Recall
By Any Unborn Child
Of all the things Subaru could remember about Seishiro, he remembered his touch the most.
A cracked eyeglass glints under moonlight…
Cold hands grasp at naked skin…
Sakura blossoms floated, whipped away by wind…
They were never too far from him,
They were never too far from Seishiro.
Subaru felt unsettled. Kamui usually kept a close eye on him, and while on an errand or a mission, he would repeatedly ask Subaru what was wrong, why his eyes were so vacant. Subaru, hearing Kamui's voice rise with panic, would say that he was fine, that there was nothing to worry about.
It was unclear exactly when Subaru had unraveled, when he began to think about him again. Seishiro appeared to him, frayed at the edges. He wasn't going to find them, find him. Not again. How could he? It was impossible. It was impossible. Wasn't it?
. In the early morning hours, when Subaru would wake long before the others, that was when he remembered him, the feel of his touch.
Roots were tangled around his wrists, his ankles, his exposed throat…
Impossible to move... Impossible to get away…
One morning, this was the case. He woke up before the sky could go back to grey. For months at a time he saw nothing but smog and rain that bit at exposed skin. In his routine, he walked down multiple stone stairs, their surfaces cracked veins. Since staying in Tokyo, he walked down these stairs hundreds of times. When he could feel the thoughts coming, he started to run, urging his tired bones to make it to the bottom of the staircase, if only there. Once on the bottom floor, he sat near the bottom of the stairs, and waited for the memories to pass.
Mornings passed like this with no exception. Amidst the piles of rubble and ash, Subaru could see sun streams that hid the clouds. They peeked out from time to time, like a lost child, but did not venture far, if at all. He felt small even under the crumbling tower.
When he was with Kamui and the other members of their group, he felt secure. Safe. Even in the midst of uncertainty, he still felt safe when he was with them. They were strong, scared people huddled together under darkened clouds and circumstance. It was not often when he was by himself, especially in the early morning. He did not want to disturb them. They needed their rest. They all did. He did not want them to know what was plaguing him, even if they were already aware.
One morning he was unable to make it to the bottom of the stairs. It was a day or so Syaoran and the others had left Tokyo. The flashes of touch rushed into his mind like running water. He would close his eyes, clench his fists, and in an instant Seishiro appeared before him.
Sporadic flashes of touch pulsed in his memory. Subaru closed his eyes for an instant, and he started to remember.
Cold hands grasp at naked skin…
He can't get away. Not from his touch.
Not from the touch that burned like ice onto his flesh.
The first cut from Seishiro's knife stung the most. It was a welcome reminder of what Subaru was to him.
The cuts became longer and longer. They curved, barely skirting Subaru's jugular. They were never near any part vital to Subaru's survival – just barely enough. They bled into each other, the new wounds barely noticeable amongst the old.
Trickles of errant blood ran down his throat. They became soaked in his shirt amongst cold sweat.
Seishiro's cold, soft lips were against his own bloody ones. They traveled around and near his lips.
No.
He can't get away.
Subaru couldn't escape.
How could he?
Stabbing pain erupted and dug deep at his sides...
Come back…
Come back…
To Subaru, Seishiro's touch was instinctual.
Mere moments appeared as hours to him.
"Subaru! Subaru!"
Kamui was yelling for him. He could sense him.
"SUBARU!"
Kamui shook him roughly.
"SUBARU! Answer me!"
Subaru blinked, and saw Kamui in front of him. His eyebrows were furrowed in a mix of frustration and relief. Kamui went to Subaru's level, on his eyes, and looked Subaru right in the eye.
"Your eyes. They were vacant again. Are you all right?"
Subaru looked away from Kamui's lingering gaze, unsure of how to answer. The unease in the air said it all.
He couldn't get away, no matter how hard he tried.
