2025-12-01: Bleach
- Log: Bleach
- Cast: Shiryuu Ryouhara, Myunghon Yeo
- Where: The Cardboard Dragon
- OOC Date: Dec 01 2025
- IC Date: Aug 19 2012
- Summary: What is the weight of a name stained with blood?
<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
It's a quiet night at the Cardboard Dragon and Myunghon Yeo is, quite frankly, exhausted. The trip to Eiji's Palace was quite mortifying, and they've found themself relying on the mask of Merry harder and harder that it their thoughts are becoming more and more of a blur lately. Perhaps it really was, as So-young would put, time for a break. They're pretty terrible at taking a break, though, and 'taking a break' ultimately involves vigorously chipping away at the leads from the documents they received from the Palace to set various events and agents in motion...
They've changed to one of their button-down ruffle blouses, though the ribbon tie is loosened and slack over their neck, with a matching inverted pleat skirt and leggings underneath. They just have one Koala slipper half-slipped on and the other has dropped somewhere under the coffee table, and they have a cup of cold tea that they've long forgotten and a somewhat sizeable stack of Koala March crackers.
The black Cognitive Coat is hung a ways away, on a coat rack.
Now for Shiryuu, the Cardboard Dragon is a three-storey old building from the late 70s that looks like it hasn't received much love at all. The ground floor is a nice diner called SUNNY DAY, and unrelated to his interests -- and the Cardboard Dragon itself starts on the second floor in what looks like a repurposed office, though the front door is inconveniently barred by a large cactus (Johnny-kun), so one has to go around the back into an alleyway and up the fire escape where they find it...
Locked!!
It is past store hours and they don't expect customers, after all. There's another method of egress above at the balcony, but it involves going through the mouldy, dilapidated third floor of a Hell Nightmare that Myunghon Yeo calls a home.
... but. Y'know. The light is on, so.
Maybe one could knock?!
Take the Cardboard Dragon into another bridge realm?!
Brave the dangers of the Nightmare Hell Bedroom?!
Decide, shinobi!
<Pose Tracker> Shiryuu Ryouhara has posed.
Shiryuu spends a lot of time with his arms folded in front of Johnny-kun. The cactus should, theoretically, not pose a meaningful impediment at all to a trained onmitsu, whose skills at infiltration are with few parallel, even amongst shinobi. The Ryouhara clan are ninja mechanists -- it is fairly safe to say that most mundane locks don't pose any resistance at all to them.
But the front door is not barred by a mundane lock.
Honestly, there's something about the size of this spiny not-bush that really bothers Shiryuu Ryouhara. And to his merit, the young man does try to circumvent it, but there's simply no negotiating with the vibe. The boy tersely decides, in his wisdom as shihaisha, that he wants nothing to do with the weird succulent thing, and leaves.
That would have been the end of it, were it not vitally important that he get ahold of the proprietor. What limited intel he had access to (that's the _point_ of contracting a Rumormonger, after all..) points here, and it took some time to find the place to where he could reasonably expect that Merry to be in and everyone else to be out.
That's how you get the gentle stir of wind as Ryouhara alights on the fire escape, landing on a lower railing, only to 'hup' and catch a higher rail in one hand, otherwise soundlessly flicking himself up one more level. The blade of a knife slides between sill and sash, shimming with a near-silent hiss of metal.
No, it's important that his arrival not be suspected by anyone else who could overhear. Going through the living spaces, anyway, allows him to start the conversation off from a place of strength and further intelligence.
Or such was the onmitsu's rationale.
He's actually probably just still annoyed because there was a cactus in his way at the front door. The time for knocking on doors politely is long since over.
<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
Johnny-kun is in fact a perfectly inert, unmoving plant. You could even move Johnny-kun's base, it's not like anyone's stopping you, but... ... it's the vibe. It's the guardian of the Cardboard Dragon. (Also the front door's actual lock is so totally mundane it probably counts as insulting to Shiryuu, but, y'know, Johnny.)
Shiryuu effortlessly rises through the fire escape ranks, and reaches the third floor where... where...
Where do we even begin with this. First of all, this isn't even a residental place. It's clearly just another office floor that's been repurposed into something... like a home. Look, that's a men's bathroom there!! There's like, a urinal and all!!
Also the walls are dilapidated and ghastly, with black mould growing all over it -- there's been attempts to wash it off with bleach and detergent, but that's just given the place more of a uniquely unpleasant stench of /both/ bleach and mold. It's like how one vampire killer isn't enough to fight off a hundred, or... something like that.
