He can't see. There aren't any lights to see by. There is one thing he knows for sure, and it's that he's holding something cold. A liquid runs through his fingers. His hands are shaking. He wonders where the hell he is. The last thing he can remember is pain. Horrible fucking pain. And that face... That man who inflicted it on him. He couldn't stand it and he passed out... Now where is he? His eyes slowly open, and he suddenly is aware of a horrible reality.

Blood.

That's what is on his fingers, his palms, the blade of the katana in his hands. It's what is in the fountain, among the pebbles of the middle garden of the estate. Spattered on his chest, staining his kimono.

Blood.

It's in his mother's hair. Her lovely, soft raven hair is dyed red. He can't breathe. She looks distraught, as if she'd wanted peace, but he'd stolen it from her in cold blood. He'd murdered her. Staring at the blade in his hands, he realizes what he has to do. If he's really killed his mother... There isn't a reason to carry on living. He's a monster. He turns the blade inward towards his stomach...

He can't do it. For whatever reason, he can't do it. He wants to. It's the only fucking thing he wants to do right now and he cannot bring himself to gut himself with the same sword he'd used to kill her. He curses whatever force is preventing him, and slumps to the ground, not knowing what else to do.

Koujaku lowers the blade, staring down at his hands. He's killed again. It doesn't fill him with grief as it had the first time, but it doesn't make him happy, either. Gulping, he turns away from the body. Ryuuhou is finally dead. It's what he's been trying to accomplish for the last fifteen years of his life and he's finally done it, but he's still not happy. He had vowed to himself that if even that, even the fulfillment of his only wish came about, didn't make him happy, he had only one choice left. He turns the bloodied sword over in his hands, taking in a deep breath and turning its aim at himself. He has no more reason to be here. He's left a goodbye message with Aoba and Mizuki, so no one will be left wondering where he's gone. This is it.

A hand shoots out from virtually nowhere, shoving him back and knocking the sword from his hands entirely. No one had entered the alley with him, he made sure he had covered his tracks fine, who had followed him? He looks up, and sees a completely unfamiliar face. His eyes are light green, light enough to be gray. Fair, clear skin accents the silver glint of at least ten piercings that he can see. Messy, blond hair pokes out of a knit cap, and that's when he notices the expression this boy is wearing. He looks angry, almost.

"What the hell are you doing?" This kid demands, holding onto his wrist firmly as if Koujaku had the intent of picking the sword up again.

"Wh- What do you... Who are you?" Koujaku doesn't know what to say. This doesn't make any sense. This is the second time his wishes have been ignored...

"I asked you a question first. I'm expecting an answer."

Koujaku stands stock still, shocked beyond words. He's supposed to tell this kid what he's doing? What business is it of his? He just wants to get this over with, he doesn't have time for this interruption. "Who are you?" he repeats.

"Noiz. I'm here to stop you from killing yourself." The kid states plainly, blinking at him. It doesn't look like his expression changes at all.

"How did you know that I..."

"What other reason does anyone have for pointing a sword at themselves, Koujaku?"

"How did you know my..."

Noiz rolls his eyes and lets go of his wrist, sufficiently confident that Koujaku won't try anything else for now. "Are you doing to ask any more stupid questions, or should I just explain myself?"

Koujaku growls at this, narrowing his eyes at the boy. "Sure," he grunts, looking at the ground now. Anywhere but the body.

"Well, I'd love to have a serious conversation over a dead body in a back alley, but something tells me standing around here isn't going to be safe for much longer." Noiz deadpans, glancing at the corpse between them. "Also, you look like hell. You need a shower, old man."

Koujaku bristles at the insult. Old man? He's not that old. He's only 28 as of this August. That's not old. Crossing his arms over his chest like a child, he huffs at the boy.

"What? Lead the way." Noiz sighs, gesturing towards the end of the alley, exasperated.

At this, Koujaku turns and starts walking at a pretty fast pace, hoping the kid feels like he can't keep up. A thousand questions are passing through his head at once. First of all, who is this kid really? His name is Noiz, obviously, but he still doesn't understand how he knows his name. He draws his kimono tightly around his shoulders so as not to let anyone see the blood dotting his chest. Beni perches on his belt, frowning up at him.

"Koujaku, are you sure we can really trust this prick?" He pipes up, completely audible to Noiz.

For obvious reasons, this pleases Koujaku and he doesn't quiet him. "We shouldn't. He's just a reckless teenager," he scoffs, grinning to himself. Hearing a short grunt behind him, the man unlocks his apartment and enters. Noiz follows behind and doesn't try to stab or attack Koujaku. This somehow disappoints him, because it raises more questions than answers.

"Go shower, you smell like a murder scene." It's almost funny how literally Noiz means this when he says it. Instead of laughing, however, Koujaku shoves at him and walks off to the bathroom.

When he sees himself in the mirror, he can kind of understand where Noiz was coming from. Blood is splattered across his chest, and his tattoos coil back to their original positions when his eyes scan over them, as if frightened. He turns on the water and waits for it to heat up all the way before stripping down and standing under it. The hot water stings his back and he hisses in a breath, letting it wash over him and clean the matted blood out of his hair. It's a long, hot shower, but he manages not to think about anything too serious for the duration.

Noiz is sitting on the couch with Beni clasped tightly in his slender hands when Koujaku exits the bathroom in a pair of sweatpants and his hair out of its usual ponytail. "What are you doing?" he asks, stepping over to stand in front of the couch.

"It wouldn't shut up." Noiz plainly states.

Beni fluffs up his feathers at this, writhing in the boy's grasp. "It?! Rude asshole! I'm not just an object!" he squawks, trying to flap his wings in vain.

