CHAPTER 08

I�m sorry you have to see this. But it�s necessary� you have to grow up starting now. That�s just the way it is, dear brothers. Don�t make my mistakes. I know you�re in love, and even if you�re damned for your so-called sins, never lose sight of each other. You both deserve happiness. Please, live on, cling to what you have, and never give up. Don�t be a coward like me.�

Now that the dam had broken, it seemed the trail of tears had no end. Hiro and Kane were petrified with fear; their hearts ready to leap out of their throats as their eldest brother raised the gun to his face. �Please, forgive me for my sins, my darling brothers. I love you both, more than anything. And� please� don�t forget me when I�m gone.�

They knew what was coming; their minds screamed in unison for the twins to move, to do something, anything to save Akio�s life. But it was too late, they had ran out of what precious time they had had. Hiro and Kane could only watch on in shock as the only other boy who shared their DNA opened his mouth impossibly wide, pushing the barrel of the pistol in as far as it would go.

Lime eyes spoke the words that were now impossible to say. The click of the hammer jerked Hiro back to reality, and he made a grab for Akio, who only stepped back, a sad look in his eyes as he pulled the trigger.

A scream tore itself from Kane�s already raw throat, jolting his brother out of the story he had been typing up furiously on his laptop. Impossibly wide fever-bright chromatic eyes met Hiro�s, tears running down deathly pale cheeks. Sweat beaded on the older teen�s brow, trickling down to mingle with the salty rivers.

In a heartbeat, the writer abandoned his work, rushing to his stricken twin�s side. Still caught in the grip of a fever that just wouldn�t succumb to traditional methods, Kane�s body was trembling violently. The compress Hiro had placed on the teen�s forehead before sitting down to write had slipped off in the artist�s tossing and turning only nightmares could cause. Taking his twin�s hand into between both of his, he squeezed it reassuringly, smiling gently when Kane�s head turned to look at the writer beside his bed.

�Hiro-chan� it�s so hot� all the blood� it�s burning me, Hiro�� the older boy whispered, his voice rough with sickness. A weak hand reached up to his own throat, rubbing without success at the blood that he felt on his skin.

�Nii-chan, it was just a bad dream. There�s no blood on you,� he murmured, reaching out and brushing sweat-slick hair from his brother�s face. Flinching from the heat that radiated from Kane�s face, he picked up the compress with his free hand, his other occupied with easing his twin�s unease. In the recesses of his mind, he was mentally flipping through the medical knowledge Amaya had shared whenever one of the triplets had been ill. Whenever a fever refused to break, she would fill the bathtub with icy water, and place the overheated child into the frigid H2O.

Hiro honestly didn�t want to freeze the illness out of his older sibling, but he had no other choice. Luckily, their dorm room had a bathroom in it, so there wasn�t a need to expose Kane to the outside world. He pulled back the blankets he piled on the bed earlier, hoping to sweat the fever right out, which obviously had failed. Scooping up his twin in his arms, whose head lolled against Hiro�s chest, he crossed the distance from the bed to the washroom with ease. After setting the sick young man on the counter, having him lean heavily against the wall, he began to fill the tub with freezing cold water. Millions of thoughts clashed and swirled in his mind as he undressed Kane, the clothes sticking to his sweaty skin.

Once the tub was full, the writer picked his roommate back up, carefully lowering him into the chilly wetness. A jagged cry pushed its� way out of Kane�s throat, his body trying desperately to escape from the water that felt sub-zero to the fever-stricken student. But the sickness, whatever it was, had drained Kane of his strength, leaving him as helpless as a newborn child. Hiro put an arm around his brother's shoulder, keeping him upright as he used a dripping cold washcloth to cool down the flushed face that mirrored his own perfectly.

A violent cough shook Kane's body, echoing from deep in his chest; small ripples fled from the mostly submerged teen, disappearing altogether once they got far enough away. Wincing, Hiro was torn. Should he call the hospital and get medical attention immediately? Or should he wait it out and keep using remedial methods to heal his twin? Another wrenching cough was answer enough for the younger man, slipping a hand into his pocket for his cell phone.

Hazy apple green eyes fluttered open, not recognizing the ceiling that lay above their owner. The artist started, but didn't make it far as he felt the tug of an IV in his right arm. Hiro was stretched out on a rollaway cot, using an arm as a makeshift pillow as he slept. Deciding not to wake his brother, who looked drained to the max, Kane closed his eyes again, following the other teen into deep slumber.

A soft beep in his ear shattered his pleasant state of unconsciousness later that day; bringing him back to the small one-bed hospital room that Hiro had condemned him to. Glancing to his left, he saw a young brunette dressed in bold starry scrubs entering his temperature and blood pressure in a compact PDA. Kane's twin was slowly rousing himself into wakefulness, since the baggy material of the nurse's pants had brushed against his nose, causing it to crinkle in his sleep.