If that wasn't enough, something is dripping from above where a brave plastic bucket is still tanking the leak. That corner of the building's ceiling is so shocking that it should've collapsed last rainy season, but somehow hasn't, but clearly doesn't have left to live. The ceiling tiles are rotting and soggy.
And ontop of that?! The actual living situation is so... sad. There's a hard, lumpy futon in the middle, and a small minifridge just plugged to the wall sitting on the floor. There's not so much 'furniture' as 'a big stack of boxes like someone just hasn't bothered to actually decorate or take their things out', with only a sad plastic rack you could get at Daiso hanging some of their clothes up. The familiar white and black suits and suit-pants of Rumourmonger Merry.
It's so... desolate. Who lives like this. Are they even living? Are they alive?
The knocked-over bottle of disinfectant dripping slowly onto the worn tile floors is a statement. There's like a pile of box cutters just scattered around with a whole bunch of bandages nearby, and a whole lotta duct tape.
Mercifully, the way down into the Cardboard Dragon itself is open.
<Pose Tracker> Shiryuu Ryouhara has posed.
His eye is burning and for once, it has nothing to do with his kegare level.
Well, you wanted more intel right? This is what it looks like. To be fair, there are a whole range of emotions Shiryuu goes through as he slips through the window and puts his Converse collab -right- down in a puddle of moldy(?) disinfectant.
It's at that point Shiryuu grimaces, at ground zero of a very subdued and quiet crash out. Honestly, the cactus was entirely bad enough, but the unguided tour of the upstairs premises is grounds for outright rancor. Shaking off the sole of his sneaker with sharp, balanced kicks, the young man looks around. Subconsciously, he unshoulders and unbags his sword, the dark sheathed length of Bonds of Black held idly in one hand.
He stares at the fridge in the middle of the -- is it an office? Is it a living space? Why is there a couch -and- a bathroom with a urinal? It better be clean. He moves to investigate further --
squeek.
Shiryuu pauses, mid-step. Though it is near impossible to otherwise hear or feel him, his wet sneaker squeaks sharply on the tile floor the moment he gets closer to the middle, like a gunshot in the dark. Shiryuu tests the floor again. squeek.
...he sighs, in a Sisphyean effort to be quiet.
"....yeah, makes sense."
"...Do you have a Mafreila card," Shiryuu asks politely, nonsequitur of a few minutes after that.
A set of very rare, well-maintained Converse Weapon x SAMURAI collaborative editions drop to the floor of the Cardboard Dragon, unceremonious and loud. The young man is almost barefoot, just wearing truncated no-show socks by the time he strides into the second level of the aging building. But shoes or no, he is still extremely armed.
<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
The minifridge is completely empty save for some medications that have to be refrigerated. It's really, really sad, actually.
Shiryuu can hear a gasp from downstairs, and soon, the squeaks do bring a jumpy Myunghon up the stairs in Koala slippers with a look of terror in their face holding... holding... well, their laptop which they look like they're ready to use as a whapping instrument to smack him in the face with.
Which, at least Shiryuu has as a small victory over the Rumourmonger -- but then they sigh and place their hand over their face, and replace it with a rather vivacious smile as Merry says, "I've had something of a ninja infestation on my bedroom as of late. Should I start to expect more visits like this, hmm?"
They gesture as Shiryuu makes their demand and leads them down towards the Cardboard Dragon itself, which is actually kinda comfortable and cozy and very clean. ... which might make no sense, but, well, this is the commercial front where people are welcome and that space is only for they themself. Which does speak volumes about their sense of well-being.
"It has been a while! I have made progress on your request, but I would like to make some items more certain before I present them," Merry dramatically declares as they guide Shiryuu, no trace of that terrified-looking person left on the surface of their face. "Would you like some tea? It is quite late, but we night-dwellers keep odd hours, I do understand."
And the request isn't forgotten either, as they move towards a certain binder that even Shiryuu from this distance can feel has cognitive power, humming as they draw one particular requested card out. "I do, in fact, have one copy. This is quite rare, however. Shall we negotiate...?"
<Pose Tracker> Shiryuu Ryouhara has posed.