Koujaku sighs and sits on the couch. "Calm down, Beni." He turns his gaze onto Noiz. "Let go of him, will you? Holding him like that's only going to make him complain." As he says this, Noiz relents and lets go of the Allmate, who flaps off with a huff to sit on the coffee table. "Now, tell me. Who the hell are you really, and why do you know so much about me?" Leaning back against the cushion, the hairdresser raises a brow at Noiz.

The blond eyes him calmly. "You're so fucking thickheaded. You've known me your whole life, and now I have to explain myself. I'm hurt." The warning glare the old man shoots him tells him that wasn't funny. "I'm your guardian angel," he sighs, "I was assigned to you when you were born, and I've been making sure you don't fuck up ever since."

Koujaku is taken aback to the extent that he wonders if he's dreaming. "I... So you... Know everything. Prove it." His natural reaction is suspicion.

"About a decade ago, give or take a few years, you got a tattoo from Ryuuhou, the man you just killed. It made you lose your senses and you killed your family. Your mother. You tried to kill yourself right there, once you'd realized what you'd done." The boy's expression doesn't change in the slightest while talking about this. "I prevented you."

Koujaku, on the other hand, is shaking and looks as if about to cry. "Why... Why didn't you let me..." His voice is hoarse and he stares at his balled up fists. "I should have died back then, so why..."

"You didn't deserve it."

"I killed my own mother!" The taller suddenly explodes, gripping the edge of the couch and gritting his teeth.

"You didn't deserve it." Noiz repeats calmly, not breaking his cold gaze on the old man. "It wasn't your fault. Tell me something. Did you want that tattoo?" No response. "Did you want to kill her?" Still, nothing. "Would she have wanted you to die?"

At this, Koujaku freezes. Would she? No, of course not. His mother had loved him in the most sincere and true way possible. He shakes his head, defeated. Noiz is right, but it'll never stop haunting him.

"I told you. People fucking care about you." Noiz actually looks... A bit worried, now.

Koujaku only has a moment to wonder about the expression before he remembers something. People who care about him? "Shit," he curses. Aoba and Mizuki. He'd called them just before he'd gone out to find Ryuuhou. He'd told them he was going to die. He digs through his end table's drawer, finding his Coil. The screen is blinking, indicating missed calls. Not just missed calls, but 107 missed calls. Both Mizuki and Aoba have left him over 50 calls each. "I..."

"Call them," Noiz nods, settling back in his cushion more.

Koujaku nods quickly, tapping Aoba's contact and calling him. It doesn't ring for very long.

"Hello? Koujaku?!" Aoba's voice, panicked and shaken.

"Aoba. Aoba, I'm-"

"What the fuck were you thinking?! Calling and leaving a message telling me you're dead?! I've been worried for hours! And just why the fuck would you tell me your house was empty?! Are you home right now?!"

Koujaku frowns. "Yes," he admits.

"Don't- You- You can't do that to me! Or Mizuki! He's beside himself! Are you calling him after this?! You'd better be- I'm coming over. I'm going to finish maintenance on Ren and I'll be over." After this hasty remark, the boy hangs up and Koujaku is left stuttering.

"Great. How the fuck am I going to explain who you are?" The hairdresser exhales, pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. Not wanting Aoba to become aware of his tattoos, Koujaku grabs a shirt from his dresser and tugs it on. Upon returning, he finds Noiz watching him. "What."

"You didn't let me answer your question. Just tell him I'm your guardian angel." Calm as ever.

Koujaku narrows his eyes. "Sure. Sounds great," he snaps, plopping himself back down on the couch.

"Just a suggestion, old man." Noiz shrugs, then blinks at him. "He won't be able to see me. Usually you're not even supposed to see me. But, you're the only one who has the ability to. He won't hear me, either."

"But I will."

"Obviously."

"I'll look crazy." Koujaku states, frowning. "I can't be talking to myself in front of Aoba."

Noiz leans back in fake offense and places a hand to his chest. "Ouch. You think, no, assume that I won't behave myself and stay quiet? I thought we understood each other better than that, old man."

"I get it, I get it. Christ." Koujaku groans, covering his eyes with a scarred hand. A few seconds of silence pass before there's a knock at the door. Koujaku stands reluctantly and answers it, expecting the reaction he gets.

Both Mizuki and Aoba are there, wearing matching expressions of relief and slight anger. "Koujaku!" Is the first thing Aoba cries out, lunging and clinging onto the man tightly. Mizuki stands back before giving him a one-armed embrace as well.

"Idiot, Aoba and I thought you were dead. Like, actually dead." The dark-skinned man grunts, looking a lot more worried than he sounds when he says it.

Koujaku can only keep his eyes on the ground at this point. He feels like a complete asshole. These are his best friends on the planet, and he fucking... He sighs, just holding Aoba close to him. "I'm alright..."

"Yeah, he's just got a broken hip, is all."

Koujaku's skin prickles. That was Noiz's voice. The promise of 'behaving himself and staying quiet' apparently went out the window the fucking second these two walked in. He can't react to it, though, or he'll look like a complete freak. Instead, he carefully pries the blue-haired man off of him and smiles weakly at the two of them. "Are you guys hungry? Did you want to stay and hang out?" He asks, ignoring the laugh that sounds behind him.

Without hesitation, Aoba nods and walks into the room, plopping down onto the couch. And, consequently, onto Noiz. Koujaku watches Aoba get all comfortable right there on the boy's lap unknowingly. The angel is bright red and seems to have shut up for now. He stares at his lap full of adorable delivery boy and from what Koujaku can see, he gulps.

Koujaku has to try not to laugh. It looks ridiculous. Mizuki heads to the kitchen, probably for drinks of some kind. He'll probably get drunk, and Aoba will be all over him all night, and all over Noiz without knowing it.

He has a feeling he's in for an experience to say the least.