DMMD not mine okee dokie
Sleep didn't come easily to her these days. Rather the nights were left in a dreary haze of toss and turn, unable to take the solace of rest in this empty house.
Inevitably every night she would find her way onto her back to stare at the ceiling only to give in moments later. Dragging her weary body out of the futon she would dress in a robe and slippers and make her way to the kitchen to brew tea.
Inevitably every night her feet would lead her up the stairs, old joints creaking mildly in protest, to come to his room. Her fingers would find the door and draw it open, unworried about waking an occupant for there was none.
That there was none was no doubt the reason for her lack of sleep, Tae knew. Aoba's disappearance had left a cold hollow of unrest in her chest and unfortunately there was nothing she knew of except his return that would heal the void.
"I'll definitely come back." He had said then, nearly a year ago now, with something approaching optimism shining in his hazel eyes.
Tae had wanted to believe him. To this day she still wanted to believe him.
Midorijima had changed vastly with what was no doubt a failure on her grandson's part to defeat Toue. Platinum Jail had expanded its walls with the aid of their brainwashing technology, pushing the Old Residential District further and further until there was hardly any room for them. The disappearance of people occurred much more frequently now, dragged off either by Morphine or the police and dissidents were often found dead in their beds.
Tae knew her own death was encroaching and she frankly doubted that it would be from natural causes no matter what the police would say upon seeing her corpse.
Tonight was a night like many others. She had spent it tossing and turning her weary bones into soreness before giving up sometime around two. Rising stiffly with a deep sigh she slipped her tired self into the kitchen, reflecting that the rising expense of groceries should prevent her from her nightly tea.
She boiled the water anyways. Inflation was something that hardly mattered to her at current.
After all she wasn't exactly cooking for two people anymore.
Grief struck her skull with a chisel and she uttered a soft 'Tch' beneath her breath, cursing her stupid grandson for what must have been the fifty-thousandth time.
The dwindling sparkle of hope beating in her chest was nearly vanished. Damn her for getting attached to that small blue haired child.
Damn her.
A noise stirred her from her musings. Furrowing her brow the woman turned her gaze ceiling-ward. That had almost sounded like the roof…?
Probably just a cat.
Rising from her seat to shuffle over to the stove, the strawberry haired woman decided not to ponder on her empty kitchen and instead went through the motions of preparing her nightly tea.
Her hands paused. Another noise...a burglar perhaps? Or even an assassin come to slay her at last? Snorting over her melodrama as she set the infuser into the steaming water, Tae frowned. The least they could do, if that were the case, was to come through the damn front door like a gentleman would.
The soft creaks and groans ceased. She turned to look behind her and found nothing.
Her imagination maybe? Perhaps, and the house she lived in was getting old so it could easily have been that as well. All the same however there was a pulling in her gut, a strange suspicion brewing and she left her tea to steep as she turned toward the stairs.
The old wooden steps grumbled neath her feet as she ascended them, creaking and cracking. How she yearned to hear another set of feet rush up and down these stairs, as they were wont to do in a rush every morning.
Damn her for becoming attached.
Stepping across the landing the woman slouched her way with a keen eye, tracing the familiar shadows of her home. As per usual the door to her grandsons room was closed, likewise with his parents across the way.
She had given up on seeing Haruka and Naine years ago.
Aoba on the other hand…
Her fingers found the slat in the door of her grandchild's room and pushed it to the side, the soft 'shick' perking her ears.
She had left his room exactly as he had. The pile of jeans and books still sat next to the small dresser, the sound system atop it untouched. On the side opposite the bed the computer remained turned off and an ashtray sat undisturbed in the middle of the small table.
She could recollect the day when she had found it turned to a pigsty; table overturned, drawers pulled out, computer a mess on the floor alongside the four men who were making such a racket as to rouse her from her sleep.
Aoba had looked horrified and dismayed. Koujaku, the boy's womanizer of a friend was wrestling away with a young looking stranger while another gas-mask wearing man stood by. It had been quite the scene to walk into.
She had hit them all.
Times had been good. Foreshadowed with the threat of Toue yes, but good all the same.
Tae's eyes slid about the empty room and she breathed a huff of a sigh. She had wondered if perhaps...but no, that was stupid of her.
It had just been the house complaining of its old age after all.
Her hand grasped the side of the door in preparation to close off the room yet again when a sound at the veranda caught her attention. Alarm slipped through her, quick as a shot and she turned a pale look to it. A burglar after all, come to steal from her grandson's room?
The lock broke and a prickle of anxiety shot up her spine. Backlit by the moon a bundle stumbled in passed the curtains and a startle froze the breath in her chest.
The silhouette was a vaguely familiar one with a mess of white hair and equally white boots tapping against the wooden floor. It was the mass in the person's, a man's, arms which concerned her more however.
Bundled against the cold of the night with a white longcoat was a person oddly small in an out of proportion way. Too large to be a child but too small to be an adult surely, the persona laid deathly still bridal style in the stranger's arms. Moonlight glinted off of the pale skin of one cheek and numbly Tae realized that this oddly proportioned person had long tresses of silky blue.
Her heart gave a flutter and the tension between herself and the stranger dissolved as the man took a single step forward before slowly collapsing to his knees.
"G-Grandmother...Aoba-san, please...help Aoba-san…"
"Aoba?!"
Tae rushed forward with a spryness that hardly fit her old age, eyes round and wild as she dropped to her knees in front of the pair. This person who could have been her Aoba was blindfolded and remained deathly still in the man's arms, and with a shaking hand she reached forward and took his pulse.
Strong and there. A relief surged through her that was thoroughly shattered by her next discovery when she peeled away the corner of the coat he was wrapped in.
Tae's eyes grew larger, horror rearing her back in a surge so strong it stole her breath away yet again. Everything seemed fine at first. Aoba was rather thin, any traces of muscle he had had been lost in the year he had gone so his ribs peeked through his skin.
Two shoulders rose and fell with the state of his soft breathing and with trembling fingers Tae reached forth and pressed her hand against the stump that should have led to the rest of her grandson's arm.
Then the odd proportions…
Seeking a world of denial the elderly woman removed the coat from around his legs, unshy for the fact that he was naked underneath and seeking only reassurance.
Grief lined her features as she took in the sight of her grandson's amputated thighs.
Tae shut her eyes tight, yearning for composure, and drew in a quaking breath.
'Oh Aoba...What have they done to you.'
Minutes later Aoba was safely ensconced between sheets and pillows and Tae turned her hard gaze to tousle-haired stranger, who's hair colour she vaguely recognized as belonging to the gas-mask man that year ago on the eve of Aoba's disappearance.
"First things first I suppose." Seated on the edge of Aoba's bed and longing to hold the young man's hand the elderly grandmother narrowed her eyes. "What is your name?"
Eyes the shade of coral widened momentarily before the skin beneath them creased and he turned away, appearing to gather courage.
He spoke up after a moment in a soft timid tenor.
"Clear...my name is Clear." He shut his eyes tight and turned his head even further away.
"And I'm afraid...that I am the monster who did this to Aoba-san. I don't know how good my apologies are but...I am so, so very sorry."