"Mmm." Yeah, he had to take his shoes off to avoid making noise, but the damage is already done. He will admit, it's a bit of an awkward situation to be caught in, going through an ally's things in the dark. Little more than a dark silhouette across the office floor, the boy changes his grip on his sword, taking it by the hilt and bracing the spine-side of the saya on his shoulder. His shoes dangle suspended from the fingertips of his free hand as he gives Merry and their weapon a withering look.
"... you'll need a bigger laptop, for that sort of thing."
Luckily, the situation is mostly sorted out due to the facts that Shiryuu has less than zero impulse to fight in these sorts of conditions, and Merry's star power is enough to light the dim little space all on its own. Not to mention the lead-in. "I didn't sanction any of that," he tells them of ninjas in their bedroom. Which sounds an awful lot like a PopCap game, the boy muses. The lead downstairs is mostly uneventful, aside.
"...like night and day," the boy muses, mostly to himself as Merry leads him through his paces with stunning ease. Temporarily forgetting the problem of replacement socks, the boy pads onto the floor of the shop, fast eyes flicking this way and that. His discomfort is tepid, still, and he peers at Merry's flourish as they note the investigation. The prospect of details evokes a tiny, subvocal sound in the back of his throat.
There's still a lot left to do. Get it together, Ryouhara. Why -are- you even doing ... this? Why, of all things, does this matter to you?
The notion seems to temporarily unman the boy, his gaze focused on the middle distance to the point where he only seems to distantly be aware of the concept of words. "....aa," Ryouhara shakes his head. No tea. "Do you have any pear juice," he asks, idly.
The power of the card draws his attention, causing the onmitsu to look up, broken of whatever spell held him. "...hold it for me for now," Ryouhara replies, evenly. "It'll be worth your while."
The sheathed sword lowers, the tip of the saya resting close to his shoes. "I know it's a little baroque to ask.. but I need to ask you some questions, and they can't be repeated. I'm guessing we'll need to barter for that, first."
<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
The brief glance of Myunghon holding their laptop looking like they're about to scream is, perhaps, the most honest glance Shiryuu's received into Rumourmonger Merry's personality, but they've already sidled into their so-called role as a Rumourmonger now in their presence, seemingly vivacious and -- invincible, their black coat draped over their shoulders as they hum as the request of pear juice and move to the minifridge.
(This minifridge is for the customers, so it's actually stocked with beverages.)
"You are in luck!" Merry pulls a can out, and the Coat actually slithers out with a ribbon to pass the beverage to Shiryuu from a far distance. "I didn't believe it would be popular, but what did I know?"
They're still playing with that Mafreila card with deft skill, rather comfortable with sleight of hand tricks, as they move back towards the couch and coffee table. "Hm. What a curious request. Very well! I look forward to seeing how this fits into your plans," Merry remarks with interest, their eye glancing towards that sword as he lowers it. It's a gesture, much like their use of the Coat, perhaps.
''I didn't sanction it,'' was the comment Shiryuu made earlier, which sounds like a joke in and out of itself, but it does imply... /leadership/, doesn't it.
They file that little snippet away, a happy little accident given that Myunghon's joke is that /Umie/ has been in their bedroom. Perhaps Shiryuu would be offended. "You've come to the right place for information, but yes, the right kind of information in turn shall see you far... Shiryuu Ryouhara-kun."
The Rumourmonger lets themself fall back as if they were going to collapse onto the floor, but then their coat stiffens and forms something like a Dracula Throne made of fabric that they cross their legs on. This... would be really dramatic if they weren't still wearing their cute Koala slippers. Maybe Draculas have bedtime clothes too.
"You /are/ a very fascinating individual to me, and I look forward to what it is you have need of."
<Pose Tracker> Shiryuu Ryouhara has posed.
Luckily, Shiryuu is busy thinking of clans such as the Aomori when it comes to 'people in Merry's bedroom,' and not Umie. Certainly, those no-accounts would explain the mold, or the mold would explain the presence of the no-accounts. Even so, it's hard to shake off that one single frame of their eyes.. the shock there, and the wariness. It was almost like...
'You are in luck!' "!" Shiryuu is struck from his thoughts by catching the bottle out of the air as that cognitive coat starts slithering all over the place. "...." Is that a look of satisfaction? "...thanks," Shiryuu replies, using the end of his sword to slide his shoes over to the first step of the stairs, one at a time. The exercise is efficient, but nothing compared to the flourish of the Rumormonger. Comparably, Shiryuu is noticeably more subtle.
Even when the deft Merry points out in no uncertain terms that they've been studying up. "..."
