standalonehuman | Recolle IC Inbox

When Togusa finds him, he looks uncharacteristically hunched in on himself, like he's trying to be as small and easy to overlook as possible, the hood of his sweater pulled up over his head. James has positioned his empty sleeve as best he can to make it look like it is, in fact, his actual arm draped over his stomach. It isn't quite successful--while at a quick glance he may seem okay, a close look makes it immediately apparent that something is unnatural here.

His leg bounces rapidly and he's got his phone in a death grip and he keeps looking at it every few seconds--not to even do anything on it, just out of a need to do something without causing a scene. He's so wrapped up in his head he doesn't even notice Togusa approaching.

There's a quick wave of nausea that fills Togusa when he spots him, when he can see something wrong. The instinctual human reaction to an injury that he has to fight back down before it shows on his face. This is what they've done to James. What possible reason could it be for?

Togusa tries to look casual about sitting on James' left side, making the lack of his arm less obvious if someone is there. "James." He knows better than to ask how he's doing. The tension crawling out of the kid's form ready to explode is pretty much what he had expected.

James only catches sight of his approach at the last minute. As Togusa sits down on the bench, he watches for something on his face. Sympathy? Horror? Disgust? Pity? It doesn't matter, because James doesn't find any of them. Just as well--he wouldn't know what to do in response to that anyway.

He turns his head back to keep staring at the bushes across the path. Now that Togusa's here, he's not sure what to say. Is there anything to be said at all? It takes him a few minutes to think of it.

"You think their R&D Department is just a bunch of monsters thinking of the most sickening ways to ruin our lives?"

Togusa is usually one of the first to jump to Retrospec's defense. But even he is considering things he usually doesn't. "Maybe if they ruin our lives enough, we'll start deciding that we want to be those other people. Give in to what they're doing."

Togusa's hands sit on his knees, clench tight for a second in anger. "I can't figure out how this is supposed to do anything that they're claiming to want." That comes out tighter, teeth clenched as he speaks.

A second. Breathe. "How is everybody reacting? Do they think it's new, or are they just-" it would be worse if everyone was ignoring it, pretending James has always been this way.

James laughs briefly, and it's somewhere between nervous and bitter. "They're liars, is how. They lie about what they're doing and why, while they just--" He gropes in the air with his hand looking for the right words but he can't find them. He's not sure there even are words for the depravity of what Retrospec is doing--at least to him. He drops his arm, limp against the seat of the bench. "Like I even want to be the other me, if this is what I have to look forward to."

At Togusa's question, though, he looks down at the ground in front of him. He sounds small. "I don't know. Dad leaves for work before I wake up, and I told my sister to go to school without me. The only other person who knows right now is Grell."

“They’d have to be telling us a damn thing in order to be lying about it.” Togusa’s tone matches James’. Bitter. Disgusted at Retrospec.

But Togusa hesitates when he finds out that James’ family doesn’t know yet. “If you want to put it off, then by all means. But,” he doesn’t even have to think about the offer, “look. When you do have to go home, you dont have to do it alone. All right?” Glances at James to show how serious he is about this. “Not trying to do it for you, but if you need help with an explanation...”

Almost as if a switch has flipped in his brain, James's anxious moroseness becomes loud agitation. He suddenly leans forward, glares at Togusa, and begins waving his hand accusatively at Togusa, but then at the empty space on his left side. Contrary to the quiet tone he'd been taking, he is now raising his voice.

"Oh yeah? What the hell kind of 'explanation' could you possibly help with? How could you possibly explain to anyone a decent reason for why I'm suddenly an amputee and how my arm is fully healed in one day?"

By the time he's done, he's yelling.

Somehow, it's better. Seeing James' usual temper come out, the indication that he's still in there actually gives Togusa some relief. "Good. You're not giving up."

Togusa's gaze stays firm, a little angry, himself, and he breathes out sharply. "I don't know yet! But either way, some story needs to get attached to this, and I'm not leaving you to deal with it alone." He's scared to go home, the thought of what his own family would say has to be the most frightening part of all of this.

Togusa swallows hard. "The- healing part, it turns out, that might be the easiest to explain, though. Somehow the local hospital has a surgical option, something from the other Togusa's memories. We can say you got that."

James tries to cross his arms, but of course only manages to shove his forearm against his chest. He gives up on it with a tense, angry flourish. "God damn it."

He forces himself to exhale. "What are you saying, that there is actually a way they could've done surgery on me and fully healed it in less than a day?" This sounds like complete bull.

"No." Togusa shakes his head firmly. "However they're doing this, it's not stealth-surgery. They would have had to do a lot more to remove the arm, themselves. It's more of that unreality bullshit. Push one button, give everybody superpowers. Push another, take away somebody's arm. They need to be stopped."

"But for the immediate problem of 'how to explain this to your family'? The microsurgery will make for a convenient excuse."

"Or maybe not. Grell said she could make me a fake arm."

He sounds less than pleased about it, but, well, anything short of getting his actual real arm reattached was always going to be unsatisfactory.

Togusa's eyebrows raise in surprise and interest. "That's quick, but good." One way to short-cut Togusa's anger, surprise him. "I wasn't going to immediately jump to a prosthetic, but, if you can get it, then all the better."

"She said it's not a prosthetic, it'd just be...a dummy that looks like the real thing, but completely useless. I won't be able to do anything with it, but...it'll at least buy me some time."

Enough time to formulate a better plan, anyway. He can walk around for a little while with the fake arm while he thinks up a strategy for the long term and how best to ease everyone in his life into it. Maybe come up with a decent excuse for it.

And thankfully, that reassurance that he'll be able to have some time to sort things out and breathe is enough to get James to calm down. If only just a little. It's the only thing he's been able to actually rely on in all the chaos so far.

"You'll need time to get fitted for a proper one," Togusa nods in agreement. "If- that's how you want to go, then all right." It's James' life, he's the one that has to live with this.

"My offer stays open. When it comes time to give an explanation, I'll be there to help, all right? Something that you can agree on and live with." Maybe if he just- avoids his dad for a few days? Yeah. Yeah, that would work.

~~This is a plan only a teenager would come up with~~

Fitted for a proper one. It makes it sound so permanent, inevitable. Like he truly has no other options--the arm is gone, and he needs a prosthetic. Which, objectively, he knows--but to hear it aloud like this makes it feel all the more real and all the more terrifying.

He wants to wrap his arms around himself all of a sudden but surprise, he can't. So instead, he grips his shoulder.

"Yeah...yeah. Thanks."

~~(In his defense, Grell came up with this one!)~~

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