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What to do? The question of the hour. The week, really. There were so many different dilemmas. When should they go after Ko-Ishi now that his exact location was more closely supposed? He didn't trust anything at this point, but any direction was better than none. Fate couldn't be that far off of her mark. Should they strike immediately, without planning, but with surprise on their side? Should they hold off, work in some more investigations before rushing in? If they didn't plan an attack within the next six days, he'd have to make a very grievous decision about Youji.
He slept now, curled on his side, facing away from Aya. The sleep was rare this past week, a few hours grabbed here and there before deep sleep brought him thrashing up from nightmares indescribable. He'd tried , taking in panicked gasps, desperate for something beyond horror. Aya hadn't been able to keep his temper. It was just one more thing to rest on his conscious and temper his irreversible decisions.
Last night he'd woken up, head already pounding with the promises of a hang-over, fighting to protect his person from flailing limbs. It had been too much; cold water thrown in his face, the clatter of tolerance dashing down the stairs to avoid watching the upcoming explosion. Lying in the dark now, the soundtrack of Youji's soft sleep breaths, it has hard not to think on the way the wild confusion on his face had so rapidly melted into open hurt. Hurt he'd caused.
Perhaps it was for the best. This slow, but growing distance between them. It would be necessary if the six day limit passed. Aya had to make a decision. His sister, or Youji? Even now, with a days worth of reflection tucked under his belt, it still made his chest tight with panic, the what ifs. What if he did turn in Youji? What if he couldn't get to him in time, and they hurt him too badly, or he died? What if Youji never forgave him? His sister would be worth that, but not lifeless as she was, dwarfed by the machines that kept her body going. She was a symbol. He needed his symbol to keep going. Didn't he?
Too many questions. Too many wrong answers. The hesitation and deliberation ate at him like so much stress, up the line of his spine, unraveling his already split and fraying nerves. There was no measure of logic to hold his own ideas up against, no one he could talk to, invite into this problem he'd worked himself into. They wouldn't understand. The answer would be obvious. They'd tell him to let his sister go. They'd tell him she wasn't going to come back, and even if she did, it wouldn't be the girl he'd loved, the last of his living family. No one else could understand.
There were other thoughts, even more selfish than the first lines of consideration. His leg. Its complete lack of progress. The possibility that he would be useless for life. Unable to perform even the most basic tasks, let alone the old feats of agility and strength. Confined to the sort of desk job his family had wished on him before tragedy fell. He couldn;t stop to let it rest until he'd resolved all their current issues. He couldn't end said issues until it was better. His own Catch 22.
Beside him, Youji curled up tighter, the start of those numerous night visions that always ruined sleep for the both of them. There weren't ever any words or sounds, and for that Aya was infinitely grateful. The whole situation was uncomfortable. He'd done his bit of comforting when it first began, but this continuation was just too much. It made Youji too real, outlined the consequences of his upcoming betrayal, if one was needed at all. It was easier than he'd thought to nurture the seed of resentment in both their hearts.
He rolled away, his own arms clenched about his torso, trying to phase out the distraction and return to the self-defeating loop of despair he'd created within his mind. It was hard to brood with the minute twitch of limbs rustling and disturbing the once pure silence of their moon washed bedroom. It was the one thing he enjoyed about their lack of electricity. Youji's inability to splinter the night with the harsh brightness he once favored.
Youji woke up on his own this time, starting upright in near darkness, heart pattering so fast he was afraid it would give up and stop all together, almost painful. How long could this go on before he had a heart attack? There were fewer and fewer moments of blind panic upon awakening as time progressed, almost as if his mind were trying to make absolutely sure he knew the difference between dream and reality. Youji wasn't sure if he was grateful or not.
It was becoming an addiction, the return to fear and pain. In captivity, there had been no responsibilities, no real time for thought. An almost dangerous soothing quality to the complete inability to control anything. He didn't have to visit a psycho-annalist to know that was disgustingly unhealthy. He almost preferred the physical pain of Ko-Ishi to the emotional anguish day-to-day living with Aya provided.