Slowly, the onmitsu is forced to look up incrementally, the folds and curves of fabric forming the boards and legs of a grand throne indeed, putting Shiryuu at a noticeable, if slight, height disadvantage.
"....The skirt looks nice," Ryouhara remarks haltingly. "I could put you in touch with my guy, if you wanted Nike," he says of the saccharine koalas. "Or Hello Kitty, I guess..."
He appears to be completely serious about that.
The young man sits on that note, cracking the juice with a tiny hiss. Mitsuya. Nice. He tilts back, not wasting more time, and his throat is visible as he drinks. AAaa. Wet lips and a visibly more relaxed onmitsu a moment later. "Well," he points out, not at all appearing to mind that sitting means now he is simply -beneath- Merry in most of the ways that's important.
"..I can give you two pieces of information. Normally, it wouldn't go this far... but the first piece of information is related. I'm going to ask you what you know about the Joker Killer."
The sheathed blade lays back, across his shoulder as he holds his bottle in both hands, looking up without tilting his head, a pair of dark brown eyes sharp and cold beneath a silvery spray of bangs.
The implication is clear. He wouldn't be telling under normal circumstances.
"...because it's my intention to summon him, and kill him."
<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
Myunghon hasn't had Reiya Aomori crash into their bedroom yet. Mitsuru got to them first, but that's not to say they won't land the Phantom Triple Crown of Three Ninjas Kick Back now that they've secured visits from Shiryuu and Akabane and the Phantom Thieves if they piss off the Kirijo heir for some reason. Can they do it? They're in the lead! This is their season to lose now!
They don't particularly budge as Shiryuu does the gymnastics of moving his shoes across without -- perhaps -- touching anything else that might sully it in here. But they do react when Shiryuu comments on their skirt, their expression growing a touch more complicated. It is true that Myunghon was dressed in their suit the last time, and this time, they're noticeably more femme.
"You do seem the guy I should ask if I wanted sports footwear," Merry does observe, their eye still wide and appraising. "Are Koalas not wonderful? You should listen, sometime, to the whispers the glucose can provide to us--"
A pause.
"They seem to approve of you too, the Koalas. So as they are, so they shall be, from even before sugar was granted names by those who practice al-kimiya, or even further before."
There's a hum as they get to business, with Shiryuu seeming to approve of the pear juice. They'll have to keep in mind to stock more. "Hm. Two pieces of information... but you wish to know of the Joker Killer, hmm?"
The smile only grows ever wider. Now this is even more fascinating. They thought them to run parallel or perhaps perpendicular to the NWO, with how they'd interacted with Yua -- they haven't forgotten about the strangulation, yet there's more here to uncover... but now they want to summon and kill him?
"I imagine you have heard by now that the simplest way, of course, is to call your own cell phone number and state your own name," Merry points out. "This is an old rumour -- the very start of the Joker Killings. As for the man himself...? You've seen his gruesome videos online, his call-outs... some friends of mine have been targetted."
A longer pause, and they lean forward. "They've even been here, to threaten me indirectly."
Merry looks rather too excited at that, not unlike when they first met Shiryuu and they broke into violence. "They possess a strong command over flame, and subsequently do not do well against frost or cold. Their blade is deadly even at a distance, and they can summon Demons as backup -- though they prefer to use them as distractions, not a killing method. And they are very elusive, as they have the ability to simply teleport away."
There's another hum of delight, and they say, "There is more, such as 'who is he, really?' but... I'd like to hear from you first, now that I've laid the first set of cards out."
<Pose Tracker> Shiryuu Ryouhara has posed.
Shiryuu drops his gaze incrementally, to the koalas. It's worth noting that the young man doesn't really seem to clock that Merry was wearing a suit before, and is wearing a different code entirely now. Masks are the nature of this world they live in, and for those who walk in the neon-lit dark...
....well, it's only important to Shiryuu that it looks good.
The young man seems to listen in earnest for a moment, slowly lifting the juice bottle to his lip as he considers the proprietor's obvious delight. Well, it's true enough -- the young man, despite all but swimming in all of the layers of clothes he wears, each article he wears is just two shades shy of custom, if not entirely personalized to him. It would make the lack of fit strange if Merry didn't look very closely, to tell where his clothes are tied in place, where they shift, how they move.
Some creatures are loose in their hides, making it very hard to get an effective bite.
Shiryuu doesn't hear anything, but the onmitsu is not known for making comments where they do not need to be made.
