15
Title: Near Death Experience
Rating: Teen
Warnings: Hints of shounen-ai, violence, and character death.
Pairings: Implied LxLight.
Author's note: YEESSSS!!!! –kill self finishing story- Okay, so let me explain the background behind this one. I had watched this show called "Dark Corners". It was some dumb Halloween special, it doesn't matter. But pretty much, that's where I got this idea from. Actually, only a tiny sliver of the idea. The rest is completely my own, darlings. :D Nevertheless, I think I've spent more time on this than anything else. Argh. –facepalm- My head hurts SO much right now. Let me explain: I had already been working on this, when one day in class, my teacher says: "Okay. Over the weekend, I want you to write a story using all the elements of literature we've just gone over." And I think to myself: "Great! This will be a perfect opportunity for me to work on the Halloween Special!" So I did. I busted my ass all weekend, to be precise. Ends up being six-teen pages long, and my teacher calls me an over-achiever, because everyone else's is only two. Now, you'll notice up in the warnings it says "hints of shounen-ai", right? Right. Seeing as I didn't want my teacher to think I was weird, and rather than just leaving this as two boys, I changed one of them to a girl. So now I had to go through the WHOLE DAMN STORY and change EVERYTHING back the way it was supposed to be. This… killed me on the inside, you know that… right? Well… now you know. D:
Near Death Experience
He is frail and thin to the extreme. With dirty, oily, uncombed black hair falling over his eyes, he gives an air of mystery. His skin is as white as snow, the delicate blue veins making their presence known like no one's should. He's like porcelain, drop him and he will break into a thousand tiny pieces. The black eyes that hold his damaged soul go on forever, as if he is almost blind. But he is not, considering the terrible things he has seen. But on top of it all, he is…
Beautiful.
Broken and traumatized, he reaches out for help in the cold night. But none comes, no matter how hard he screams. His share of screaming had been done a long time ago, when he was very little. Just a small child, he reached out for help then, too. Instead he received only pain and suffering, ripping him up from the inside and manifesting itself on the bruises and inside the broken bones. Each tear that fell from his wonderful eyes was like a drop of blood that had been spent over his childhood. Despite the fact that he is beautiful, no one knows, and no one can tell. Beneath the horrendous exterior lays the heart of someone that longs to be loved. That longs to have someone's touch. Someone that cares.
He is beautiful…XxXxXxXHis eyes shoot open, and his hands shake. It's a wonder his whole body isn't convulsing, considering the circumstances. His sweat plasters his filthy black hair to his face, as if it wasn't already stringy and disgusting. He is wearing simple clothes. A white, tattered and torn white shirt and horribly ripped jeans. Both of them—curiously enough—are smeared with blood. At least, that's what it appears to be. Dark brown splotches that could potentially be blood that had dried long before. You can't see how thin he really is under that shirt, but it hangs off his scrawny frame so loosely that you gain a pretty good idea. He lays and looks up at the sky—for that is all he has to do. He has no where to go to, no one to go to.
Finally with strength he is unaccustomed to, he pushes himself from the cold cement. Though you can see his puny arms trembling with the effort, he makes it up. The front of his shirt is soaked with sweat; you can see it running down his pale and thin neck. Veins also trail gently through the milky white skin, so beautiful but also so frightening. All he can do is stand as he wakes up from a restless nights sleep filled with nightmares, and his eyes begin to droop shut again. It's no wonder, he rarely sleeps. The telltale dark circles and bags under his eyes speak only part of his story. The rest is hidden away somewhere, and he's not even sure if he has the key to his inner thoughts anymore.
With a sudden jolt and a violent shiver, he is awake again. Pressing a dirty palm to his cheek, he surveys the place he has been staying for the last six weeks. Just a simple alleyway. Very narrow, very cramped. It reminds him of home in a way, but he finds comfort in the solitary spaces, no matter how masochistic the method may be. It had rained the night before, and the aftermaths of the aggressive storm litter the ground in the form of deep puddles. His eye catches one, and a hoarse scream—if you can call it that much—escapes his mouth.
Dried blood runs from his nose all the way down his chin and neck, stopping a little before his shirt. The right side of his face is black and blue, so dark that you can barely make out the scrapes and punctures that lie underneath. He looks at his swollen eye with dismay, utterly horrified. How did this happen? Who did this? He raises his hands to his face, and to his surprise, all of his knuckles are bruised severely. Looking back at his face, he notices his lip is split badly, and he presses a finger to the injury delicately. A hiss of pain escapes his lips and he jerks back, as if afraid of his own reflection. But wait… what is that in the background?