"Aya?" Softly spoken, a breath below a whisper. The single word quavered more then he?d have liked it to. "Ran?" Again when he didn't get a rise the first time. No response, but the rise and fall of his ribcage was too rapid for true sleep. Youji bit back disappointment. No help to be found in close quarters. He lay on his back for a while, eyes creating patterns from the light spots dancing across the ceiling, productions of raw, tired eyes.
Sleep would not return and bless him with its temporary oblivion, so he kicked the covers off, rolled out of bed and headed downstairs. He found himself flipping channels. Mindless tasks seemed to make time pass more quickly. It was boring, he'd found the hard way, when you were the only one awake, and you weren't very good at entertaining yourself. He wouldn't have minded some hard alcohol, but with things progressing as they were, he was afraid to lose any more control not entirely necessary. If Ko-Ishi decided to make an attempt to reclaim him some random evening, it wouldn't do to be so drunk he couldn't stand on his own.
Infomercials. Nothing but infomercials. They weren't paying for expanded cable television, and this was his punishment. They hadn't deemed it necessary to begin with, until things settled down. How wrong they were. Nothing made the time fly like old forgotten television dramas, soap operas from foreign countries, inane music videos. Godsdamned TV. The subtle change in air pressure, and the faintest of sounds alerted him to the opening of the front door. Speak of the devil, and here he comes! It was almost too surreal for the blind panic to kick in. He wasn't sure why, but it never occurred to him to shout, to wake the household and give himself a chance.
He crept forward in the glow of the television, swooping up the baseball bat Ken liked to keep by the hallway entrance, closer to the front door. The hall light snapped on, flooding his intended target. Momentary relief.
"Ken? Where have you been?" Youji thought he'd been back hour ago. He was running out on an errand, he'd said. Youji went to sleep early, the first hours the only real rest he was getting these days. "It's-" he swiftly checked his watch, "almost three in the morning."
Ken blushed a tale-tell shade of red. "I-nothing. I can't tell you. It's a secret." He shrugged out of his coat, trying not to act self-conscious. Failing. Youji planted his hands on his hips and blocked the escape route down the hall to the kitchen and bedrooms.
"This had better be good. We have to be careful now. Anyone off on their own presents a most tempting target. Did you ever come home, or have you just been gone since this afternoon?"
"Youji. Please don't press this. I can't tell you. I can't. He'll find out." Ken clenched his hands together before him, pleading.
"Who? Omi?" The obvious answer. "But why? What were you doing?" He stopped, running a hand through his hair. "Oh no, not that girl. Ken! Don't be stupid. This isn't the time! Have a goddamned fling if you want to, but not now! We can't afford the damage it will deal to our team!" For once his main concern was with the practical.
"You can?t say anything!" Ken hissed, hackles up. "Don't fucking dare or this will come to violence." He fists clenched, elbows bent out, threatening. Youji took a step back, startled by the display of vehement anger.
"Ken?" His shoulders dropped abruptly, dark head hanging, shame about him like a cloud of pestilence. "I'm sorry. It's not you I'm mad at." Defeat clung to his skin like the scent of the smoky bar he'd been in. Despite the anger, and the months now since his last cigarette, Youji wanted to grab Ken by the shoulders and just inhale. The cravings came at the oddest times from a habit he could never truly kick.
"You wanna talk about it?" His fingers twitched futilely, wanting to fumble out a smoke from some random pocket that had nothing to offer. All this stress, he figured. He couldn't be that entirely weak of will, could he? Aya would certainly like to think so, but the opinion of those not in the know couldn't be taken as accurate statements, or everything else to come from unlikely sources would have to fall under the verdict of truth, and Youji didn't think he could take being beaten down that many times so easily.