"... I wouldn't know," he instead decides, in the most pensive way. The idea of koalas whispering secrets about him is an uncomfortable notion, especially coming from someone whose coat is closer in relation to octopus than outerwear.
"I'm not going to have to have to pick up his slack, am I.." Ryouhara wonders, without actually asking. Their last battle -- and the look in their eye -- confirmed for Shiryuu that Merry was quite enamored with the cognitive arts, and a battle where life and death are on the line. He pointedly does not frame his thinking as a benefit for Merry, then. But...
There are the smaller details, the small factors, and the fact that the killer can disappear at will. It's interesting. But..
"... if I can track him," Ryouhara points out, "he won't outrun me."
No one really can.
Shiryuu sets the pear juice down at his side on the step, sliding his shoes into play anew. He's going to have to wash them later, he decides, because he slides his feet back into the shoes one at a time, snugging the shoelaces around the dark fabric and against the grommets as he laces and ties with quick, sharp movements.
"I'm told," he says, to make it clear, "That you can give the killer any name after he answers, and that he will come and kill that person." The sound of his shoelaces being cinched fills the air for a few moments. "I intend to give him a name."
"The name that belongs to me."
<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
On the front of quality, at the very least, Merry's girlclothes are of nice quality -- the kind that's tailored for them and has a lot of nostalgia, not sent off the press and mass produced. (Arguably their suits are much cheaper. But they do care for them well, and perhaps that counts for a lot. Tsumugi's coat, however, is of resplendent quality...)
It's much the same, perhaps, for them as it is for Shiryuu, in the way they pick and choose which articles are custom, and where others are not, the way they seem to blend from one outfit to another in their quest to be between genders and what that means.
Will Shiryuu have to pick up his slack? "Ara," Merry pips up in surprise with a smile. "No, you have not come for battle tonight. You yourself must know that there is a time and a place for it to be truly meaningful, and I myself think we have much more fascinating topics at present."
It's quite true that Merry finds Shiryuu fascinating -- not just his powers, but his seeming demeanor and what lies underneath, and what he quests for as well... it's not everyday you come across someone like that.
Shiryuu has an interesting affirmation -- if he can track him... he won't outrun him.
Merry's seen that firsthand.
"There is a sink on the kitchenette, if it pleases," Merry does offer, gesturing towards another part of the shop. But they assume that such shoes can't just be rinsed -- perhaps he has a special ritual for cleaning them, at least to soothe himself, if not strictly necessary.
But Shiryuu's plan is one that Merry's heard before -- and there's a pause even as their smile turns a bit rigid. "You can. I've had to convince some other foolhardy people from doing so, and I know for a fact that that does work..."
A pause. "But I'd advise against it. There is /something/ in the conspiracy that makes the Joker Killings work that we do not see, Ryouhara-kun, and we know there is one -- the police, the government, the media... even the very telecoms infrastructure that enables these calls. I don't believe that their plot begins and ends with just the Joker Killer..."
Myunghon bobs their head, looking softer -- perhaps even concerned for him -- then decides to throw Shiryuu a freebie. "... because I know how my father's mind works, and I know him to be high involved in this conspiracy. To play into their hand is to sacrifice."
Something about the way Shiryuu says it is fascinating, though -- 'the name that belongs to me'. Not just 'me', or 'my name'. Why the distinction?
Merry's back, that vivacious smile that looks like they can revolutionise the world, a moment later. "Here's my number, Ryouhara-kun. I'll keep you updated on the Joker Killer's movements, if you give me one in turn -- a burner account, it matters not to me."
<Pose Tracker> Shiryuu Ryouhara has posed.
"It's fine, for now," Shiryuu comments absently, smoothing out the wrinkles in the heavy nylon upper of the Poorman Weapons. He's very particular with them, almost as much as he is with the way he pulls a small kerchief from his obi and draws the saya of his sheathed sword with it next, restoring the lacquer to it matte gleam. Red bag undone from his bag, and tugged down the length of the blade, until it can be tied shut. The latter at least is a concession to legality over style -- very few police officers in Japan will allow you to open carry a sword in public. Even so, the sword bag mantles his pack exactly, secured in place for the draw. "I'll clean up when I get back."
Notably, he doesn't use the word 'home.'
The shinobi is listening, and it's entirely likely he's avoiding the subject, or rather, the notion of having to reply to a warning. As he works, they will notice the way his attention catches on certain things. A foolhardy plan -- that is known to work? So it's been tried before..