A person.
Somebody, someone, coming closer and closer to him. The young man backs up, forgetting that the path leads him to disaster. He bumps hard into another man's chest, but he doesn't have any time to say anything. A thick cord is wrapped around his neck, and the last thing he sees in the puddle's reflection is his own bruised hands clawing for mercy.
XxXxXxXI cry out, waking myself up from a terrible sleep. My arms flailing in the darkness, I realize that I am in fact sitting up. I groan and push my fists into my eyes, thanking God that I was alone. I was dead tired the night before; I didn't even bother to get undressed for bed. Trying to slow down my heart that's currently ricocheting off the walls of my chest, I take several deep breaths. They sting in my dry throat, but they manage to calm me down just a little, and ease the sick feeling in my stomach. "Who…is he…?" I mouth, wishing to God I had an answer. The last few nights I have been having different dreams, but they're all about the same person.
This homeless man, who has evidently had a terrible life before. He doesn't speak, doesn't do anything significant, but last night's dream was the most violent. He has never gotten hurt before in the dreams. They usually end in the least aggressive way possible. With him going back to sleep or passing out or something… but why did someone try to strangle him? I shake the thought from my head, putting it away for later wondering. There's no reason for me to be having dreams like that. I've never met anyone like him in my entire life…
But somehow I felt we were connected. Somehow…
"Raito!" A musical voice calls from the other side of my door. I don't answer right away, shaking the last remains of sleep from my body and climbing out of bed. I open the blinds over my windows and sunlight floods the room. I shield my eyes with one hand and close the blinds just a little with the other. 'I must have slept late…' I thought, sighing. The young girl, Sayu—my baby sister—calls from behind my door again. It's a wonder he can't just open it herself; I don't lock it.
Padding softly over to my door, I open it to greet her. She opens her mouth to speak, but her jaw falls slack and her eyes go wide. For a moment my heart leaps, wondering if she's okay, but then she points to me. "What happened to your face…?" She whispers, almost horrified. My face? I don't remember anything ever happening to my face. And then she gasps, pointing lower. "There's blood all over your shirt, Raito!" I look down, and damn if she isn't right… Splats of blood dot the front of my shirt, and I become frightened. Not frightened for what had apparently happened to me, but frightened because I can't remember. I hate not knowing what's going on, not being in control… I rack my brain, trying to figure out where I was and what I did last night, but Sayu grabs my arm and drags me to the mirror. "Look, Raito, look!"
A cry of horror escapes my mouth once I see my face. My right cheek is slightly swollen, and a nasty scrape covers most of it. Dark brown, dried blood runs from my nose and a corner of my mouth, leaving a crusted trail all the way down to my shirt. I have a bruise just under my left eye, as if someone tried to punch me but missed my eye. There's a terrible split in my lip, but it's already formed over with a scab and left a circle of dead skin trailing around it. I swallow loudly. I can't believe what I'm seeing… what happened to me last night? "Sayu…" I whisper, noticing it hurts to speak. My jaw throbs. "…Where was I last night?"
She looks at me funny, but answers anyway. "At work. And then you came home and went straight to bed. You didn't have any of that stuff on your face when you came home…" She pauses, and then takes my hand. "Raito, what happened?" I remember… I remember going to work and coming home more tired than I had been in a long time. But that's explainable; I haven't been getting hardly any sleep lately because of those dreams. But the only thing I don't know is what happened in between the time I went to bed and the time I woke up this morning. "Did you go somewhere I don't know about last night?"
"I don't know." I answer almost instinctively. "A-at least… I don't really know. I don't think so, I… I…" I stutter, shaking my head. "I don't remember…" She wraps her two tiny hands around mine and leads me back to the bed. I sit down carefully, as if afraid of what will happen next. Which, in a way, I suppose I am. Then with a sudden start, I jump up from the bed.
"What is it, Raito? Did you remember something?" I remember something all right, but I can't tell her… or can I?
"Sayu." She nods, stepping slightly away. "You remember those dreams I've been having lately?" She nods again, biting her lower lip. "The man in the dream… he had been inured like this also. When he woke up he was like this. Just like me!" 'Except only a bit worse…' I think to myself, but I leave that detail out. "I don't know if this has anything to do with his, but… why are the injuries so similar?" She looks back toward the door nervously, as if something is watching or listening to us. But that's not possible; it's only us here.
