Tummy Ache
Author: Noin Yuy
Disclaimer: Not mine… you know the drill..
Warily rousing out of my subconscious, I stretched and yawned, restlessly tossing around searching for a comfortable position, waiting for sleep to reclaim my drowsy head. Just before slumber caught me, I suddenly felt this terrible gnawing pain that began in my stomach and twistedly branched throughout the rest of my body with forceful commands.
Hunger.
The demand blazed in bold neon letters in my mind. The dire urge compelled me to full wakefulness, blankly staring at the cracked eggshell ceiling.
Stripping the thin white sheet off of my half clad figure and swinging my legs over the side of the bedside, I tiredly made my way to the kitchen. Yawning, I opened the refrigerator; I listlessly glanced at my selections. Cold air poured out and crawled on to my bare skin. Shivering, I closed the door and turned towards the pantry. Grabbing a box of Cheerio's off the shelf, I dug my hand straight into the box. I munched the honey flavored cereal as I plopped on to the couch. Turning on the television, I continued eating though not paying much attention the images flashing across the screen. Soon afterwards, my fingernails scratched the bottom of the plastic bag within the box.
The hunger had grown rather than shrunk.
I quickly caught a short framed flashback of that mission where those guys stole a girl's kidney.
Maybe someone snuck into my room in the middle of the night and took my stomach!
Maybe they took my esophagus!
Or maybe…
I'm going mental.
I took a deep breath, clearing my head from deranged ideas.
After pilfering everything edible in my kitchen, I soon found that my hunger was hopelessly unquenchable by any food within my household and possibly the entire world. Opening the fridge, I selected the milk, checked the expiration date, and kicked the door shut with my foot. In the back of the cupboard I found some Ovaltine. Dumping a generous amount of chocolate powder, I simultaneously poured milk into the glass as I mixed the drink. Taking it all in with one gulp, I found that it certainly did not satisfy my maniacal craving. Emptiness ripped me apart internally. This was a hunger I've never felt before.
Weakness came with the hopeless craving for food. Sickness soon after, for I have eaten too much. I practically crawled to the bathroom, clutching the sides of the porcelain bowl and regurgitated everything I had eaten. My throat burned with a thick acidic flavor. Shakily wiping the corner of my mouth, I flushed the toilet and stumbled towards the sink. My strength was quickly ebbing away as I splashed cold water against my burning face. After drying myself, I lumbered into the bedroom; my vision was becoming unfocused and doubling as my eyelids grew heavy. Falling into the sheets, I used the last of my power to tuck my blanket under my chin as sleep overcame me.
::~*~::
"..Ugh.."
I turned over, half asleep, immediately regretting the move as my head throbbed unbearably. Along with that, weakness and hunger pulsed through my body. With the exception of that thick, puffy feeling in my mouth, I felt like I had a first class hangover.
Through the pain, the nagging ring of the phone loudly belted from the table alongside my bed.
Moaning with distress, I reached over and blindly groped for the phone. It weighed more like a ten pound barbell than a simple plastic phone.
"Moshi mosh?" I mumbled into the receiver.
"Hey, Ken." A quiet voice greeted me. "It's almost noon, why aren't you here? I'm, I mean, we're getting worried. Is something wrong?"
Yohji.
"Umm.."
"Or did you just oversleep?"
How was I supposed to tell him that there is something wrong with my digestive system and no matter how much food I eat, I still feel hungry?
"I'm sick." I explained, feigning a short coughing fit at the last syllable.
"Ooh. Sounds bad." He clicked his tongue, "Well, I hope you get well soon," He kindly offered his condolences.
The corner of my mouth heavily twitched upwards in a half smile, "Thanks, Yohj'."
"All the girls under 18 are looking for ya." He kidded.
"Oh, well. Their loss."
Yohji chuckled softly, his voice resounding inside my head loudly. I could feel a headache was coming on.
"I'll see you later, alright? Bye." He said.
" 'Kay. Ja."
Click.
I groaned, shutting my eyes and sloppily dropping the phone into its cradle. The noisy clatter was magnified in my sensitive ears.
Opening my eyes, I stared blankly at the ceiling muttering jumbled thoughts and miscellaneous nonsense under my breath until my eyelids grew heavy and my room faded into a black dimension where time ceases to exist.
::~*~::
"Mmm.."
