3413/White Eyes, Bakeneko

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White Eyes, Bakeneko
Date of Scene: 18 September 2020
Location: Somewhere in Metropolis
Synopsis: Courtney and Sarah meet Katsumi and try to reassure and destress her. It doesn't go well.
Cast of Characters: Courtney Whitmore, Sarah Rainmaker, Katsumi Oshiro




Courtney Whitmore has posed:
A month or so ago, Courtney Whitmore moved to Metropolis. She'd started out at NYU, but managed to get a very good scholarship to Met U and... well, it's the city of big heroes, right? Superman, Supergirl. Someday Courtney hopes to stand among them, recognized one of the greats. And to this end she has started patrolling the streets of Metropolis most evenings, bouncing around with the help of the cosmic belt she wears around her waist.

And she has discovered rapidly that in a city where Superman and Supergirl are so prominent, it is often the case that there isn't much to do on patrol.

She's been bouncing around for a couple of hours now, as at the very least it's good exercise. But eventually she has grown bored and in dire need of coffee. And so she shrugs on a sweatshirt over her spandex top and slips the domino mask off her face. The result is, she looks like any other fit college student in work-out wear as she enters the nearest Star City Coffee and heads for the counter.

Sarah Rainmaker has posed:
    Much like Courtney, Sarah is a student at NYU attempting to transfer over to Met U for various reasons. Mostly that she's aiming at being a Titan...and it helps to be in the same city as the Titan base rather than having to commute. It's still a matter of time and bureaucracy to get it set up, however, so she's taking a moment at the same coffee shop to work through the paperwork needed for the transfer, and to go over the courses she's taking that will transfer and those she'll have to make up next semester. She has a cup of chai in front of her, steaming, that she sips from occasionally, her long legs crossed, dressed in jeans and a snug fitting salmon shirt, with rolled up short sleeves, a few pendants worn around her neck and her long black hair drawn back in a loose plait behind her. Her Apache heritage is definitely easy to see in her features, though they're softened with European elements.

Katsumi Oshiro has posed:
Katsumi Oshiro has had an interesting time of it since she landed in America a couple days ago. She's been to the States a number of times in the past, but never under circumstances this momentous, and never under such duress. Blacking out, her legs falling out from beneath her, passing out mid-sentence, acute fatigue - and yet seeming to be in peak physical health. The most the doctor could figure yesterday was stress. And there's some merit to it. Katsumi has never been under more pressure to perform well than she is now; staring down the barrel of her career. Either it takes off like never before, or it becomes a missed opportunity. She hasn't had a 'mama's spaghetti' moment yet, but her insides have remained knotted for much of her time here so far.

She maybe needed away from the big, ominous city for a day to clear her head and surround herself with different scenery. So she took the quick transit over to Metropolis, and frankly, she can hardly tell the difference. It's just another big, imposing city filled with foreign people and English words. Had the PR campaign reached this city yet? So far she's pretty sure the looks she's been getting are due to her daring attire, less so for recognition as a grappler.

And speaking of the attire, she's easily the least conservative of those present: a black tanktop with foux 'slashes' across the chest, giving a window beyond the outer fabric to... well, no scandalous skin, but a second layer beneath it. The tanktop is cut considerably short, however, leaving the span of her midsection bare. Hip-hugging black shorts looped with a belt featuring a silver feline head-shape for the buckle. Long legs end in sneakers and fluffy socks, and for accessories, fingerless leather gloves and a narrow black choker centered in gold coin.

After spending much of the day in the city, she's wound up in the coffee shop, just arriving after Courtney. Suspecting she's in line, she qeues up behind her, hands linked behind her back with an idle sway to her hips. Her eyes - presently /extremely/ pale green to near-white - are glued to the menu up ahead.

Courtney Whitmore has posed:
Courtney can easily see the differences between New York and Metropolis, really. New York is a 20th century city, showing the wear of centuries on the faces of its stone and concrete skyscrapers. Sure, there are a few that are newer, brighter, but on the whole, New York is a city that has seen pain and never fully recovered.