But the world moves in ways that are far deeper than the Joker Killer, they point out. They know, from a source that's closer to heart than one would think. "....your father," the boy notes evenly.
"It seems like we are all paying the price for the sins of those that came before... 'Rumormonger Merry.'
The boy's fingers interlock, his gaze focused tightly. Pensive, intense, as his attention wanders away from the immediacy of the moment, as he locks into some other rhythm entirely. His energy, this close, is like a hole in space.
Rumormonger Merry. "A name that belongs to someone that 'knows.' Someone wise, someone who can change the world with a word. That was ... not the name I was given."
There is a sensation of the boy clinging to a notion tightly, no matter how the beat jostles it on the wave. "I was given the name that decides. The name that carries the blood of fate. The name that is cursed to exist only in the dark. It is the name of sacrifice for 'the ultimate good,' and the will to find out which is which."
His breath is sword-long as he sighs. If they're paying attention, Merry would be able to feel the slightest oscillation in his tone. A tiny, searing doubt, that burns as fast as a moth in candleflame. "This killer threatened a person ..." he blinks slowly, deliberately, as the words die casually, killed before they're spoken. "... and I, whom decides everything, won't abide it. That's why, against every warning, I will find that man, and put a blade through his heart. It is the nature of 'shinobi' to sacrifice. And I, above all and before any child, am the first to lay down."
Another blink. Faster now, as if stumbling out of a fever dream, as if becoming suddenly self-conscious. ".... at least, I suppose they're pretty enough words to say." He nods, quickly, to the proffered number, accepting it. Ostensibly, he'll reply in kind. However, the number is not returned immediately, the young man currently into downing the rest of the juice, throwing his head back as if eager to end the conversation there.
".....thank you," he says, without explaining what. "I will give you the second piece of information now."
<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
Merry's had the chance to observe Shiryuu twice now. And there is a certain fastidiousness in him -- a sense of /order/ -- to how he cares for both his shoes and his swords, the way he turns his nose at certain things and favours others, that convey a sense of how he carries his life. It's rigid, but there's a certain kind of logic to it. ... it kind of reminds them of how they used to be.
It isn't home. When he gets back.
As if he were always on the job. The mission. Duty.
"Seiichirou Yukichi," they freely share, no love lost there, clearly. The CEO of a health and pharmaceutical company that was embroiled in scandal some two years ago. 'Yukichi' and 'Yeo', though, are a gulf apart, not just in name, but nationality. "I know that he is still involved in their schemes. Indeed..."
Does Shiryuu include himself in that? His own parents?
Perhaps that's what leads their interest in him. He makes analogies to what Rumourmonger Merry might mean. Someone who knows. Someone wise... who can change the world with a word, a command. ... but that wasn't his.
His name is the one that decides -- a cursed, bloody name, rife with fate and sacrifice. It's a very... Japanese concept, isn't it -- that's the first thing Merry thinks of, anyway, perhaps already drawing the traditional image of shinobi even before Shiryuu says it. Those who lurk in the dark, who must fall swords and also fall upon swords should it be required.
"Those names are not so dissimilar as you think," is what Merry shares, after he shares the weight of his name.
There's blood on this side too...
But there's also something else fascinating with the way Shiryuu speaks -- his tone shifted... it's small, and they won't draw attention to it, but for those like he and them, who portray such masks, the slightest deviation can be critical. Much like how they presented the vulnerable 'Myunghon' earlier, so much more a human being who bleeds and sheds tears, as opposed to Rumourmonger Merry, the revolutionary who must become greater than flesh and bone.
The threat to a person. ... so it's personal? Someone of some affection, perhaps great, was threatened by the Joker Killer. And this is a slight -- a personal one.
"They're heavy words, and I don't doubt you're very familiar with their weight," Merry offers in turn. "What I'm offering you -- is efficiency. A word can change the world, it is true -- but a single shadow is but blotted within the light."
Their coat slithers on the ground, as if to illustrate this point, growing and growing further until it feels like a good few feet out from where they're seated can all be consumed in shadows, much like that time it feels as if they could swallow Shiryuu into another dimension.
"But a shadow in darkness is limitless in reach. It is like how distance holds no meaning in your world," Merry points out.
They don't press on what Shiryuu means for 'thank you' -- Merry's number is given and that's their way of reaching out. It's on his own time he can return it -- or not. And now... a second piece of information!
