Mornings have never been Ian's preferred time of day. The dawning sun was a grudging acquaintance at best, and a despised foe at worst. If there was a situation where he'd need to be up early, he would much prefer to just remain awake through the night - the only exceptions being if an early start was necessary for research, adventure, or if the local cafes and restaurants had cute staff working in the mornings.
It's with a frown, then, that he responds to the sun shining warmly on his face. Pulling the blanket over his head he rolls, immediately reaching out an arm to grasp the body that should be next to his. It's not entirely unexpected when his hand comes up empty, falling limply against cool sheets. Disappointing, yes, but it was also the most likely outcome.. Souji's a much earlier riser than he is, after all, and even groggy with sleep Ian knows it's around the time for him to be out for his first training session of the day. Really, he needs to properly teach that boy the benefits of having a lie-in...
He curls into himself in lieu of wrapping around Souji like he wants to, burying his face against his blanket. It's not long before he begins to doze off again, easily lulled by the comforting darkness and warmth. When Souji comes back to check on him, he'll wake up just enough to pull him back into bed and make him settle in for some drowsy mid-morning cuddling. Until then...
It's Parasagun's alarmed roar that properly jerks him awake, and Ian's thrown the blanket off himself before he's even had time to open his eyes. He's on his feet immediately, bare skin against cool floorboards, hand already resting on the Gaburevolver sitting on his nightstand and--this isn't his room. These aren't the colours he's gotten used to, that's not where the door to the bathroom should be, where is his desk, where are his flowers?! He blinks, stunned by the changes, but he has no time to contemplate things because Parasagun is roaring again and something is clearly very, very wrong.
He crosses the room in a few quick strides (it's bigger than it should be - is that a new wardrobe?) and his gun is raised to shoot before he's even opened the door. A sudden blur of movement almost gets shot before it slams into his chest, knocking him off-kilter. Ian stumbles, and if he were anyone else the sharp pain of his right shoulder slamming against the wall (it's white, it's supposed to be yellow) would cause him to drop his gun. But it's Ian, and that thing is basically an extension of himself, and instead his teeth grit and his fingers tighten painfully around the grip.
He doesn't need to look down to know that the weight clinging to his nightshirt is his zyudenryuu. He can hear the distressed grumbles well enough; can hear the message from them resonating in his soul. It's the keening sense of loss, of sorrow, and Ian raises his left arm to hold Parasagun in place because if he keeps hanging off of him like that he's just going to either rip the shirt or fall.
"What's going on?" His hand is still tense on his Gaburevolver and his finger tight against the trigger, but Ian's eyes on his partner are nothing but concerned. There can't be any threat around - Parasagun wouldn't be like this if there were - but Ian remains ready to move regardless. "Where's boy?"
He gets a particularly mournful response to that, and Ian's stomach drops further than he thought possible. The follow-up is that of course that means Zakutor is gone too, and even though he knows Parasagun would be able to feel their melodies if they were there, Ian can't help but quickly stride through the open door into the rest of... what seems to be a house.
Instead of the hallway of the Spirit Base, there lays a narrower, neater hallway before him. The walls are lined with empty picture frames (how morose) and the wooden floor beneath his feet is a stark contrast to the stone he's gotten used to. Parasagun remains in his arm, his mourning grumbles softening to what Ian can only describe as being as close to crying as a mecha can get.
Through the hall, into another room - a small study, lined with bookshelves and a proper desk and even a good chair, his brightly-coloured folders of Kiseki research neatly stacked on top.
Back out that door without examining anything, through another - a kitchen. Small, quaint, a charming table and chair in the corner. Not what he's looking for.
The next room is a living room of sorts, or at least that's what Ian assumes from the rug and couch. It's scarcely decorated, but once again he doesn't pay much mind to the contents because it's not what he's looking for.
The last door, then, is clearly the exit. The locks are swiftly undone and uncaring of the fact that he's barely dressed in his short-sleeved shirt and shorts or that his hair is bound to be a scruffy mess, Ian swings it open. And what he sees outside... definitely isn't Kiseki.
