( he'll honor Eichi's wishes and not "play around" too much, because a performance isn't any fun if it's only upsetting or worrying the person he wants to entertain. Wataru instead keeps beneath awnings and pillars of storefronts, moving along a street as quick as he can, behind erected markets of colorless foods served swiftly and, amazingly, quietly. he can feel the other man behind him practically burrowing into his hair, melting against for what he can only imagine is relief from the throes of his sickness. whatever pain he was in, Watar will have to vanquish it as soon as possible.

his heels cut quickly across cobblestone and pavement, gaze darting to and fro as he moves through a small neighborhood to get to what he's pretty sure is the water's scent, what he's pretty sure is its sound, if his own heartbeat doesn't get in the way. )

You've gone quiet on me, just as I'm teleporting you to your destination. ♪ You often fade away before the good part. How tragic. ( a pause as he thinks he sees-- no, false alarm. clear. )

So very quiet. Hey, say something for me, yes?