"Maybe." Ken looked away, pulse beating heavily in his throat, flushed from embarrassment, too much to drink with dinner, and more than just a touch of self-loathing. "No." Rapidly changing his mind. "This is my mess. I've fucked up; I'll deal with it." Immediately he wanted to take the refusal back. There was just too much for him to sort out on his own. He wasn't going upstairs for now, that much he knew, not with Omi up there, maybe lying in wait, maybe lying there in a depression like his own, confused and hurt. He couldn't take someone else's bewildered pain right now, not even his own. Perhaps it would be best if he steered clear of Youji as well.
Ken returned his attention to the outside world, startled to see that Youji was nowhere to be found. Just as well, if he'd gone back to his own silent contemplations somewhere else. Ken finished putting his jacket away, toeing off shoes in preparation for heading up to bed. He had definitely had too much to drink, but it was an easy thing to overlook at the time, taken as he was by the warmth of Kakaria's presence. He only hoped Omi had already fallen asleep, still as run down as he'd been the past few days. Run down as they were all getting.
He stopped, peeking into the living room. Youji had parked himself in front of the television again, sitting stiffly upright, uncomfortable. In profile, his face had a slackness to it that was a little disturbing, a definite absence of any visible emotions. Ken caught his right foot trying to pull him forward into the room to help where he could. It wasn't his battle. He was already mired all the way up to his neck in all the troubles he could care to handle.
Up the stairs to his doom. Every step harder and harder to complete. There was no telling what he'd find behind his bedroom door. He wasn't sure how he'd react to whatever might lie in wait. His temper had no bounds as of late. There weren't any straws to break the camel's back, just a constant low-level rage going at all times. Wearing away, eating up their sanity. And to call up sanity, one had to think about Fate, or more specifically think about the lack thereof. He hadn;t seen her since earlier this evening when she;d come bursting in to show them all how to reach Ko-Ishi in his sewer lair.
No words were spoken as the door silently eased open into moonlit darkness, no sounds from either Omi or Ken. He did his best to be silent as he fumbled off clothes for bed, even as his coordination faltered.
"Mm-Ken? Is that you?" Soft, mumbled words as several layers of blankets were shifted aside. Omi sat up suddenly. "How late is it? Where have you been? Are you okay?" None of the suspicious accusations or bitter scolding Ken had expected. Of course not. Not everyone sat and thought up these different possibilities, waited for things to say when someone betrayed their trust.
"I'm fine. Sorry I've been out so late, I just got sidetracked, you know?" He sat on the edge of the bed, put up with Omi's hand on his bared back. How could he say otherwise right now, as much as he wanted to be left alone with his thoughts? Omi was still mostly asleep, and in the end he didn't ask much of anything before falling back asleep, curled up against Ken's side. It brought back painful memories of the past few days when Omi had been so horrendously out of it, clinging to him like a bewildered child, or a hurt, frightened animal, delirious with the rather serious concussion he'd sustained.
Thoughts of that lead to his subsequent duplicity, of Kakaria, her beautiful, open grin, the way she always had something brash and quick witted ready to fly off her tongue. There was a certain raw excitement to it, that made her more than a wonderful, warm girl who deserved more than a bloodstained, useless bastard as a romance interest; a raw excitement that turned her into the unattainable, and yet utterly available as she'd proven this past evening. It was a wonder Omi wasn't awake enough to see what he'd been up to. Wave after wave of self-loathing, and he couldn't help it, because she was all he'd been denied all his restricted, lonely life.
Downstairs he knew Youji sat alone, watching the morning news that must surely be coming on by now, eyes more than a little bloodshot. Ken knew he wouldn't be sleeping tonight, not until it would be time to wake regardless, but he couldn?t bring himself to reach out. It was partially Youji's fault he was at this hateful position. Youji's and Aya's fault. He couldn't live with the guilt they'd force down on his shoulders if he'd turned Omi away. He couldn't now, no other fucking options.
Hey lay still for another hour, too awake to do anything. Too antsy. He waited until it was bright outside, birds singing their annoying songs just to grate on his nerves. It was cold outside, why couldn't they all just fly somewhere else and leave him alone. It was hard to be properly miserable when the sounds of outside contrasted horribly with his state of mind inside.