A low sound rumbled in my throat as I gradually slipped back into reality. My dream seemed to be sending me into a blissful wakefulness for once.
Surprisingly, I didn't have that hang-over-heavy-headed-dry-mouth-pained stomach-weak-limbed feeling. I felt strangely lighter, stronger, peaceful, and not drowsy at all. Somehow, I felt full. Like the thirst quenched, the wound healed, the worst was behind me.
Sitting up, I was immediately struck with a wave of nausea and, in panic, my head returned to the flattened pillow like a block of lead.
"..Uhh.." I moaned, shading my eyes with my forearm. This was some sort of trick. Pretend friendship leading into me into a ruining prank. How tantalizing that moment of peace was! Giving a poor man riches for a day and stripping him of power the next.
Every tiring emotion returned, seizing control of my body once again. I reached back in my memory to remember my dream but everything was now cloudy and uncertain. Am I even awake? Is this all just a terrible, terrible nightmare?
Struggling half against my will, I sat up and trudged toward the kitchen in attempts to lessen the growing hole in my stomach.
Minutes later, while listlessly chewing on a tasteless chocolate bar, I realized that there was a gigantic void inside of me that food simply could not fill. It was a void so black and vast, that it was sucking away from my life source. I pondered the thought around until there came two staccato raps from the front door of my apartment.
I advanced the door, almost using up all my strength. I was out of breath and shallowly gulping air as I opened the door.
As it gave way, I was met by a boy clad in a denim jacket and jeans. A ruby red shirt peaked out from under his jacket and I noticed that a simple silver chain hung around his neck. His lilac eyes gazed at me in deep concern.
"Ohayo, Omi-chan." I gave a weak smile.
"Hi Ken-kun," He returned a bright smile, staring directly into my eyes. For some reason, the void shrunk in the slightest sliver.
"C'min." I croaked, weakly stepping back and trying to make way for him to enter.
"Uh, sure." He stepped in, quickly glancing around, "Yohji wasn't kidding when he said you were sick."
I shrugged and led him in with the aid of his strong arm but gaining energy myself.
" 'Rigato." I breathed in relief and gave him a weary exasperation as he lowered me onto the couch.
The sofa bounced lightly as he took a seat next to me.
"Ken-kun." He said, refusing to look into my eyes.
"Yeah?" I asked, leaning back and stretching.
"..Uhm.." With effort I stole glance at the boy. His body was ridged, stiff. I've never seen him so tense. Unbeknownst to me, my hand shot out and soothingly massaged his right shoulder.
He jerked and stared at me. He had such a look confusion and surprise that I couldn't help but laugh.
My giggle turning into a minor coughing fit, apparently alarming the young boy.
"Ano.. I think you need the massage, Ken-kun."
Ken-kun.
He was always so polite. I wished he would just drop the pleasantries around me. I didn't deserve that kind of respect. I was an assassin. A killer. A murderer. My hands have long been stained with the blood of others. My eyes have seen so many killings that I no longer flinch or react to my killings. Killing was my job. The reality of death, of killing, no longer strikes me as frightening but as an everyday factor of life.
I focused my eyes on his sapphire orbs and a little voice reminded me that he was an assassin too. He went on missions by my side, watch body parts stray from the main portion, saw blood erupt from a wound, and slain another by his hand. He's heard a dying man's last breath. He was like me. Yet nothing that has happened has corrupted his innocent soul. He has stayed untouched by all the bloodshed, all of the killings. It's like he was perfect. I've seen his flaws, the mistakes he's made. But they're in a way, perfect. He was untouchable. It was as if a clear shield surrounded him at all times, protecting him from outside corruption.
I didn't notice it but as we sat there, I lost in my thoughts and he, curiously gazing at into my cloudy eyes, my hunger was ebbing, my strength returning and my body.
One of his hands was clasped to my forehead and the other pressed against the side of my neck.
"Ken-kun! You're temperature! It's returning! You used to feel so cold."
I gave him a smile.
"But you're still sick." He chided me. Sometimes it was as if he was the older one in this relationship.
"I know, I know." I rolled my eyes in pretend annoyance.
"Ken-kun!"
I grinned wickedly at him, "Yes, mother?"
He reeled back in feigned shock. "Mother!? Oh, you did not just go there!" He threatened jovially, pointing a finger at me.