"Raito, I'm not worried about the guy in your dreams, I want to know who did this to you!" I shake my head, placing it in my hands. But I take it away, because it hurts. "You don't know who did this?" I shake my head again. "Should I call the police?" I stand up and place a hand on her shoulder.
"That's very considerate of you, Sayu… but no. Don't call the police. I have a feeling this is something they can't deal with." Her eyes go wide, and I realize I've just said the wrong thing. "N-no, that's not what I mean… really." She crosses her arms over her chest protectively, but still looks frightened. "I meant that they wouldn't believe me. This is all about a dream… no way anyone's going to buy that." I give her my best smile, but it still hurts. "All right." I lean forward and place a hand on her head, ruffling her hair gently. "I need to get to work, and you need to get on to school already."
"It's Sunday." I feel my face flush, and I roll my eyes and laugh.
"Whatever, I knew that."
XxXxXxXI rub my eyes, trying to ignore the stares that have followed me everywhere so far. They're not stares of horror, more of concern than anything else. But they still make me nervous as I step into the elevator of the hospital. I begin to close my eyes, but the doors open again. It's my boss, or my superior, either one. But nonetheless, she is my friend. The first person I have told about my dreams, and she understood me. She has shoulder length black hair, bangs swept neatly to the side. She's very beautiful, but married, nonetheless. I was there; she had invited me to her wedding. Sayu had loved it; she had never been to a wedding before.
"Suzu-jo." I say, smiling my best. The doors close behind her, and she turns my way, but stops immediately when she sees my face. "I know—" I start, but she stops me.
"Yagami, what happened?" I shrug, and she crosses her arms. "Don't play games. What happened? Did you get into a fight?" I shake my head. I really don't want to talk, but if she keeps asking me questions I might have to. "Well, if that didn't happen, what did?" I shrug again, and her features tighten into an impatient mask. "Come on, speak up."
I bite my bottom lip, but a hiss of pain escapes my mouth when I bite down on the cut. "Ah… honestly, I don't know." She raises one eyebrow at me, signaling either two things. One, she doesn't believe me. Two, she wants me to keep going. I choose option two. "I just woke up, and all this stuff was on my face." Her features change from impatience to concern, and she steps closer, examining me. It's bad to show up at work hurt when you work with a bunch of doctors, isn't it? She takes my chin in her hands, leaning closer to me.
"It looks like someone attacked you, Raito." She states matter-of-factly, and I almost want to roll my eyes. "Are you sure you don't remember anything?" I nod, though it's somewhat restricted by her firm grip on my chin. "I really find it hard to believe that a down-to-earth guy like yourself can't remember what happened to him last night." I look down, sighing.
"Well, I'm sorry." I say, gently taking her hand away. "I really am. I just can't remember anything that happened." She looks at me strangely. "I know you probably don't believe me, but if I were you… I wouldn't believe me either." She smiles gently, patting my shoulder in a strange way that says 'just stay out of trouble, okay?' I understand her message even though it's not spoken. We're connected like that… and that's why I think I should tell her about the dream I had last night. I take a deep breath, and for a moment it seems as though she recognizes my nervousness. "Suzu-jo… I have something to tell you."
"What is it? Do you remember anything?" I shake my head, hair falling in front of my eyes. Maybe it's better; I don't want her to see how scared I really am. "Then… go on."
I let out the breath that I have been holding, and I do my best not to sound like a total loon. "About those dreams I've been having…" She sighs also, and finally pushes the lower level floor button. "No. Before you say anything, hear me out. Please…" She passes her hand in front of her eyes momentarily, but then she looks back at me with… is that pity? I wish I hadn't have spoken up all of a sudden. "I had another one last night. That man, in the dreams… he woke up with the same things like me on his face!" Her eyes widen for a second, but she doesn't say anything as I continue on. "And he was wondering why… but then someone came up behind his and strangled his!"
The elevatordings and the doors open, and Suzu-jo steps out without another word. "Suzu-jo!" I call after her, squeezing myself through before I get caught. "What do you think? What do you think those dreams mean?" She turns back to me harshly.
"I think they mean you need to go see that psychiatrist I recommended, Yagami…"
My face falls. Psychiatrist? She doesn't think I'm crazy, does she? Even my own sister hasn't suggested I do that! "You're losing sleep, you're losing touch with reality, and you're just plain losing it." I open my mouth to say something, but she continues on in her professional no-nonsense manner. "I'm worried about you. It doesn't mean I think you're crazy. Not at all. I…" She sighs and places two hands on my shoulders, like speaking to a small child. "I just want to help you get back on your feet. Especially after what happened with—"
"No!" I shout, pushing her hands away. "Don't talk about that, I told you not to talk about it!" I stare hard into her eyes. "I never told anybody to talk about that!"