Metropolis is a 22nd century city a century early. Its buildings are glass and steel and aluminum, shining in the day and the night. It is the promise of tomorrow.

Courtney may be a little bit enamored of her new home.

She recognizes Sarah from campus, though can't put a name to the woman's face. The number of Native Americans on campus is not in the single digits, but it's not large. Even among that crowd, though, the tall, beautiful young woman stands out. Courtney, not knowing her name, nor even what year she's in, but thinking she might share a seminar class with Sarah, waves to the woman from her spot in line, and then notices the Japanese woman behind her. Not that Courtney would state her nationality as a certainty. She's pretty sure, but she'd hate to call a Korean woman Japanese or something like that. Offense would be possible.

Still, for a moment she can't take her eyes off Katsumi. "Wow!" she says. "Are those contacts?"

Sarah Rainmaker has posed:
    The wave draws Sarah's attention as she's in the process of sipping from her drink, her brows rising slightly as she tilts her head. She...thinks she knows that girl? In her history class, she thinks. She waves back, smiling slightly in a friendly way, then at Courtney's question also turns her attention over to Katsumi, looking the Japanese woman over with...interest? It's definitely a head to toe look over.

    Both young women have her attention as she observes, at least. "Courtney, isn't it?" she says curiously to the blonde, then glances to the other woman. She'd remember her, certainly. Especially if she tends to outfits like that. Stylish, but sexy too. Sarah is inwardly taking notes if she could pull of that look.

Katsumi Oshiro has posed:
Katsumi Oshiro figures she'll go into a coffee shop, order something mellow - decaffeinated, because she doesn't need to be more jittery than she already is - and just take in the city lights as the sky darkens further. And in a way, it's exciting. She's traveled all over Japan for her work, but this is a different country, with very different people, and things just /feel/ different. The air is different. Maybe taking a day-trip to Metropolis wasn't such a bad-

Her eyes?

Katsumi's swaying halts, and those near-white eyes flit down to Courtney's face. She blinks once. Twice. Mouth slightly opened. "No?," she asks more than says. "Why-"

Rather than pose the question, she's immediately diving a hand into her pocket. Her nerves are spiking. She's so used to things going wrong and terrifying her, it's like she needs to just confirm to herself that at least her the jewel-like brilliance of her natural green eyes are still there. A compact mirror is produced, featuring a pink shell and decorated with two stickers - one Hello Kitty, one Retsuko. Popped open, she gets a look at her reflection and immediately gasps. Her entire frame goes rigid. The compact is snapped shut firmly and clutched between both hand against her chest.

"Not happening, not happening, not happening...," she mutters to herself, eyes screwing tightly shut.

Courtney Whitmore has posed:
Courtney glances toward the sound of her name, grins at Sarah. "Yeah," she says. "Sorry, I don't remember your name. But we have..." She pauses a moment in thought. "I think you're in my American history lecture, right? So many people in there..." And it's not that much of a surprise that Courtney would be recognized among the crowd. She's the one who always has her hand up to ask or answer questions. To the point that, this early in the semester, the professor is already starting to sigh when he calls on her.

But the whispering at her side is drawing her attention away from Sarah, and she turns toward the woman behind her. She regards Katsumi for a moment, confusion turning rapidly to concern. "Tell me what you want to drink," she says quickly, quietly. "And then go sit down with her." She points at Sarah. "I don't know what's wrong, but it's going to be okay. I promise." She flashes a look at Sarah, hopes the other woman picks up on it. Somebody needs help. Super Courtney to the rescue, dragging her classmate whose name she doesn't even remember into the thick of things with her. She sucks.

Sarah Rainmaker has posed:
    "Sarah." the Apache woman supplies, leaning back slightly as she sets down her chai, her brow still raised as her table is volunteered. But she doesn't object to it, apparently going with Courtney's feeling on this. She does frown a little in concern as she turns her attention to Katsumi, then makes a 'over here' gesture, motioning to one of her open chairs. She's picked a midsized table due to the need to spread out her paperwork a bit, though she starts piling it into a neat stack to make room at that point.