"Well, it looks like I have!" I countered teasingly.
He reached forward, hands outstretched and fingers poised for attack. I shrieked delightedly, grabbing a couch pillow to defend myself as he charged against me in mock assault.
We battled immaturely on the couch until I whacked Omi off balance in the middle of one of his laughing fits. With catlike reflexes, his hand shot out hooking around my waist and dragging me to the ground. The floor shook on impact. We blinked at each other for a moment and then burst into loud, obnoxious laughter.
After a few minutes, I had gained possession of my lungs and caught enough air to gasp, "You're such a bad loser, Omi! Pullin' me down when you go under!"
He giggled severely, "Knock off, Ken!" He managed, swinging his arm playfully in a mock attempt to strike me.
He did, however, manage to loose his balance and collapse on top of me and all of a sudden--he stopped laughing. I followed his cue but kept a huge grin on my face, feeling a strange glow within me as whilst gazing into his cerulean blue orbs.
His smile faded as his fingers lightly brushed my bangs from my heated face.
"Kakoi." He breathed. His eyes took on a pale, dazed yet liquid finished stare as he fixated his eyes on me. I could feel him searching the depths of my soul. My jaw unhooked, dropping slightly in awe at this breathtaking vision.
I froze, watching him as he gradually leaned forwards, his nose brushed with mine and before I knew it, we shared the same breath.
Silky rose pink lips pressed against mine for a sliver of a second. Once he felt contact, his eyes refocused and a jolt shook his body. He pulled away, shaking his head as if to clear it.
His slender body trembled uncontrollably, his voice wavering, "Go-gomen, K-Ken-kun!" With that, he attempted to arise and stumble away. Luckily, my agile hand shot out and tightly gripped his ankle and held sturdily, with the use of my returning strength. Naturally, the younger boy opposed.
"Omi," I said through grit teeth as he squirmed wildly.
"Omi-chan." I echoed, softer. He paused and weakened, my grip on him no longer required, but I held on regardless.
"H-h-hai, Ken-kun?" He turned away and lowered his gaze, biting his lip, a slight tremor in his shoulders.
"Ken." I corrected.
"Hai, Ken?"
His voice was a little stronger this time, though he continued to refuse to meet my eyes as if he were a scared and timid child, unknowing of the events that are to come, afraid of the consequences.
I searched for words to console him, though my head was still swimming in confusion.
All that would come out was a quiet and gentle, "Why?"
"Ah?"
"Why, Omi-chan?"
A thick silence suspended the conversation. Omi appeared to be chewing on his tongue, contemplating his next words.
Though impatient, I waited, pretending to idly observe the ceiling.
Finally, he broke the silence.
"Aishiteru, Ken."
My jaw dropped slightly.
Aishiteru, Ken.
My head was spinning. I've never been told that before.
Never.
Aishiteru, Ken.
Omi was the first person that ever really loved me.
So many emotions welled inside of me, all battling for my expression:
Delight, ecstasy, intoxication, rapture and the overpowering desire to laugh and smile till my face cracks.
But there was also, shock, fear, doubt, dread and something that made me want to run and hide, afraid of being loved for a little while and dropped.
Omi watched me closely, his eyes wide and wondering, his breath held in anticipation.
I gave him an unreadable stare, the only expression I could muster.
His bottom lip trembled; his cerulean eyes brimming with tears, suddenly recoiling from me as if I had struck him. Hard.
Abruptly, he scrambled away, attempting to get on his feet and run.
For a moment, I watched him and then broke out of my trance, clambering foreword and impetuously leaping on top of him to prevent him from moving.
I leaned my face close to his and we locked our gazes.
"Omi… aishiteru." I breathed, lightly tracing his silky lips with the pad of my thumb as he had done.
His lithe body shook in my arms as I pressed a gentle kiss on his lips.
Eventually, we released each other.
His nimble hands toyed with my hair as I leaned into his chest, wafting gently, soothingly, comfortably.
After a while, Omi said something, the vibration of his voice hummed relaxingly in my ear.
"Mmm, Omi-chan?"
"I asked you if you felt any better."
"Much." I affirmed.
It was true.
The void was filled and although I was emotionally weary, my strength had returned. My heart was bursting with so much joy I was afraid it might explode.
As an afterthought, I added,
"It was only a tummy ache."