't hear her or see what she writes, which leaves him feeling more than a little isolated despite the fact that she's right there. He can't hear her? What is he supposed to do with that? Is it happening with everyone else, too?! The thought of being stuck here and unable to talk to anybody at all is, frankly, terrifying, and since he hasn't been able to prove he can still communicate with anyone else...

His thoughts are definitely getting away from him when she grabs his hand, and since he can't! hear her!! he startles a little. Jesus.]

Wh— [No, nope. Nooope, he is not going to tear up about invisible ink, damn it!! He's rubbing his face with his free hand for a completely different reason.] What the hell... What'd I do?

[She gives his hand a surprisingly firm squeeze as she frowns up at him, because hey! Don't say things like that! Even if cursed ice cream truly is the root cause of this—and she's starting to think that it is—the blame lies with Mr. FFFFFF.

But she can't tell him this, or write it down for him to read, and her expression almost immediately softens. What can she do? She can continue holding his hand, even though it obviously isn't doing much... or she can stretch her other arm up toward him and try to tug him down into a hug? This seems like the best option, and so this is exactly what she's doing.]

[He can never eat ice cream again... If the thought occurs to him, which it hasn't yet. Later he can connect those dots, but for now all he's pieced together is that something is incredibly wrong and wasn't yesterday, so he must have done something. He usually does something wrong, he thinks, so this can't be any different.

But all of that cheerful thinking goes unsaid, mercifully or maybe not so much. His expression twists for a split second when she reaches for him and he is soooo not going to cry, not that it will matter in a second when he stoops down and lets his head hit her shoulder. Give him a moment to find his voice again to mumble, ha ha, if only it were always that easy-]

You okay? ...Gimme a poke or something.

[He can't hear her, so if something happened to her—!!]

[When words are taken out of the equation, even a hug seems incredibly complicated. How is she supposed to reassure him when she can't actually say anything? Through... her actions, clearly, which is why she winds her arms around him, bringing him in a bit closer before she gently leans her head against his. She still wishes that she could talk to him, that she could ask him what he's thinking, but this is the best that she can do for now.

And a poke? Really? He can definitely feel her snort before she uses her thumb to jab him right in the side. She's fine, Okuyasu! She's perfectly fine, actually, because this hug is just as much a comfort to her as it hopefully is to him. She's content to quietly stand here like this until he gets tired of bending down.]

[Hey, respect the poke. At least it makes her sort of laugh, which he can feel when he's as close as he is- and that would be something wholly different to unpack if he weren't in such distress over the missing words- and that's better. Only a little, but he manages a chuckle and a kind of shrug-and-fidget to escape the jab but not the hug.

It's nuanced.] C'mon...

[A poke is the best he can do on short notice! He's not content but he's okay to stand there, hunched over in this quiet hug, while he chills out - he stops telling himself he absolutely did 50 things wrong, at least, before he straightens up and dramatically drags a hand down over his face. This will dispel the residual shitty feelings-!!

Sort of. He still has his other arm around her, and frankly, that is not going away anytime soon. Now then... if he puts two and two together about some other things,] I thought my computer was busted cuz it kept making noise and nothing was there.

[This, too, is unsettling, but he raises an eyebrow down at her - just what was so important, huh?? Please mime it.]

[Even though hugging him is much, much better than silently standing beside him, she follows his lead and pulls away. Just not, you know, too far away, because he's apparently going to leave an arm slung around her? Oh! That... isn't standard hug procedure, to be sure, but she doesn't look bothered by the continued contact; she's too busy getting swept up in what he's saying to even think about it. The laptop! The messages that he didn't purposely ignore! The gold-embossed copies of his super secret poem!

Oof, he... isn't going to like her reward at all, but he deserves to know. Please appreciate her frantic miming as she she points to him, pretends like she's writing something down, and then points to herself. The poem he wrote for her, you see? Hopefully he's following along, because now she's placing that imaginary poem on to one upturned palm and using her other hand to show it growing into an incredibly tall stack. Many poems, Okuyasu! There are so many poems, and dear God, how is he going to understand any of this.]

[Uh, hm. Well, she's definitely trying to tell him something, but whatever it is he's gotten as far as writing stuff down... writing a lot of stuff down? He should write stuff down??]

Okay, I don't follow.

[His proficiency in mind-reading and mime interpretation are both incredibly low! He's giving it his best shot, all the same; trying to charades this out is sillier than staring at writing he just can't see, so it's a good distraction. Not being good at charades has nothing to do with the town, so take that, Mr. F!!!