Katsumi Oshiro has posed:
Katsumi Oshiro is spiraling into her own little world of confusion, dread, and fear. But she can't break down and freak out here. She can't allow it. Too much is riding on her keeping it together, even if this is a different city. Or perhaps moreso /because/ it's further away from the general manager and Nessa. Her mind starts racing on options. The doctor couldn't help. She needs an optometrist, doesn't she? They'd be able to tell her what's going on with her eyes. Or maybe it's something she's easily overlooked?

God, let it be something easily explained. Something that can tie it all together and let her sleep tonight.

Courtney's voice cuts into the maelstrom of her mind, and she seems to realize she was already starting to freak out. She forces her arms to lower, stuffing the compact back into her pocket. "I-I-I'm fine," she replies, unable to keep the telltale quaiver out of her voice. And when her eyes open again, there's an unmistakable look of panic behind them. But they don't stay trained on Courtney long. She's casting her focus on various distant points in the cafe, attempting to determine if her vision is maybe worse than it was before. But it's no difference that she can detect.

In the process, those pale peepers land on Sarah, noting the invitation. She internally winces. They have to think she's weak. This isn't what she wanted at all.

"Really," she says, forcing a little more smoothness into her tone. "I'm good. Um." And she's about to completely contradict that assertion: "Can stress.. uh.. make your eyes... different?"

Courtney Whitmore has posed:
"Probably," says Courtney. "I'm no biology major. Please. Go sit with my friend. I didn't mean to scare you and I want to make it up to you." She glances toward Sarah again, mouths 'Thank you' silently before returning her attention to Katsumi. "Or at least let me pay for your drink and come sit with us. I'm Courtney Whitmore. I go to Met U." She jerks her head toward the school. "And also, we're almost at the front of the line. Sarah, you want anything?"

Sarah Rainmaker has posed:
    "I'm still finishing mine...but perhaps your friend would like some chamomille tea? Something to relax her." Sarah says, her voice steady but pitched to be soothing at this point. She pauses, then says after a moment. "Yes. For some people they can. Though usually because there's more to it than with the majority of people." she adds mysteriously. She well remembers her forced classmates developing all manner of "stress" related mutations, if nothing else. Though fortunately Katsumi doesn't seem exposed to that sort of stress. "What was your name again? Here, have a seat, like she says. Take a deep breath or three." she suggests.

Katsumi Oshiro has posed:
Katsumi Oshiro's natural inclination is to snap and insist she's fine. But Courtney also appears young. Not a kid, if she's going to university, but she seems so guileless and nice. She knows going off on her wouldn't in any way make her feel better. The other girl, it's a little harder to determine her age. Maybe closer to her own age. Not that Katsumi, herself, is or even looks much older than Courtney.

Still, she breathes a defeated sigh. "Sure...," she submits. "I.. ah.. chamomile. Sounds fine." If it's supposed to be relaxing, maybe it'll help. Hell, she'd take morphine at this point.

Sarah's cagey response is taking her in the opposite direction Katsumi would prefer to go, though. "Look, I just.. yesterday, I went into the doctor to make sure I wasn't going through something serious." She slumps into the offered chair, shoulders hunching forward and head ducked. "I'm not a mutant. They didn't detect a-.. like.. brain tumor.. or anything. So they said it's probably stress." Her gaze lifts to Sarah. "I need it to be just stress," she emphasizes. There's a plead somewhere in her voice, a desperate request to not make things harder to understand or handle.

