Author's Note: Ummm. I dunno. I was trying to sleep and the imagery kept nagging at me so I got up and wrote it. Partly inspired by the song "Angels Would Fall" by Melissa Ethridge prolly. this is what I get for listening to music before bed. *shrug* I may continue it, I dunno, I did kind of leave it wide open at the end. ^^; Lemme know if you think I should continue it I guess? Set after the last chapter- has lots of references to particular scenes from Tokyo Babylon and X.
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Crime:
1. A deed that goes against any law or morality whatsoever, a premeditated act that causes damage to valuables or disobeys social order (to commit a crime)
2. Penalty, punishment. Yield to a crime's punishment. To punish for a crime.
3. (according to Christianity, Buddhism, and other creeds) An act that goes against the precepts.
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Creak.
He had never reported to the landlord that the hinges of the front door needed oiling. He tried his best to close the door more quietly so as not to disturb the neighbors, carefully sliding the lock in place with a soft yet reassuring click. Funny how that little inch of metal was suppose to keep people out. Even more interesting how it kept him in.
Swish.
A thin bolt of cloth rustled and sighed. The broken window pane was never a problem. He never seemed to notice the cold as the sun sleepily lay down its head behind the horizon and the patterns the glass shards made with their crystalline glisten provided him with something to stare at on the days when he found himself sitting on the edge of the bed again, smoke lazily drifting from the glowing embers between his fingers. Now a few scattered pieces made a quiet crunch of protest as he crossed the floor of the flat.
Drip.
The leaky faucet could probably be easily fixed. Once it had been during routine maintenance. Several sleepless nights had passed before he had realized that it was the lack of a steady drip that had drastically augmented the emptiness of the apartment. How empty it must have been for a few drops of water to not go unnoticed.
It only took a few moments to fill the bathtub. Subaru was not waiting for the heater to kick in, simply letting cold water gush out of the faucet at the highest possible velocity. He couldn't have said what he did in the meantime. He didn't remember. Perhaps he contemplated removing his clothing but it was in vain if he had.
The boots went in first, the laces grasping for the surface as the soles hit the pristinely porcelain bottom of the tub, immediately smudging it with the dirt and tar and grime of all the places he had been. The edges of the leather coat similarly waved through the water in a futile attempt not to sink as Subaru slid in. At last the only things still out in the air were the tops of his knees, his hands, and his head. He stared at the hands for several long moments, listening to the drip of two faucets now, waiting for the sound to synchronize but it never did.
He relaxed his arms and watched, fascinated as the blood of his last victim began to gradually dissipate in the water as his hands slid beneath the surface. The water around them turned an uneven pinkish red like smoke painting the air gray.
Romantic. He thought vaguely and leaned back.
Slipping underwater was like slipping in between dimensions he had always thought. It may as well have been anyway. You couldn't hear things from the other world you had just left properly, but you couldn't hear things from the one you were headed to either. You could see things if you opened your eyes but it was disorienting to look at where you had come from that way. The scenery just couldn't be still, even if you could. Wasn't it supposed to be the other way around? Weren't people supposed to move and their surroundings stay still? You couldn't smell things either, although you could taste the water if you opened your mouth or stuck out your tongue. Somehow though, it never tasted the same when you were in it as when you were drinking it from a glass, as though that sense were just as tampered with as the rest. You could feel too but even that was distorted by being in water when the sudden awareness of one's entire body as the feeling of both the heaviness and weightlessness kicked in.
Maybe this was purgatory.
Subaru closed his eyes.
He was lying on white sheets. Or maybe just one white sheet. It was hard to tell the way it was rumpled and creased. He sighed softly and twitched as a feather brushed across the back of his hand, disturbed by the small breath.
A pair of lips brushed across the back of his hand and thin slivers of blood welled up across it.
A drop of blood, just the tiniest drop, fell, leaving a miniscule stain on the sleeve of Subaru's white pajamas.
"You can call me Seishirou."
One pane of smooth glass was hung on a wall at the end of a long dark hallway.
"Would you blame a mistake on someone who did not know what he was doing?"
Of course he wouldn't. Unless that person was himself. There was a pane of glass on his own wall as well. Subaru forced himself to look in it every single day to wish his reflection a good morning. It was the closest he could get to keeping his promise to Hokuto to do so.
"I'm sure that you're intentions were good."
Why was the room so empty? Why were there no personal affects? Why hadn't he noticed that before?