"Stop it, and just come with me. I can't have you acting up like this right now." She looks around, her dark eyes searching for something I can't see.
"No! First you tell me why you think I'm crazy!" She grips my shoulders harder, and it hurts. I began to try and move out of her grasp, but she's surprisingly stronger than I expect. "I'm not crazy, Suzu-jo! You of all people should believe me!"
"Stop it right now, Raito. You're making a scene." All though I can see how angry she is behind her eyes, she manages to keep her voice low and cool and steady. Whereas, here I am, screaming my head off.
"I don't care! There's nothing but dead people down here anyway!"
"You stop it right now!" She finally shouts at me, and I stop everything. She must really be upset. "I am really sticking my neck out hiring you, as unstable as you already are! So I don't care about your little dreams or whatever you think they mean! You leave them at home, understand me?! Your problems are not my problems, Raito. Get that through your head right this instant."
I have nothing to say.
She lets go of my shoulders, and walks off down the hall to the morgue. I have two choices. Do I stay here by myself, or do I go after her? As she disappears into the darkness, I can't decide. My head whirls, and I feel so stupid for 'making a scene' as she had put it. Her words are still ringing in my ears. Unstable? Am I really… 'unstable'? I had never noticed. I wonder who told her this… With a sudden burst of speed, I run through the doors after her, into the cold steel that is the morgue where I work. She is sitting down, head in her hands. "Suzu-jo?" I ask, my voice cracking. She looks up at me suddenly, and my heart leaps into my chest. Maybe following after her was a bad idea after all…
"Listen, Raito—" She starts to say, but it's me that cuts her off this time.
"No. It's my fault. You're right… I am…" I sigh. "Unstable." She looks at me with something I can't decipher deep in her eyes, but I can tell at least that it's not hatred. "And I shouldn't be bothering you with my problems, it wasn't right. Maybe I'll set up an appointment with that guy after all." She smiles slightly and brushes her hair away. "Don't try and tell me it's not my fault, I won't have any of it."
"I know you won't. You're stubborn that way." She stands up and walks over to the sink to clean up. I follow after her, because she looks like he's about to say something. "Raito… I want to propose something serious to you." I nod, standing by her side. 'What does she want to say?' I think to myself, heart still beating a little fast. "Before you deny everything I say, I want you to really listen." I hesitate, nervous. What could she possibly want to tell me? "Do you think that you might have done that to yourself?"
The words hit me like never before.
Done this to myself? How could she even suggest that? I'm the farthest thing from suicidal, and I wouldn't even think of hurting myself—wait. She might mean in my sleep. "W-well, I-I…" I stutter, not quite sure what to say to that. "M-m-maybe… but…wouldn't I…y'know…feel this? It's pretty bad…" She stays silent for a moment, a look across her face that tells me she thinks she might have said the wrong thing. "I don't know… M-maybe you're right." I shrug, and try to blow it off like nothing. "It's not a big deal, after all. I think seeing that psychiatrist would be a really good idea right about now." I try to make it a joke, but it doesn't necessarily work. She doesn't laugh, and now I feel worse than before.
A deep seated worry has been turned on in my mind, like a time bomb. If I can't fix it soon, it'll explode leaving my sanity a pile of broken glass. I finish scrubbing up and watch her walk over to the body we are examining today. From the looks of it under the sheet, he is a young man. My heart begins to pick up speed again, and I still try to calm it nonetheless. "His name's Elle Lawliet. Just got in a couple days ago, but nobody can tell what the cause of death was." With her gloved hands, Suzu-jo gently lifts the sheet from the man's face. "He's approximately twenty-two years old, five foot eight, and weighs one hundred and ten pounds." I stare at the man in front of me, and my head begins to whirl.
It's him.
It's the man from my dreams, there's no doubt about it! The filthy black hair that splayed in a thousand tiny strands over his cheeks, the eyes that seemed to go on forever, but were now apparently seeing nothing. How beautiful he was… it is all so terrible. It feels like my heart is stopping as I keep listening to Suzu-jo talk. "Poor kid. So young, too. It's peculiar. He was attacked, and then strangled. But…" She gestures to his neck, which is clean. My eyes widen. Where did the cord marks go? I distinctly saw someone strangle him, but now all evidence was gone? "No marks. Everything's clean, but he was strangled to death."