Courtney Whitmore has posed:
Courtney places a hand on Katsumi's shoulder, attempting to be reassuring. It's her job! You know, 'I am here!' and all that stuff. "If you're feeling stress, it's entirely possible it's just stress," she says. "I mean, stress affects us in all kinds of ways." There's a freshman health class. She's practically reciting from the textbook. She bellies up to the counter at last, grins cheerfully at the barista. "A large iced coffee with skim milk and agave, please. And a large chamomile tea. Hot." She forks over money, then turns back to Katsumi to walk her back over to Sarah's table. "Thank you, Sarah. Sorry I couldn't remember your name." And to Katsumi, then, "And what's yours? I don't want to call you 'Pretty Asian girl with cool contacts' all night." A cheery grin.

Sarah Rainmaker has posed:
    Sarah raises her brows at that. Ah, denial. Not just a river in Egypt. She scoops up her paperwork, clipping it and sliding it into her messenger bag on the seat next to her. "What we need and what we have are often two different things." she comments. "Either way, have a seat and relax, if it's stress then calming down will help, right? So sit down, chat, drink tea. Take your mind off things and perhaps it will help." she says simply, motioning to the chair again.

Katsumi Oshiro has posed:
Katsumi Oshiro has now seated herself, but she does /not/ look comfortable with the direction Sarah's leading her mind. Naturally, the conclusion is that it's stress paired with some other deep, internal, and ultimately fatal problem the doctor just didn't have the equipment or time to detect. She took a hit wrong, she fell hard, and now she's broken and stress is exacerbating it. Which makes her think about what Nessa was saying the other day, about her next performance potentially being her last; dying in the ring due to some undiagnosed problem. So rather than relax, Katsumi looks more pained. Would it be worth it, to die doing what she loves? ...Maybe. What else does she have?

"Stop," she says, her voice having a distinct, but subtle edge and desperation. "Please."

When Courtney rejoins them, she gives her a wilted look. "My eyes are a lot prettier than this. They're supposed to be bright green. I look like a f***ing blind person..." Her palms lift to rub against her eyelids reflexively. "Oshiro Katsumi," she says as her hands lower to her lap. "Or Katsumi, to you westerners. It's fine." She leans forward, propping an elbow over the table and lining an index finger against the bridge of her nose, rubbing gingerly. "Ugh..."

Courtney Whitmore has posed:
"I was right!" Courtney says. "You -are- Japanese." She settles into her seat and pushes the tea toward Katsumi helpfully. A glance at Sarah, a bit confused and concerned, but to Katsumi she continues, "We can't always have what she want. But we can work to make things better. I don't know what's going on with your eyes, but I don't see how it can be a real problem unless it's affecting your vision, right?" She does not consider the possibility of ocular melanoma, at least in part because she's never heard of it. But Katsumi seems to be seeing just fine, and that's what eyes are for, after all.

Sarah Rainmaker has posed:
    Sarah is perhaps less than sympathetic to denying abilities...but then, when you went through being experimented on and tormented for it to happen, it's harder to feel for people where it seems to be coming on...well, peacefully at least. "Nice to meet you Katsumi. Sarah Rainmaker." she replies, offering her full name this time. "Your eyes were normal this morning?" she wonders, sipping from her chai as she watches the Japanese woman thoughtfully. "And yes...your vision doesn't seem impaired, or you would have noticed earlier I'm guessing."

Katsumi Oshiro has posed:
Katsumi Oshiro's eyes widen at Courtney's announcement, momentarily disarmed. The corner of her lips even quirks upwards a little in the start of a grin. But she doesn't have long enough to comment on the revelation of her Japanese heritage before Courtney adds into the stressful and torturous mystery, and that grin vanishes. "My eyes were pretty," she replies. "And mine." She isn't sure if anyone could really understand what it's like to discover their eyes completely different. 'Jarring' doesn't feel like a strong enough word.

Her gaze trails to the table, then back to Courtney, and then again to Sarah. "Yeah, they were! I think." How many people really take note of their eyes on a daily basis? Her brow knits, uncertain, then she gives her head a shake, gently tossing silky blueblack hair. "I can still see fine. As well as before. Or I don't notice. I don't know."

She sighs and sinks back into the chair again.

