There are two-hundred and ninety-three speckles within the area of ceiling directly above my head. Well, that�s how many I had the patience to count, anyway. Now, though, I�m just listening as the wind tosses bucket after bucket of rain against my window between occasional rumbling growls of thunder.
I lie sprawled on my bed over the sheets, one leg dangling off the side of the mattress, hands sandwiched between my pillow and skull, eyes half-closed. A drawn-out yawn stretches my mouth into a wide oval, and I roll over onto my side in preparation to drift off to Dreamland when a soft knocking sound barely audible over the rain smashes all semblance of sleepiness. Callie, curled up at the foot of the bed, lifts her head from her forepaws, her ears swiveling in the direction of the soft noise. She turns her wide gaze to me and meows informatively as though I hadn�t heard it too, what with my inferior human hearing and all.
�Fuck,� I mutter in annoyance, dragging myself up and across the distance between my bed and the door to my apartment. Death-glare in place, I unlock the door and pull it open enough so I can see exactly who I�ll be killing tonight for depriving me of sleep.
Dakumi�s baby blue eyes glance up at me through drenched threads of silver hair, slightly startled. His hand is frozen on what probably was a second trip to the door, but he quickly stuffs it back into his jacket pocket as the corners of his lips twitch in an apologetic smile. �Is--now a bad time? I know it�s late, but. . .�
Even if I hadn�t known instantly the reason for Dakumi appearing on my doorstep in the middle of the night, I would have been an idiot not to realize that rainwater wasn�t the only thing spilling down his cheeks. I shake my head and pull the door wider, stepping to the side to allow him room to pass. �Get in here before you catch a cold. Damn, Dakumi, how many times do I have to tell you not to be caught at the company after hours?�
�I know, I know,� he sighs. I shut the door behind him and double-bolt it for good measure, following him as he moves to sit on the couch. �I guess I had so much to do, I lost track of the time. . .�
�That bastard probably piles the work on you just for that reason,� I growl, my lip curling. He shakes his head slowly, the gesture not so much disagreeing with my statement as silently arguing a deeper point behind it.
�Would you mind if I used your shower afterwards?� he asks as I sit down next to him. I brush away his dripping fringe and place my palm against his forehead, frowning at the high temperature of his skin.
�No. Stay the night, too--you shouldn�t be walking around in this weather again. And you�re calling in sick tomorrow, I don�t care what you say.�
�Yes, Doctor �Sus,� he breathes softly, leaning ever so slightly forward into my touch. His eyes are already closed, expectant, lashes quivering as beads of moisture gather between them. I grip his hand with my free one reassuringly before letting my own eyes slide shut.
Instantly I crash into the memory, reeling from the abrupt change of time and place. When the world steadies itself, I�m able to register that I am--Dakumi is--sitting at his desk in the security wing of the Raidien building, typing swiftly and gazing through blurred vision at the computer screen.
Almost--done! His triumphant thought flashes through my mind at the same time I feel a relieved grin break out on �my� face. A few more keystrokes save the document, and then I exit out and shut the computer down before grabbing Dakumi�s jacket off the coat rack.
Once I reach the elevators, I jab the �down� button, walking slowly back and forth until one of the sets of double-doors slides open with a soft ding. I start towards it but stop immediately, a cold spike of adrenaline jumpstarting my heart into a sprint.
�Dakumi,� says Ishiro smoothly, a predatory smile spreading slowly across his features. �How fortunate. I was just coming to find you.�
�Were you, sir?� There was a polite stiffness to the words, a rigidity echoed by the muscles in Dakumi�s back. Ishiro nodded and stepped forward, holding out an arm to keep the elevator doors from closing.
�I knew you had to work late tonight because of all the extra reports, and I thought I should check to see how you were coming along.�
More like you wanted to see if I was done so you could fuck around with me, damn prick. The thought carries enough vehemence to make me wonder if it really is only Dakumi�s cheeks burning with rage. �They�re all finished, sir.�
�Are they? Oh, wonderful,� says Ishiro, a glint in his eyes unrelated to the dim fluorescent lighting. �Well, get in.�
Should�ve taken the goddamned stairs. Damnit damnit damnit damnit--
I step into the elevator, and Ishiro pulls his arm back to allow the doors to close.
Damnit damnit damnit--
�You must be exhausted, Dakumi,� comes Ishiro�s satin voice close to my ear. A cold shiver laces up my spine, making a second and a third trip as Ishiro�s fingers tug down the jacket�s zipper.
�I am, sir,� I say pointedly. Stop it, stop it, stop it--
�You can spare a few minutes, I�m sure.� One hand moves from my stomach to pull the emergency stop, and the elevator screeches to a halt as I�m suddenly crushed between the wall and Ishiro�s body.
Damnit damnit damnit damnit damnit--
With each visit into Dakumi�s memories, blocking out the parts that are the cause of his distress becomes increasingly harder and harder. I find myself enraged beyond the limits of sanity when Ishiro starts his stupid little overtime game, and the flames lick higher with each violating touch to Dakumi�s skin, each degrading moan that manages to slip past Dakumi�s steadfast resolve. I imagine horrendous ways of killing his tormentor, of reflecting the torture, humiliation, and helplessness back upon him in infinitely more times than what Dakumi has had to suffer through at his hands. If I could land even one blow to that sickening smirk, I would be satisfied.
But I�m powerless to do anything. My job is to tape up the vase after it�s been broken for the millionth time, replace it back on its pedestal, and wait. Wait for the same spoiled brat to come running and knock the fragile thing down again so I have to repair it again. All for that one spoiled brat�s amusement.