"Strange. You sure nothing's being covered up?" I mumble, trying to hide my shock. 'But…' I think to myself. 'I saw who strangled his… should I tell Suzu-jo? No, she'll just think I'm crazy. Which… maybe I am…' I listen to her talk some more, but then she points out something interesting. "And look at these bruises. The ones on his abdomen and face. They were almost healed just around the time he was killed. That doesn't make any sense. If someone were going to kill him, why would they come beat him up and then strangle him days later?"
I sigh, trying not to look over his face. "Maybe it wasn't the same person. Where did he live?" I know it would sound odd if I didn't ask that question, although I know full well the answer.
"Well, that's just it. We haven't been able to track down an address, so we think he might have been homeless." My heart lurches at the word. 'It's just too similar… why does it have to happen this way…?' I think, feeling a little dizzy. I try to stand on my own two feet, but I'm not sure if I can make it through the day anymore. "It's terrible, crimes like these. Just kill someone on the street, because they think no one will care."
"Yeah…" I put in, finally stepping up and looking over his face. The bruises that I saw in my dream are still there, but they look as fresh as if he had been hit right before I had seen him. But there are other bruises on his face—I begin to notice—that look like they're several days old. "I still think it was two different people." I say, looking back down at the bruises on his stomach. They are situated mostly in the middle, as if someone was trying to punch him there. "Was there any internal hemorrhaging?" I ask, just in case I am right.
"Oh. Yeah, that's right. One thing I forgot to say. Lots of internal hemorrhaging around his stomach, so if you're asking if someone tried to punch his there, I'd have to say you're right." I nod, blood still rushing to my head. I wish there was some way to end all this, just have the nightmares stop. But they won't stop.
It seems like they'll be true in no time if I keep along this path.
XxXxXxXIt seems like every time he falls asleep he must dream these things. Dreams of this man that never seem to go away. 'Who are you?' He feels like asking, but knows it will do no good, for he cannot answer back. He has auburn hair, cut short, and must not be more than twenty five or twenty six. He lives in Tokyo and works in a morgue as a coroner. He has an infatuation with his boss, Suzu-jo and also has a younger sister, Sayu whom he loves more than life itself.
He has seen everything.
Everything about him has passed through his eyes like some sort of movie clip, but he does not know why. From the time he was very young all the way until now. He saw how he ran away from his abusive father, and he saw how he built another life for he and his younger sister. He seems like a very courageous man, one that he would like to meet if he could ever know why he existed. Sometimes he wakes up and looks around, thinking that he will be there beside him. He seems so real, he can't help but wonder if he is or not.
His name is Light Yagami, and Elle Lawliet does not know why he keeps dreaming of him. He is nobody, nobody important, unlike him. Just a homeless boy running away from a life less remembered. He spends his time in alleys, not with people, like he does. He wants his life more than anything, just a chance to be loved. He sometimes wonders if he dreams of his, and if he does—why?
But Elle also knows he may never get his answer.
XxXxXxX"His name's Elle Lawliet." 'How do they know my name?' He thinks to himself as he watches a young woman lift the sheet over his body. How can that be him on the table, and him standing and watching, also? The thought makes his head spin, but he also feels terrible, being watched by people. "Just got in a couple days ago, but nobody can tell what the real cause of death was." 'Cause of death? That can't be true! I'm not dead! I'm still alive!' He tries to call out, but only succeeds in screaming inside of his mind. The woman wearing gloves and examining his body continues to talk, listing off things such as his height, weight and even age. The young man next to her sways on his feet, stumbling a little.
It takes his a few minutes to recognize him, but then it hits him. 'It's him! It's Raito! H-he exists? How can this be…?' Everything swirls about him, and the thought tugs in the back of his mind that he just might be dreaming again. Those crazy dreams have been getting worse and worse lately, but yet here he is—standing right in front of him! 'What should I do? I must be dreaming, I can't speak!' He raises his hands to his mouth and finds that it still works, but nothing will come out of it. He recovers himself and continues talking just like the other woman, and he can do nothing.
His body is aching to call out to him, to ask him who he is. The opportunity is so close he can almost taste it, but it's useless. Futile. Nothing good can come of it now, and all he has to do is wait. Wait for this horrendous dream to be over.
Just so he can return to his equally horrendous life.