"Is this really how you two wanna spend your night? With some chick with blank eyes?" Two things to note: her eyes aren't blank. They're very pale, but the irises still have a faint green tint to them, like an echo of their past lustre. And her English is exceptional - no more than a faint lilt of accent tinting her delivery.

Courtney Whitmore has posed:
"When somebody seems like they need help," Courtney says, "I feel the need to help, whether they want the help or not, so yeah, I'd rather see what I can do for you than anything else. I mean, I was just jogging anyway. I wasn't going to do much else tonight but head back to the dorm and work on my sosh paper." She leans back in her seat. "So not taking any more sosh classes after this. You're gonna be fine, Katsumi. Your eyes are just kinda pale. My cousin has hazel eyes. They change color all the time."

Sarah Rainmaker has posed:
    "White eyes don't detract from the rest of you, really." Sarah says with a faint smile, glancing down at Katsumi's form briefly before meeting her eyes again. "So I don't think it's /that/ much of a hardship to spend some time with you." She sighs. "Besides, I'm going to go cross-eyed if I try to figure out these transfer papers more tonight. They can wait until tomorrow morning. I wasn't planning on dropping them off until after class anyway."

    She nods slightly to Courtney's suggestion that help should be offered. "So...if you think it's stress, what kind of stress have you been under since the last time you saw your eyes as normal versus now?" she wonders, sipping from her chai.

Katsumi Oshiro has posed:
Katsumi Oshiro's gaze flits between Sarah and Courtney, studying them, searching for some sliver of deceit or cruelty. They both seem agonizingly genuine - even Sarah totally checking her out. Oh no, that didn't go unnoticed. But she didn't flinch. It's Courtney who earns the sigh, as if breathing out negativity. She murmurs a quiet, appreciative, "Okay," to her. Hazel eyes change all the time. Translation: 'thank you.' Stress does weird things. That does make her feel better, even if her eyes are definitely /not/ hazel naturally.

To Sarah, she cracks a thin smile. "Nice line," she offers, a teasing tone to her voice. "But you two have no idea who I am, huh?" She glances between the two ladies again.

"Katsumi Oshiro?"

"The Punk Princess?"

"Neon League Wrestling Federation?"

"...Three-time women's champ?"

After a beat, she adds, "Big huge event happening in New York City, I'm fighting in it?"

Sarah Rainmaker has posed:
    The native girl glances at Courtney for a moment, seeing a similar lack of comprehension, then back to Katsumi. "Um...nooooo, but....I'm not up on all the big events going on." she admits, smiling apologetically. "I was kinda, uh, restricted in watching tv and stuff for a while, until recently, and I lived on a ranch in the middle of nowhere before that, so I...don't know a lot of celebrities?"

    She bites her lower lip thoughfully. "So you're a female wrestler? Like the WWE thing?"

Katsumi Oshiro has posed:
Katsumi Oshiro deflates. Her gaze flits once again from Courtney to Sarah, and remains on the latter. "You poor thing," she says sincerely. Clearly Katsumi is a city girl who craves media.

But at the question, the punkette is scooted to the edge of her seat with a radiant, eager smile. "Yes! That! You know, intro music, laser lights, f***ing modern day gladiatorial combat with roaring crowds!" Katsumi isn't what one would call manic, medically speaking. But the one topic that's sure to inspire a strong reaction in her is that of professional wrestling. Her eyes may be much paler than normal, but they're positively sparkling in the hopes that Sarah might share in her enthusiasm.

Sarah Rainmaker has posed:
    Sarah looks a bit amused by the immediate enthusiasm. "It's not something I've really checked out yet, but I'm at least aware of it." she says easily. "I know there are pretty intense Japanese federations for wrestling, and that it's very acrobatic. And big dramatic flashy stories and fights. And...uh..." She ponders, thinking. "...kayfabe? Something like that. Maybe that's a Western wrestling thing, then again. So you're the champion three times over? Are you defending your title?"

