TITLE: CONTINUUM
CHARACTERS: OCHIAI MEGUMI, KANOU TAISUKE, YUICHI HIROSE
SPOILERS: NONE. IF YOU'VE FINISHED THE 'Heart of Akuro' ARC.
SUMMARY: There was a time before the nightmares. At this point they can only try to recall.


.2-I am here -

Katsumata takes her apart, takes her away: obscuring, reshaping, recreating; he sifts through her memories and disposes of the things he find redundant. Any scruples, all conflicting emotions, he clears her doubts and shapes her mind. For in his plans, lies no room for error.

Now beneath the gloss there lie only smeared images, mangled thoughts and scattered feelings. She is only Ochiai-san now, and a flower and the fragmented memory of two broken boys are all she takes to America.

Yet still they haunt her. In her dreams she sees them, always one step too far away, always just out of reach. At the edge of her periphery they looms: wisps of air far too intangible to grasp, a mirage, shimmering in the distance.

Sometimes, she feels like she's chasing the Sun.

-

Every night she tells The Ghost a story of three children: a quiet child, who broke beneath his mask of calm and plastic smiles, a stupid, naive boy who wanted to save the world but couldn't save himself and a girl- just the girl.

She speaks of their conquests: scabbed knees, heroic exploits gone awry and emotions that never bubbled to the surface. She smiles when she talks of how they came together but never speaks of how they fell apart.

She remembers a rooftop, the acrid taste of blood in the air (how Taisuke shielded her eyes and they took a step back and a line was drawn between them forever) and falling-falling-falling but never hearing a splat, how the only thing on her mind was thisistthisisitthisisit (: where it all falls apart and their world comes crashing down at their feet.)

A page is left blank, for she knows not of whatever happened to her boys.

They are alive.
She thinks.
Believes.
Likes to believe.

-

She is alone now, and as its breathing slows, she finds herself inevitably alone with her thoughts. Idly, she wonders where they went wrong.

Somewhere along the line, our monsters were given form and voice.
Somewhere along the line, our nightmares were given free reign on reality.

She takes slow, languid steps to her side of the bedroom and makes an effort to brush fingertips against the worn, varnished mahogany of the nightstand, before reaching for the flower. Still pristine, it never wilts, never withers.

She brushes back stray stands of hair and twirls the flower within her grasp, all the while thinking of the irony of it all as she mutters, expression forlorn and far too old for someone her age, "Little white weed that won't die…"

The prospect of something more is the only comfort she can draw.

This is not their end.


What is this? Who am I?

Taisuke has forgotten.
He has lost them- his name, his family, his life.

He hangs the white linen out to dry and aches with the memory of white sundresses. The children scurry about his feet, laughing and playing.
(The melancholy smile he wears in their wake is inadvertent.)

On most days, sleep holds no dreams, though he is not always so fortunate.

Its always the same dream. Cinders burn at his feet, people are screaming and the world's on fire. He looks down and he's drenched in blood, looks up and meets someone's gaze. That person- he smiles, maddeningly wide, as the world disintegrates about them, and reality falls to ashes and dust.

Kanou wakes.

It's always the same dream.
It's always those same pair of soulless eyes.

He wipes the sweat from his face, looks out the window, at the dark skies.
There's no moon out tonight, but the stars always are.
And in the black backdrop, he's never seen them shining so bright.

He decides to take a walk.

-

He slips out the caravan and wanders the beach. He sinks his toes into the sand, and lets the waves lap at his feet. He has never been much of an artist, but he finds himself tracing careless patterns into the dust. When it is done, he steps back to admire his handiwork.

He laughs, points out to no one in particular but himself, "You look familiar..."

People would probably shoot him an odd look if they saw this entire display. That's okay though, he'd probably just smile at them and then laugh some more. Not everything's changed.

He leaves behind footprints in the sand and doesn't think about how the tide will come and sweep it all away.

-

"Maybe its better this way. Maybe deep, deep down you don't want to remember."

Taisuke pats her head and walks away before she can see his expression darken. He busies himself with fulfilling mundane chores, nods and laughs when Aoi talks to him but sometimes; registers only blond hair and blue eyes. Of this, he feels guilty.

"I mean, think about it. There're any number of people you could have been before you became you." Aoi assumes a contemplative expression, and her tone is completely serious, "Frankenstein-ish monster, accountant, evil clone. The list goes on."

He guffaws. He's not good with numbers, he was probably a delinquent.

"My money's on the evil clone."

She frowns. "You don't have any money."

-

He gets headaches often.
He's gotten better at cooking.
He feels empty sometimes.
He still smiles a lot, still laughs, still cusses.

And the past continues to haunts.


In this place there is no semblance of time. Just a present that stretches on and on and on, into infinity.
Its not exactly purgatory, more like eternity.

There isn't much to do here. He doesn't know how much time has passed or why he is alive.
(But he is, regardless.)

Sometimes the heart speaks to him, regales him with tales in tongues long dead. Of the fight and the flight, of the great escape.
(They are the fallen.)

Sometimes he forgets who he is, loses himself in the sea of souls. They are one entity now, and its either reign supreme or be engulfed.
(Hirose chooses to rule.)

Sometimes he remembers the past, and the memories are the most painful to relive.
(Because when he is done, he realizes he is alone now.)

Mostly, Hirose just sleeps.
(He does not dream.)

He'll wait here for them, in this not quite hell. No matter how long it takes.
(For Ochiai-san, for Taisuke. )

If he were who he was in the beginning, he would dare to hope.
(He knows they can never go back.)

.

.

.

Taisuke forgets, Megumi tries to remember, and enclosed in his sphere devoid of time, logic and reason, Hirose only waits.


A/N: Megumi's part was done half a year ago. Taisuke's was done last week. Hiro's done now.
....They makes me ;__; in a good way, 'specially Hirose.

1.i'm too much of a lazy ass-hat to reply to reviews sometimes. Sorry for this. I do read all my reviews though. D:
They make me uber happy?
2. I noticed that I don't write characters other than the usual three. D: I actually like them all except for Dr Horner, who I want to die a slow, painful death, and maybe the sergeant.
3. ..... Sorry for the bracket abuse. School taught us, but errr, i kinda forgot how to (properly) use them. So, D:

Triple D:
I resolve to change this.
Sorry.

I like to rant.
And...your thoughts on this? I'd like to hear them. xD Or on the manga's current direction?

Its 2:06 AM in Singapore. I'm going to sleep now.
Thanks for reading.