XxXxXxXMy footsteps are the only things that keep me company these days as I walk home from the hospital by myself. The cold night air hits me directly, burying itself deeply in my bones. I just wish I could be home already; it's nearly past midnight. It kills me to know what's going to happen when I get home. I'll be so tired I won't be able to eat dinner or even anything—for that matter, and I'll go to sleep and dream of him.
Elle.
I've been trying to keep my mind off of him ever since I said my goodbyes to Suzu-jo and left the hospital, but he keeps popping up. Why am I dreaming about a dead man? Furthermore, a dead man who I didn't even knew existed until today! For the longest time, I had thought he was a figment of my imagination, stirred up by that near-death-experience I had just one year ago…
A disembodied voice clouds my already foggy brain as I struggle to open up my eyes. The one speaking is my sister, I can tell that much. I open them just a crack, and a blinding white light sets off an immediate throbbing headache within me. I shut them again as quick as I can, lifting my hands to cover my face. I don't know where I am—but it seems vaguely familiar. My throat is dry, I cannot talk, and as I soon discover, it hurts to breathe and swallow as well. There's a burning sensation in my lungs, but that's the least of my worries.
Forcing myself to open my eyes once more, I try to turn my head in the opposite direction of the light. I'm met with Sayu's tear-stained face as she stares at me from a chair in the corner of the room. "Oh… Sayu…" I manage to choke, just wanting more than anything to know what's going on and why I feel the way I do. She bounds out of the chair and over to my bedside, and now I can finally see where I am.
A hospital.
Why am I here, what's happened? I numbly feel her wrap her arms around me and envelope me in one of her too-tight hugs, dying to know why I can barely speak and why my throat feels like it's on fire. "He almost got you!" She sobs, and now I can feel her shaking. 'Who almost got me?' I ask myself, thinking I would sound crazy if I really asked her. "Raito, he almost killed you! He almost strangled you!"
Everything comes back to me in a large rush. The serial killer that had been on the loose in Tokyo for several weeks, he had come into our apartment. Our lives, and had tried to take the one thing that was holding Sayu together away from her—me. He tried to kill me, and if he succeeded, there was no doubt he was going to kill her—or worse—next. I lean my head back into the comforting pillow and allow her to hold me, whispering—for that is all I can do—that I'll be all right.
Apparently I had blacked out, and my body just couldn't start breathing again. Something scared the intruder away, and Sayu came to my rescue. If I hadn't have taught her CPR before then, I definitely would've died for real. But I had a NDE—a near death experience. They're common, but can leave someone with traumatizing after-effects on their psyche. A lot of skeptics out there say it's the mass hysteria of the event, but I've always believed otherwise.
Somehow in the back of my mind, I've always believed that my sanity is slowly slipping away from me. Especially since I have begun having those strange dreams. I've been fighting with myself to figure out what they mean, but I'm never the victor. Every day I get more and more aware of something in my mind that's pulling me back. Sometimes I wonder if it's from the NDE, but I always manage to convince myself otherwise. But then something happens that will make me think I was right all along.
A small sliver of moonlight illuminates an alleyway which I currently pass. Just out of curiosity, I turn my head to look inside and stop completely dead in my tracks.
Body splayed out across the narrow stretch of concrete, is a young man. He can't be more than twenty, with long black hair that looks as if it hasn't been washed in months. With pale skin that matches the moonlight flowing over his gaunt face, with breathing as labored as the wind howling this night. Something is carrying me toward him, just to get another glimpse of that face I saw just hours before lying broken on a cold steel table. As I get closer, I can tell that it used to round and full, used to be beautiful. His lips are chapped and cracked, and I can see the deep cut that mirrors my own. His eyes flicker back and forth beneath his eyelids as he sleeps; completely unaware of the man that has just found him. My eyes follow the pattern of pale blue veins traveling through his neck, down to his collarbone, and I stop where his shirt begins.
I'm itching to reach out and touch him, just to see if he is real or not. But I don't have to wait very long, because as soon as I take one step back, his eyes fly open with an intensity that frightens me. I draw in a quick breath and wait for him to scream, but he does not. He only stares at me—dumbfounded, and lifts his head up the most he can. He moves his mouth to form a word, and that word is my name. "Raito." He says, barely a whisper above the moaning wind. My heart begins to pound in my chest as I franticly ask myself how he could possibly know my name. "Help…" He says, and I almost believe it's the wind again for a moment, but I can't let myself abandon this boy.
