[Two wards over...that wasn't a trip Karamatsu could make on foot in a day. Of course he'd been given plenty of money for bus fare as well as potential emergencies, but he wanted to make sure he'd combed the entirety of Akatsuka first before venturing elsewhere. That's why he'd been gone this long, and now he was here...and Ichimatsu still couldn't be found. He was starting to get worried.
What if the only thing left of Ichimatsu was an unmarked grave?
But he couldn't afford to think that way, not when Osomatsu was so ill. He couldn't. He would keep searching for him even if he had to scour the entirety of Japan. That's where he stood currently as he ducked into a nearby convenience store and asked the clerk if they'd seen anyone like Ichimatsu...only to be completely stunned by the admission that some guy with that same description had been buying cat food and- before they could finish, Karamatsu was gone again.
Karamatsu's lungs burned as he ran down the street, his whole body exhausted from his endless search yet still determined not to rest until he could find something, some sign of his younger brother. It was probably fitting in an ironic sort of way that he'd noticed that grubby little cat before he spotted the person next to it. He was so shrouded in the shadow cast by the dumpster that he'd almost missed him. Karamatsu had actually thudded into a telephone pole when he continued rubbernecking as he walked, but it barely phased him for only a moment.
A fraction of a second later he moves to approach, but something stops him. Something makes him hesitate, like...a sharp tugging in his chest trying to pull him back. Ichimatsu, most of all, wouldn't take this sort of news well. But how well is he even, this way? Homeless, dying of starvation in his own right...no, he couldn't.
Karamatsu's throat flexes, completely dry as he crouches down and calls out in a noticably tremulous voice.]
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What if the only thing left of Ichimatsu was an unmarked grave?
But he couldn't afford to think that way, not when Osomatsu was so ill. He couldn't. He would keep searching for him even if he had to scour the entirety of Japan. That's where he stood currently as he ducked into a nearby convenience store and asked the clerk if they'd seen anyone like Ichimatsu...only to be completely stunned by the admission that some guy with that same description had been buying cat food and- before they could finish, Karamatsu was gone again.
Karamatsu's lungs burned as he ran down the street, his whole body exhausted from his endless search yet still determined not to rest until he could find something, some sign of his younger brother. It was probably fitting in an ironic sort of way that he'd noticed that grubby little cat before he spotted the person next to it. He was so shrouded in the shadow cast by the dumpster that he'd almost missed him. Karamatsu had actually thudded into a telephone pole when he continued rubbernecking as he walked, but it barely phased him for only a moment.
A fraction of a second later he moves to approach, but something stops him. Something makes him hesitate, like...a sharp tugging in his chest trying to pull him back. Ichimatsu, most of all, wouldn't take this sort of news well. But how well is he even, this way? Homeless, dying of starvation in his own right...no, he couldn't.
Karamatsu's throat flexes, completely dry as he crouches down and calls out in a noticably tremulous voice.]
Ichimatsu?