<Pose Tracker> Shiryuu Ryouhara has posed.
"A name..." he wonders aloud, briefly.
Just like that, the steel, the doubt, the words -- they're all gone, dissipated like mist stirred by the wind. Shiryuu is not by nature extremely talkative, so as he finishes that godsend of a bottle, the boy politely suppresses a sound with a fist over his lips, aftereffects of the carbonation taking the place of a real response as he listens, cautiously avoiding giving away too much more to his far wiser compatriot.
It is worth noting that Shiryuu places high value on the concept of 'wisdom,' and equates it readily to Merry specifically, if not the rumormongers as a whole. It is not the same type of intelligence he attributes to himself. There is a distinction. The burden to decide vs. the ability to know what to decide. It's why the boy doesn't flinch when the tendrils of darkness seethe and grow around the bright spot of light in the room, fingery rays of fabric melting into a tenebrous grip on a certain corona of space around them.
Some part of Shiryuu spurs his head to tilt slightly as he looks at the display. Some part of him, an eternally alert thread going straight to his mind and bones, wonders about it. Absently, does it mean that it's the limit of their powers in this context? No... he knows for a fact that the veil of that coat can spread further. But the moonburst from that throne has a meaning, and his mind instinctively latches onto it, until he can turn it back to the name of the father. It's a thought he keeps coming back to. There were so many of those names, now. Perhaps they are...
"...mm."
The boy, nominally unreadable, is very transparently in thought as he takes a long time to tuck the bottle into the webbing of his shoulder pack. He's very much the 'take trash with him' sort.
What I am offering is efficiency. "Iih," Shiryuu vocalizes, pressing his open hands to his knees to stand. "You've already given me a lot. Haa... what kind of contractor would I be, to fall so deeply into the debt of a rumormonger..."
It's not really a question. "Besides.."
His closest hand goes to his shoulder strap, tightening as he thoughtfully holds onto it. "If another person were to be killed because I waited to make a decision... I c--"
"...." His mouth pulls into that tight frown.
"...it's an unacceptable situation we find ourselves in."
Two fingers are held up briskly, though his body language is relaxed. The second piece of information. "In the mean time. I've issued an unbreakable order to all of the blades and eyes of the crows over Shinano. A no-limits protection decree for the Ijuuin clan, and all of their family. It should be known to those who want to avoid the peerless judgment of exquisite steel: Endangering those who carry the Ijuuin kamon will be considered one and the same as offending the darkest night itself..."
The young man is already stepping away.
"As part of my gratitude, use it for your own purposes..."
<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
A part of Myunghon does bleed, as they inevitably bleed for the youths around them; they can't know the full extent of Shiryuu's circumstance, but in them they see a similar youth with an impossible burden placed on their shoulders, much like one was placed on them from an early age. They superficially bear no resemblance -- one fated to the cursed shadows, to deal in blood and sacrifice, the other the meteoric heights of corporate loftiness, to play amongst the sinful garden of those most privileged...
... and yet, ultimately, Myorei Yukichi was a trained killer. She just killed with spreadsheets, not katana.
Perhaps that is still the difference Shiryuu draws -- the ability to know what to decide. They are free, after all, are they not? With their body frail and in bandages, but free nonetheless.
There's a quiet little smile as Shiryuu makes the gesture of taking his trash with him. It's such a small gesture, but it speaks much to his sense of responsibility and manners. "A contractor must deal in contracts, hmm? As a Rumourmonger inevitably must deal in rumours."
But the decision hangs low over him -- if another one were to be killed because he wanted, then...
...
That would be a dereliction of duty, would it not.
But Shiryuu provides a rather strong piece of information -- not just the meat of the topic, that a protection decree is in place over the Ijuuin clan (and Myunghon instantly knows what that means, beyond just Miho -- having been drawn publicly through Kimitake, that would apply to Yua too, when her marriage is officiated) -- 'the crows over Shinano'. What a wonderful phrase, hearkening back to a different time period of this land... and also it confers a lot of information over just /what/ kind of forces Shiryuu has command over.
"... until later, then, Ryouhara-kun. I look forward to unciphering this riddle of yours."
Merry continues to be seated on their throne, imperious in demeanor, until Shiryuu leaves. They give it a minute, and then... the throne is dispelled, and then--
Myunghon flops bonelessly to the ground and tucks into themself and finally allows themself a good and ugly cry from the fright of the thought of once again being threatened and assaulted in their own home by an assailant.