Faster than I know what I'm doing or where this is going to leave me, he is in my arms and his arms are around me as well. It's almost like we've been waiting for each other, the two people that have never seen one another before in our entire life. I'm saying things I don't understand, not knowing why these things are escaping my lips. Things like "it's okay, I'm here now" and "you're going to be safe from now on." For God's sake, I don't even know him! He was dead just a few minutes ago, and yet here I am holding him! The only thing I can think to do is to get him to safety as fast and as efficiently as possible.
"Where have you been all my life…?" He chokes out as his head falls back, eyes looking up at the sky above. "I've been seeing you every night… are you real?" Soft fingertips ghost over my cheek, touching the bruise below my eye. They travel over my lips, feeling the cut that is so similar to his own. Limp, the fingertips fall from my face and he exhales a sigh of relief. "You're real… aren't you, Raito?"
My legs shake and I try to stand steady, for fear of dropping him. Should I tell him the same? What does he mean he's been seeing me every night? Does… does he dream about me too? It's all so confusing, and I'm fighting to keep my head from spinning out of control. I say the only thing I can think of at the moment. "Yes." I whisper back, not entirely sure why I cannot speak much at all. "Yes… I'm real." He somehow musters the strength to bury his head against my shoulder, and I lift him into my arms. One-hundred and ten pounds aren't a lot, so it's easy to carry him. I struggle to my feet over the confusion and my pounding heart, and I do the only thing that I can think to do in a situation like that.
I run.
I run fast and hard, the wind pounding against my face and someone's life hanging by threads in my hands. I have to help him—I have to get him back to my apartment, to safety. Anywhere other than the cold street that he had been occupying for the longest time. I want to heal him; I want to hear his story as much as I am sure he wants to hear mine. I am prepared to tell him everything; someone I have never met before in my entire life. But I want to meet him, want to know him and understand the bizarre connection we have between each other somehow.
I'm sure I'm getting some pretty strange looks from the people as I push past a crowded street, a full grown man in my arms. They try to call out to me, to ask if I need any help. I need all the help I can get—I'm sure of that much—but they can't offer it. If I told them my story, surely no one would believe it. A little voice in the back of my mind tells me even I shouldn't believe it, but it's hard not to with the evidence right in front of you.
Sooner than I realize, I'm standing outside the gate to the apartment complex. Should I try and climb it? No… no, that would never work. Should I wait for a car to come in? I look around desperately, and nothing catches my eye. Then a rumbling behind me makes my heart leap, and I turn around.
Suzu-jo's familiar car greets my stinging eyes as I see her confused face through the windshield. She raises her hands in the universal 'what are you doing?' gesture, and I run to her without thinking. Once she sees me move, she puts it in park and climbs out of the door. "What are you doing?!" She shouts, grabbing me by the shoulders. Her hands just miss the boy, and it's killing me to see that she doesn't react to the person in my arms. "What are you doing, Raito? Are you okay?!"
"No!" I shout back, tightening my grip around the boy. It's obvious he's unconscious by now, his head lolls back against my shoulder. My stomach churns as I think to myself that he might die if I don't get him some help soon. "He's going to die, I need to get his some help! I don't know what to do!" Suzu-jo stops shaking me immediately, taking a few steps back and letting her eyes trail back and forth over my frame.
"Raito… who's going to die?"
My jaw falls open. 'How could he not see him? He's right in my arms!' "Look, Suzu-jo, look! It's him! It's Elle Lawliet! I have him, right here! What's wrong with you?!" Suzu-jo looks back from me to her car, another time before taking a few tentative steps forward. "Don't just stand there all day, go in so I can get him some help! Go in, what are you doing?! You're just standing there—"
"Raito, there's no one there!" I stop. 'No one there? Wh-what… that's impossible, I can feel him… I'm holding him in my arms, I know it…' "You're not holding anyone, you know that… right?" She keeps walking toward me, hands outstretched. "Now, come on. Just get in the car… and I'll take you back to your apartment so you can rest, okay?" My heart is pounding so loud against my chest that I think people in the next street over can hear it by now. That hollow feeling begins in my stomach and spreads all the way to my throat, and I feel like I'm going to pass out.
"There is someone here, Suzu-jo! Why can't you see him! He was in the morgue just today!"
"Lawliet?" She asks, eyeing me warily like I might do something dangerous.
"Yes, Lawliet! Him!"