The sound of glass shattering out in the hallway was surely just a dream.
Maybe this was all just a dream?
Drip.
He saw the flash of metal, heard the ranting of a person whose desperation had pushed her over the edge labeled "sanity".
He never realized how arbitrary that label was until now. How could any person decide what made someone "sane"? What good could it possibly do to say that someone wasn't? Why was there only "sane" and "insane"? Could someone be stuck in between? What did that make them?
He didn't move on purpose, fully prepared to bear the brunt of the attack himself. No amount of preparation for physical pain though could have readied him for the heart-wrenching moment of realization that struck full-force when he saw the rivers of red trailing sickly from beneath Seishirou's bangs, over his cheek, to drip from his chin.
Drip.
Another drop of blood fell, leaving another small dark stain on the white cloth. It dripped over Subaru's stomach, leaving a small stain on the sheets as well, although the feathers remained untouched.
"Cherry blossoms start out white. White like snow."
"To break your arm like this or to break a glass- where is the difference?"
He couldn't take it anymore. He felt the pinch of nails against the sensitive skin of his palm as he balled his hand into a fist. A fast and hard slam against it was more than enough to shatter the mirror. He ignored the rivulets dripping from his hand, staring at the shattered bits of a reflection he no longer recognized.
That's right. It wasn't glass from the window pane he had walked across. It was the shards of the mirror he hadn't touched since that day.
"I'll stay by your side."
Liar.
"I'll see you again soon."
"We'll meet again someday."
Liar!
Those lies should not have hurt the most. Or so he thought. But maybe this was just like the question of sanity. Who could really say what should or should not hurt.
He shouldn't hurt.
He didn't hurt.
He ran his fingertips over the silky-soft edges of a feather like snowy eyelashes.
He didn't hurt. Nothing hurt.
Drip.
How could it hurt when you couldn't feel?
"I felt nothing. Though drenched in my mother's blood, I felt nothing."
"Maybe all people who do bad things are really just lonely."
Isn't loneliness a form of pain though?
There were screams and flames and the wail of sirens and there was a dim notion that Subaru should worry for his safety but that notion was drowning in the face inches away from his own. There was a cut on it, thanks to him, a slash across his left cheek.
Another tiny, tiny drop of blood stained the cuff of his pant leg, seeping through just enough to faintly kiss the unmarked skin beneath.
Wind.
A spell.
Concentration.
Anticipation.
Heavy.
Confusion.
Something wet was on his hand.
Drip.
Another drop fell and blossomed, spreading through the fabric to greet the stains of another drop that had just fallen then another, and another and…
"You're too kind."
"I couldn't…"
"That's why…"
Another mirror shattered.
"I…"
A breath tickled his ear.
A breath blew away several feathers.
The red was darkening as it skimmed over his body. The fabric was shifting from a soft, light cotton to something heavier.
Heavy. Something heavy was in his arms.
Oh yeah.
Leather clothes clung to his skin.
He clung to the body.
He reached for the container held out before him.
And signed a death warrant.
If only it had been his own.
"Is that so?" What a callous response to the death of a fellow dragon.
The sheets were changing too. Black on black now.
But the feathers were still white. There were fewer. But they were white.
The cloak whipped around him.
"Subaru? Why…"
"Why do you think?"
Why?
Ring.
Subaru stirred.
Drip.
The shrill tone of an answering machine was followed by a gravelly voice. "Subaru? I know you're there. Subaru, please pick up the phone. Subaru! Listen, Subaru, why don't you come home for a few days? I really think it would do you some good."
Good?
"Please Subaru. Please just… call back."
Click.
Subaru opened his eyes to see nothing but white and for a moment he thought maybe he was back in the room with the sheets and the feathers. Then he realized it was the porcelain side of the bathtub. He shifted slightly, feeling the unpleasant pull of soaked leather clinging to damp skin.
He disentangled himself from the small, cramped ball he had been curled into and sat up.
Drip.
He wondered numbly where the rest of the water was for a moment before stiffly trying to pull himself to a standing position. Spending a night curled up in a cold, small space apparently was not so kind to one's muscles.
Then again, when was he ever kind to any part of himself.
He stumbled as he tried to stand and fell back to his knees with a thud and a wince.
A shuffle at the doorway of the bathroom made him freeze before attempting again and he stared at the bottom of the tub, at the cold white porcelain beneath him, unwilling to look up as a voice he recognized spoke up.
"We need to talk."