"Son of a bitch." Carefully working his way out from under the arm Omi had thrown over him during a moment of restless sleeping. Padding into the bathroom, and then finally down the stairs again. He stopped into the kitchen to start up the requisite coffee for the morning. The next room over he heard the low muffled voice of a man, and then the catty, shrill reply of a female, followed by a tinny laugh track. Television. The coffee maker was already running, looked to have been running all night by the smell of it. Sighing, he abandoned the kitchen and sat next to Youji on the sofa.
"Anything good on?"
"Nope." Youji stared blankly at the pretty moving colors of his night time friend, the magical box of goodness. His hands trembled the slightest bit as he reached for the remote to switch channels once more.
"How much coffee have you had?" He tried not to visibly stare at Youji.
"A lot." Youji settled on an old black and white movie. Lots of corny shooting going on.
"And you wonder why you can't sleep?"
Youji frowned at him. "The coffee is so I won't sleep on purpose. I can only get so tired." He rubbed his scratchy, unfocused eyes until they ached, putting on a fine display of fireworks behind his eyelids.
"You?re going to get us all killed!" Ken leaned forward, trying to gauge by facial expressions alone how off his ailing teammate was. "You'll pass out right when someone's trying to stab you in the head. Do you have any idea what Aya will have to say about this?" That certainly caught Youji's attention.
"He isn't going to have anything to say about this. I managed fine when I was drunk three-fourths of the time, and I'll manage fine now that I'm no longer able to sleep. There are people out there who can go a week or more, I'll be fine, really."
"Youji. We could all die here, even with Fate's help-"
"Especially with Fate's help."
"And for as long as we've known each other, please don't take this the wrong way, but you need to seriously reevaluate the way you're coping with this."
"I'm coping just fine. Let me tell you, Ken, and don't take this wrong, as a regards to the deeply abiding friendship we've harbored for such a long period of time,"? the viper chose to rear its angry, poisonous head, "but if you put any thoughts into Aya's head about any of this, then Omi and I are going to have a nice little chat. You following me so far?"
Ken jerked back from the blind violence he saw in bloodshot green eyes, angry. "Don't try to threaten me." He fisted his hands at his sides, that tricky temper of his choosing this instance to flare up yet again. His mouth opened, and like a victim watching an onrushing vehicle, knew something horrible was about to come out of his mouth and was helpless to stop it.
"You all up so early, you lazy fuck-heads." Fate stomped into the room, brandishing a box of bakery donuts like a peace offering. "None of you died in sleep yet, huh? Well, keep trying. I have colossal faith in you and wondrous abilities."
"Fuck off!" Ken pushed past her roughly, sparing Youji as an outlet of his pent up frustrations. Even as he streaked out the front door Youji and Fate could hear him muttering and cursing under his breath.
"Gods above, you chipper today. Have a donut. Chocolate! The very best." Fate handed Youji the greasy box of donuts while she dumped a heavy bag full of what sounded to be weaponry on the glass-topped coffee table. "My old back! So much lifting. You help me next time, yeah?" She patted him on the shoulder. "Maybe switch to decaf, okay? If your head explodes on wall, we all in the shit!" She retrieved the box of donuts and went marching upstairs, off to wreak her merciless havoc on all who dared sleep while the day was young.
Youji sank back onto the couch with a shaky sigh. For a moment there things had been heading beyond repairable. That's what happens; you get too many touchy, angry males together in a household, pair them up, put their lives in danger, and watch the sparks fly. This couldn't be good for his health. He hoped Ken would come back soon. Youji had so much practice apologizing and acquiescing to Aya's irrational demands that Ken shouldn't be a problem. Anything to keep them functional as a group.
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No offense to Youji, but I think Fate is slowly starting to supercede his old place on the top of the list of characters! -laughs- Just a joke there! Do not be afraid! Oi. I'll prolly have an update for you again in a few days, the next few chapters are really where it starts to get good and bloody and angsty. -mild anticipation-. -implodes- [email protected] [email protected]