His nightmares had been nonexistent since arriving in the hospital two nights ago; he had suspicions that it might have to do with the seemingly innocent clear fluid that dripped regularly into his arm. Not that Kane missed them or anything, it was nice to be able to sleep and not wake up screaming from the ghastly sight of Akio blowing off his head, time and time again.

Though it was the summer, somehow the older Mendego son had contracted bronchitis that had mutated into full-blown pneumonia without so much as a warning. Swallowing was a chore, but he had graduated from not being able to eat anything at all to stomaching soft foods like mashed potatoes.

After replacing the empty IV bag and bringing in two trays heaped full of cucumber sandwiches on white bread and still warm chocolate chip cookies. Hiro thanked the petite brunette, who smiled widely at both the teens, before leaving the room, her ponytail swishing in time with her hips. Pulling up a chair beside his brother's hospital bed, the younger teen helped Kane sit up with a pillow behind his back so he could eat his own lunch.

They ate in comfortable silence, munching on their sandwiches and cookies, sharing secret smiles every now and then. It was hard for the writer to see his precious older brother so sick and in need of professional medical care.

"Nii-chan, are you feeling any better?" Hiro asked around a mouthful of cucumber, citrine eyes full of worry.

Kane nodded, still nibbling at his cookie like a mouse, looking at his twin through lowered obsidian lashes. His dark tresses were tamed with a white ribbon one of the nurses had brought in on his first night though a few strands had escaped to frame his pale face. Some color had returned to his cheeks, so he wasn't nearly transparent anymore.

The artist was kind of depressed to be in the hospital, so as a pick-me-up, Hiro had gone down to the gift shop and bought a giant tiger stuffed animal. When Kane woke up that morning, his face was buried in soft orange and black faux fur. Sleepy lime eyes opened slowly, more then a bit surprised to find a tiger in bed beside, stuffed or not. Pushing himself up with a slightly steady left arm, he was greeted by his smiling brother, who looked pleased with himself.

�I have a feeling you had something to do with the jungle cat that stole all the covers,� the older twin drawled, though his eyes were dancing with a light they hadn�t held since he had gotten sick.

�Mm, you sure it was the tiger who stole the covers?� Hiro teased, a hint of laughter in his voice.

�What are you trying to say? That you slept with me last night and used the tiger as a decoy?�

�I�m admitting to nothing,� the writer replied, sticking his tongue out. With that, he leaned forward, placing a chaste kiss on his brother�s lips.

�If you keep that up, you�re going to be in this damn hospital bed within the week, Hiro-chan,� Kane mock-scolded, but the worry that he had tried to hide refused to be caged. Yes, he was terrified of the thought of his headstrong other half being in the hospital, coughing up gods knew what and being a sickly, mewling shell of his normal self.

By the end of the week, Kane was deemed well enough to return to the college dorm. The doctor, one Dr. Olson, was whistling merrily as he signed the release papers, handing a copy to Hiro along with a bag that rattled when moved. Peeking inside, the contents were revealed to be a bottle of antibiotics, which the artist wasn�t going to be happy about; he hated taking medicine.

�Which is probably why he had gotten so damn ill in the first place,� the younger boy thought to himself as he thanked the doctor. Taking his brother by the arm, he led him down the hall, one rather large stuffed tiger tucked under Kane�s other arm, striped tail swinging with every step the pair took.

Stepping foot into their shared dorm room was like a breath of fresh air to a man dying of asphyxiation. No longer would the acrid scents of disinfectant mixed with sickness and death linger in the air. Kane breathed a sigh of relief as he collapsed on the nearby love seat, the tiger breaking his fall as well as becoming a lovely pillow. Hiro chuckled at his brother, walking to the small kitchenette to deposit the pills.

Reaching into their fridge, he grabbed two ice-cold sodas, pressing one against his forehead to try and cool his own over-heated skin. But this wasn�t a fever, oh no, it was just plain old August in Albany weather that was killing him. It didn�t matter that he had grown up in New York all his life, had suffered through the same four seasons for 18 years; he still couldn�t handle the muggy city heat that washed over New York every single summer.

With a gentle push of his brother�s legs, Hiro managed to make room for himself on the small couch, plopping down without a hint of grace. Cracking open the deliciously frosty Dr. Pepper and tossing the other one to Kane, he turned his attention to the TV that his twin had turned on. Reruns dominated the airwaves it seemed, so channel surfing was useless. Soon after sitting down, the writer got back up again with a half-hearted sigh to rummage through their DVD collection for something worth watching.