Katsumi Oshiro has posed:
Katsumi Oshiro deflates again, her almond eyes half-lidding. Alas, her level of enthusiasm for the ring won't be matched tonight it seems. But there's a slow burn towards a pleasant smile afterwards, regardless. The more Sarah talks about it, the more she's comforted by the topic. It's her life; her security blanket. When everything else is a mess, that's her lighthouse.

That is, until Sarah says 'kayfabe'.

Katsumi blanches. "Dirty word!," she chastises. "Ah- okay, I'll tell you about the title defense scene in a second. But first, d'you wanna know a secret?"

Sarah Rainmaker has posed:
    "If you'd like to give it." the other woman notes, idly brushing a few loose strands of hair behind her ear. "And sorry, like I said, I really don't know much about it. I mean, it does sound interesting, just I haven't had time to really investigate or watch it. Too much work to do." she admits. She leans a little closer to Katsumi, tilting her head. "What secret?"

Katsumi Oshiro has posed:
Katsumi Oshiro slants her gaze in one direction, then the other, and leans in conspiratorially towards Sarah. "American federations? Wimps. Lott'a fakes. They're scared to do piledrivers. Japan? We do things hardstyle. You get in the ring with one of us, and you'll be feeling it for a while. If I nail you with The Heartbreaker, you may need some smelling salts." She winks an eye at her. "And for the record? Not everyone's fake. Some of'em decide to do these characters, right? Not all. I don't. I've just been myself from day one. They started callin' me the Punk Princess. Never asked me to do anything different."

Leaning back again, Katsumi /finally/ wraps her hands around the chamomile tea. It'd been neglected up until now. "I took the title three times. I lost it just a month ago. Hnf." She busies her lips with sipping the tea, sulky.

Sarah Rainmaker has posed:
    "Ah, I see." Sarah says, leaning back as well, a little smile on her lips. "I'm curious what the Heartbreaker is, and who you lost the title to? I'm assuming this event in New York is an opportunity to take it back?" she notes, reaching out to curl her fingers around her cup to sip from it again. "And that's neat, that you're...authentic? Not just playing a character."

    She smiles. "I can sympathize with the fakeness, though I guess I know more about MMA fights than wrestling. I do kickboxing, and I watch stuff like that occasionally to see experts doing different moves. Though most of it is just grappling."

Katsumi Oshiro has posed:
A delicate eyebrow liiiifts at the mention of MMA and kickboxing. "Bet you already know what The Heartbreaker is, then. Ever heard of a question mark kick?" Katsumi takes another sip from the tea, letting the silence explain for her. The Heartbreaker is simply that - a signature question mark kick.

"No," she says with a soft shake of her head. "This event isn't about the title. It's about something that could be more than that. Four nations, all coming together here, wrestling for bragging rights about which one is best. America, the UK, f***ing Russia, and Japan. My federation was chosen to represent. This event has international coverage. A lot of eyes on us. Some of the biggest names in the industry are gonna be involved. And I'm gonna fight'em. If I do well, that could just... catapult my career. Right into the next galaxy."

She breathes a gentle, vexed sigh.

"Or blast it right into the dirt, if I screw it up."

Sarah Rainmaker has posed:
    "I've heard of it, though I've never tried one." Sarah says after a moment of thought. "I haven't really tried a lot of more fancy manuvers, I was more focused on ones that can take someone down quickly. And my teachers have been, ah, erratic." she admits. "A lot of my form is probably fairly awful because I was trying to pick things up on my own."

    She considers as Katsumi explains, nodding slightly as she gets the idea. "So...stress over the upcoming event, then. Because it's really important to you and you're worrying about what might happen if things go wrong." Another slow sip from her chai, before setting it back down. "But that's bullshit, really. There's no reason you should focus on what could go wrong. You can just as easily focus on what should go right, what you believe you can do."

Katsumi Oshiro has posed:
"Yeah," Katsumi nods. So Sarah gets it. Now the root of her stress is revealed. But then it seems she doesn't get it, and for the third time tonight, Katsumi deflates.