He stops, then, staring out at the new world before him. There's a mailbox (or what he assumes is one; it's located in the right place) shaped like Parasagun's head, and it sticks out from ground that's covered in happily green grass. There are spots of flowers here and there, and across the path there's another equally-ridiculous mailbox facing him. It's outside of what appears to be a door built into a mound, and Ian can only assume there's a home inside of it.
He doesn't know how long he stands there, staring. Parasagun's noises have begun to reflect the sinking feeling of his heart and the twisting of his stomach, and Ian leans against the doorframe limply. His hand loosens on the Gaburevolver enough that there would be a real risk of dropping it if he weren't relying so much on it to keep him sane, and even Parasagun's head butting against him isn't enough to stop the heavy weight of loneliness from settling over him. He doesn't need to ask to know that the others - King, Ucchii, Nossan, Torin, Gabutyra, Pteragordon, Stegotchi - aren't here either, and at this point there's nothing he can do to stop the helplessness from showing clearly on his face. Even with the paranoia and random attacks... things had been going well. They'd only been waiting on Amy-chan to all be together again, and King and Ucchii were so happy together, and Souji...
Parasagun butts against him again and this time Ian sighs, shifting his arm around his partner to raise him higher. Gently, he brushes his nose against Parasagun's, earning a soft butt in return. It's not the action he's supposed to make as a sign of his friendship with the zyudenryuu, but... It might help Parasagun's sorrow some.
It doesn't, of course, just how it doesn't help Ian's at all. Instead it feels like a twist of a knife in his heart, and the sad noise that follows from the zyudenryuu just echoes the pain. With a grimace he pulls back, holding Parasagun tightly against him instead and stepping away from the door to close and lock it once more.
His mind is oddly blank as he walks back down the short hallway to the bedroom at the end, and he barely pays attention to the layout of what he assumes is his new home. This makes the third time he's woken up somewhere unexpectedly and had his entire life changed. The first when he met Torin, the second the welcome centre of Kiseki... Just how many times was he going to be expected to adapt to a rapidly changed situation?
He sets Parasagun down only to pull fresh clothes from the wardrobe (how is it that it seems all his personal belongings came here, but none of the others?), and the zyudenryuu follows him as he numbly enters the bathroom to go about his morning routine. The layout is entirely different, and it's a bit bigger than the bathroom he'd had for the last few months, and Ian can't bring himself to appreciate it at all.
Somewhere between the shower and the hair-styling Parasagun ceases his quiet sorrowful grumbling, but even without the audible indication Ian can feel keenly his pain. It's the first time Parasagun's truly been without his Kyoryuger family, and Ian can't blame him for taking it badly. Neither of them do well on their own, and to be torn so suddenly from the ones they cared about...
Ian's reflection in the mirror looks exactly as disheartened as he feels, and it takes a few tries before he's able to manage a satisfactorily convincing smile. He has to remind himself to draw his shoulders back, to lift his chin, and to deliberately allow his eyes to crinkle to affect the appearance of happiness. He does it a few times, enough so that he can pull it off in a second, and once he's managed that it's time to go.
Parasagun follows him as always, back through the bedroom where Ian steadfastly ignores the empty bed. Down the hall with the empty frames, past the rooms that he can't bring himself to care about, straight to that door.
There's a moment of hesitation when Ian's hand reaches for the lock, his fingers curling in to his palm. He hates having to do this again. He hates knowing that, wherever he's wound up, it's going to have its own problems. But mostly, he hates that anything he goes through - anything that happens, anyone he meets - he's going to have to do it alone.
Parasagun butts against his ankle, urging him on, and in a few deft movements he's undone the lock and swung the door open once more. So be it, then. It wasn't like Ucchii had been stuck in Kiseki alone forever. It had been four months until King arrived, and then four months after that Ian had found himself there. Following that pattern...
...Well, he'd done a year before. He could do four months now. With a deep breath Ian steels himself for whatever this world might hold, and when he crosses the threshold - when he enters this new world truly, for the first time - he's the cool, self-assured Brave he's always been. Any loneliness, any sorrow gets pushed deliberately to the back of his mind; to the place where his guilt for Shiro's death used to reside. It's not necessary for him to deal with it now (or ever), and so he won't. Instead... Instead, he'll focus his energy on learning as much as he can, with at least Parasagun by his side.