Holding up Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban and receiving an affirmative nod from his roommate, he popped open the case, sticking the disc in their Playstation 2. Climbing back up to the couch, the controller resting on the coffee table, Hiro curled up against his still-recovering brother.

Thirty minutes into the movie, the twins were jolted out of their hot and heavy make-out session by a vibrating cell phone. Eyes narrowed in annoyance by the interruption, Kane plucked it out of his brother�s pocket, pausing the movie and answering the cell at the same time.

�Hello?� the older Mendego man answered, running a hand absently through his hair. Listening intently failed Hiro as he tried to figure out who was on the other end of the line. Mumbled �yeahs�, �uh-huhs� and �sures� were interjected at all the right times, but it wasn�t enough to form a decent conversation. The aspiring writer sighed, getting to his feet to search the kitchenette for something edible.

When he came back into the living room, he found Kane staring blankly at the TV, tears shining in those chartreuse depths but not quite falling. �Nii-chan? What�s wrong? Who was it?� Hiro asked, nudging his brother lightly in the shoulder.

�It was Aunt Lillian. They found a buyer for our old house. They want to meet with us tomorrow to sign the papers,� he muttered, his face surprisingly neutral and blank.

�Oh�� the other boy said, knowing what those words meant. It meant they would no longer have the evidence that accompanied the memories of their brother. Everything would have to be boxed up for good, and either stored in a closet at their dorm or in some obscure room in Lillian�s home.

The tears spilled without a second thought, their minds turning over the event that had started all of this, that had turned their lives upside down, and not in a pleasant way. Akio�s death, the reoccurring nightmares, the funeral, the death of their parents� everything that had steadily stacked up and had never been truly released. Sure, they had cried every now and then, especially when they woke up from terrifying nightmares that shook them to the core. But the pain didn�t end there; it never seemed to go away. They couldn�t forget the things that had forced them to grow up, especially Akio�s senseless suicide.

Earlier that summer, before leaving for Albany, Hiro and Kane had gone to the cemetery to remember their parents and older brother, not that the three were ever far from mind. Always lurking in the shadows, waiting for a sweet dream to rip to shreds with greedy claws. Of course it wasn�t fair, but hell, that was how life was � unfair and there was nothing that could be done to change that simple fact.

Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban continued on in the background, completely ignored by the sobbing young men who clung desperately to each other. Akio had been gone for over a year now, their parents as well. But now they were being forced to let go completely; they could no longer run back to the townhouse and throw themselves onto Akio�s bed, breathing in the stubborn musk that still clung to the unchanged sheets. All of his personal belongings would have to be gathered up and put into boxes, where they would hide forever from prying eyes.

One of the greatest advantages of having their own dorm here in Albany was the fact that they didn�t have to explain their tears, and no one knew their past. They were simply Hiro and Kane Mendego, eighteen-year-old twins attending the uptown campus of University at Albany; Kane for a degree in the arts, and Hiro as a dedicated English major. Mostly, they kept to themselves, occasionally going to the local clubs with classmates and dancing into the early morning � a tradition they never seemed to tire of.

Since they were alone in the world, save for their wealth-endowed Aunt Lillian who was still extensively busy with the law firm, it was alright to let the walls down, and to cry like young children do when their mommy leaves them for the first time. Even after the DVD had long ended, returning to the main menu, dry sobs wracked their thin frames. Citrine eyes unable to produce any more tears were bloodshot and puffy, cheeks stained red from the multitude of emotions that threatened to pull them under.

And so, they surrendered. They gave in to the feelings, the voices screaming in their heads, the memories that swirled like a turbulent sea or perhaps even a whirlpool, waiting eagerly to devour ships and anything else that happened to get too close. Comfort was sorely needed, something more then just an embrace was weighting on their mind. They gave in once more, blocking out the pain and the darkness that surrounded their younger years, replacing it with the fire that never quit, which constantly burned in their veins.

Even then, the fact that they shared DNA and were brothers, twins even, couldn�t stop them from seeking the intimacy they desired. Hiro and Kane needed each other, it was entirely that simple; they craved those gentle touches, lingering kisses, warm embraces and the feeling of completion that surged through their bodies as they lay in a heap of sweaty limbs and racing hearts after making love.

Idly, Kane wondered if Akio were still alive, would he even be with his brother? Would he be committing the sin that was so delicious he couldn�t refuse? Somehow, he doubted things would have been different. Akio would probably have been involved in their madness, just as he had been that summer that Amaya and Gavin had first escaped to Japan. It was wrong, so horribly wrong� but it felt right, every single time.

They were sinners, but they were the two most beautiful sinners New York had ever been blessed with.