"It's not that easy. An event like this either builds or wrecks a career. Because it's not just the audience watching. It's the manager. Are you making them look good? Did you blow it? Were you boring? If you screw it up, you might get shelved or fired. If you get handed an opportunity like this and do just.. /okay/, then they're gonna stop booking you so much and focus on people who can really go places. You have to do better. You have to do better than /ever/ before," she emphasizes. "And it's not even just your manager! It's every other manager watching who may want you. It's ever blogger, every influencer, every eye. It's..."

She sets the tea on the table and rubs a palm against her neck.

"I've always dealt with pressure. And I'm ready for this. Or I thought I was. But apparently I'm more stressed out than I imagined. I'm lookin' at the rest of my life probably decided in one night."

Sarah Rainmaker has posed:
    A brief wave her her hand. "That shit is irrelevant." Sarah says simply. "Yeah, things could go poorly. But there's no reason to focus on that. That doesn't help you get through it, and it doesn't help you reach your goals. If you're stuck worrying about what might go wrong, you aren't focusing on what to do right." She tilts her head. "So...my advice is, focus on what you need to do. If you want to imagine what might happen, then imagine what it would be like to /win/ at an event like this. What it would mean for your life. The good things that would come of it."

    She pauses to sip from her chai, finishing it off as she sets the empty cup down. "They call it ruminating, I think, in psychology. The inability to stop thinking about the possible bad things that could happen in the future, to where you're stuck in a spiral of it that keeps you from taking what you deserve, what you can push yourself to achieve. If you want to win, WIN. Push yourself to reach that goal." There's a tone to her voice, like this is something Sarah does herself...pushing herself to be better. "The other stuff doesn't matter. Because even if you failed, you did everything you could to win. And you should take fucking pride in that part, the journey to get there, not having the final result judge who you are."

Katsumi Oshiro has posed:
"Ugh," grunts Katsumi, annoyed. "I'm not trying to focus on that! But it's hard to ignore. If I fail, that's it! Over! It's like playing Russian roulette, see? If you get the bad ending, blam. Done. You're talking to me like I'm choosing to stress out. It's my /life/, get it?"

Finding that tension and stress building again, Katsumi decides it's best to escape before anything has a chance to happen. Nevermind that the blackouts and sudden weakness don't seem to correlate to spikes in tension, it's all she has as an explanation for what's happening. And the last thing she wants is to collapse here, in full public view.

She scoots to quickly stand and nudge the chair further beneath the table with a foot.

Sarah Rainmaker has posed:
    Sarah stands up with her, reaching down to snag her messenger bag as she slides it over her shoulder. "But you're not going to get the bad ending. You're going to get the good one, because you worked hard to get where you are and you're ready to face it." she says quietly. "It's like a wall you're building, if you focus on 'oh my god my life will be over' if it doesn't pan out." She tilts her head slightly, warm brown eyes on Katsumi's blank ones. "....and after that, you can come find me and we can talk more about the stress reactions, okay?" She rummages in a pocket then pulls out her phone. "Here...get my phone. Call me if you need someone to talk to. I'm usually pretty free. I do volunteer stuff and a lot of that is sitting around waiting for people who need help.

    Which likely explains Sarah's response to Katsumi's stress...she's talked people through stuff like this before.

Katsumi Oshiro has posed:
Katsumi Oshiro bristles, defensive, and feeling belittled. She leans back from Sarah and snaps, "I don't want to be psychoanalyzed by a college student! And I don't want your counseling! I'm not your client!"

So much for refraining. Katsumi hurriedly moves back from the table, scowling at Sarah before she makes for the door to promptly exit. Of course people are staring now.

Sarah Rainmaker has posed:
    Sarah watches her go, then sighs, shrugging as she walks over to the front counter, dropping a few bills in the tip jar, then saunters out after. Not her business anymore, apparently. Not that she doesn't wish her luck.