Anyway, best guess:] Something about... a bunch of stuff?

[This whole pantomiming thing is surprisingly difficult, but hey, look at that—at least he understood half of what she was trying to convey. Progress! She smiles and nods, trying to let him know that, yes, this is indeed about a bunch of stuff. Now she just needs to think of a way to act out a poem...

Or maybe she can show him what she found? It isn't like they're doing anything particularly important here, aside from standing very, very close to one another, and while that's nice... she gives him a questioning look as she points over toward the door. Is he feeling well enough to go on an adventure, or does he need more time to chill?]

[A bunch of stuff somewhere not here? That's right, isn't it, what else could it be! Damn, he's getting good at this charades thing already... He nods; he's definitely not doing anything useful here, and he's already decided he doesn't want to not know where Ochako is when he can't talk to her. So!]

Yeah, let's go.

[Ochako doesn't even think twice about snagging his hand and pulling him along behind her, because holding hands is just a given at this point. They're walking alongside one another? They're holding hands. They're sitting side-by-side? They're holding hands. It's all very natural, very... friendly.

So down the street they go! And at a fairly brisk pace, too, because there's no point in taking a leisurely stroll when they can't talk. It sucks, especially when they zip past people who are talking and laughing and having a halfway decent time, but she tries to ignore it as she glances back to check on him. At least she can hear them.]

[So... friendly. Okuyasu would insist on it if she didn't, so he doesn't think twice about it either. It's actually very handy (ha ha), allowing him to get distracted from where they're going, staring at people with great scrutiny as they pass by. Which is- an experience for the rest of the town, for sure, but this is how he's conducting his very serious test.

He can hear them. It's only Ochako? For real? He's frowning again when she catches his eye, and the best he can do is shrug. The brief repieve of charades is losing steam quickly...]

[She's still operating under the assumption that he can't hear anyone, which is why she gives his hand a sympathetic squeeze. Walking through an eerily quiet town must be rough!!

Luckily, however, Ruga isn't too far away—it only takes few short minutes for them to reach her house, and she wastes no time opening the door and yanking him right up to her room. Is showing him the copies of his poem going to make him feel better, or is it going to make him feel worse? She isn't sure, but she makes sure to keep her eyes on his face as she holds her free arm out toward the stack sitting on her nightstand. Ta-da! Congratulations on becoming a published poet...]

[When will the truth be revealed... when he gets into another shouting match with Mafuyu over presents, surely. Wait for it. Now then, into Ochako's place and up to her room, that's standard fare, and he doesn't understand why she's showing him a stack of shiny paper- a very large stack, damn- until he peers closer and the realization dawns on him slowly but surely.

Like in a horror movie when the protagonist finally realizes who the murderer is. That kind of moment. He picks up the topmost sheet, looking at it, waving it back and forth a little to be sure this is actually happening. Then he puts it back down and flips through a few more, just to confirm—great! Excellent! No one must ever see these.

The look he gives her is still mortified, but not with as much abject terror.]

What the hell? There's like a thousand copies here! And why do they look like that?!

[Please..... mime something!!!]

[Don't ask questions that are impossible for her to answer! She throws her hands into the air as she shrugs, because seriously, it isn't like she put in a request for these gilded copies. Someone—Mr. FFFFFF, probably—has a sick sense of humor.

But just in case he doubts this, here is yet another stunning performance for him to enjoy. Watch her tilt her head to the side, closing her eyes as she rests her cheek against folded hands. This is sleep, right? She was sleeping, but when she woke up—bam! She extends both arms toward the pile of poems, eyes widening dramatically, because finding them on her nightstand was clearly a shocking surprise.]

[This new mime is also incredible-- it's ridiculous enough that the absolute terror of hundreds of his dopey poem being here, in the world where people can find and pick them up ebbs slightly. He'll smuggle them all home and hide them under his mattress forever, that always works—Ochako can keep, like, ten or something. You know, just to have.

More importantly, this mime is easy enough to parse, and even more importantly... well. Okuyasu puts a hand on her shoulder, very seriously. Then puts his other hand on her other shoulder, also very seriously. Maybe it's the fact that he's doing all of the verbal legwork here that inspires him to just say whatever comes to mind, but he's totally prepared this time, just wait--]

Don't cut out on me this time, but all this signal stuff is cute as hell.

[Okay, who wants to play hide the shiny poems!!]

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