"Raito…" Suzu-jo says very slowly, looking around nervously again. "Light, Elle Lawliet is dead. We examined him today. He was strangled to death, remember? Someone did a good job of covering it up, be we found out. He was attacked shortly before his death, a few hours at the most. It's terrible, but Raito… you have to let this go. He's not alive anymore. Elle Lawliet is dead, understand?"
"No!" I scream at the top of my lungs, refusing to believe anything she says. Suzu-jo is wrong, I just know it. How can she be saying what she is when Elle is right here in my arms? Something is happening—she's been planning this from the very beginning. Those dreams are all part of something bigger, I just don't know what. "I know he was dead when we saw him, but he's not now!" I shout again, my voice cracking deep in my throat. "He's alive and he needs my help! He's been dreaming about me too! You don't know!" I take Elle by the shoulders and force him to look me in the eyes. To my surprise, he is fully awake, tears streaming down his cheeks. "Tell me your story! Where did you come from, how did you end up on that table?!" He opens his mouth to protest, but I won't let him. "Tell me, I need to know!"
"Why do you want to know?"
"Just tell me! You have to tell me, Elle!"
"I… growing up, I was neglected. My parents never paid any attention to me… and my father, he hated me most of all…" He strains, his voice seeming not to come from one central source, but from all around me, carried by the swirling wind. "…Every day I would get a beating. Every day he would come in to my room and whip me until I couldn't take it anymore. Sometimes twice a day, if he felt like I had been extra bad.
I had two younger brothers, and I couldn't let them suffer the same fate I would. I grew up weak; I never knew how to defend myself. But one day… I was… six-teen. I had had enough… I took my brothers… and I ran. I ran away, and I didn't know where I was going… but I made it. I found a job… and I found my brothers a home… and we were living together… we were all so happy, but so scared at the same time… we never knew if that day would be our last… if he would come and find us. But he never did…" He closes his eyes for a few seconds, but continues to speak. "Raito. Do you remember that serial killer that was on the rampage a year ago?" I nod vehemently, hoping and praying that Suzu-jo can hear every word this boy is saying. "My father wasn't the one that found us… but he was. He got to me first… tried to strangle me… I blacked out… and I don't remember what happened after that… but when I woke up… there were paramedics all around me… and one, I remember… was trying to revive me. When I got to the hospital, I found…" He squeezes his eyes shut and the tears roll faster down his dirty cheeks. "I found out that he killed my brothers! He strangled them both, just like he tried to strangle me!" He sobs, trembling violently. "They… they said I had a NDE. A—"
"Near death experience." I finish for him, my hands shaking as well.
"What?" Suzu-jo calls, hearing me say something. "What did you say?"
"Did you hear that?! Did you hear his?! The same as me! A near death experience! That's what brought us together, I know it is! Suzu-jo, you have to help me!"
"Raito… I didn't hear anything."
XxXxXxX"We're back on in five, four…" The director motions with his fingers the last three numbers, and then the music starts. There's a young, pretty girl with black hair and bangs swept neatly to the side sitting in a leather chair opposite a young blonde newscaster. She smiles and welcomes everyone back to the show. For the life of her, Suzu-jo can't remember the name of it. Everything has been such a blur. The interviews, the news articles, she's barely had any time to help Sayu make funeral arrangements.
"Welcome back everyone. For all our viewers who've just tuned in, let me recap a little bit. Suzu-san is a…a…" She fumbles, trying to find the right words.
"I'm a coroner." Suzu corrects her softly, and she smiles wider.
"Right. A coroner. But right now she's dedicated her life to studying the after effects of NDE's—or—Near Death Experiences. From what she's told me, they can have some pretty lasting effects, can't they?"
"Yes. A near death experience can destroy someone's psyche; they may never be the same. Some people say it connects to another world, maybe even the afterlife. But I'm not sure. It's all pretty confusing until you get the hang of it."
"Right, I understand. Now why don't you tell us a little bit about your friend? Raito Yagami, the young man that worked along side her. I'm so sorry for your loss, it must be terrible."
She sighs, prepared to tell her story for the hundredth time. "It is. Raito was a brilliant man, he had such real potential. I was working with him at the time that serial killer in Tokyo started roaming the streets. Raito was attacked, but he didn't die. He had a near death experience, and he was fine for a while…"
"For a while? What happened after that?"
"He started having these dreams. About a man named Elle Lawliet. He would talk about him endlessly, how he felt they were somehow connected. Then one day, he was brought into the morgue. He was strangled to death, and whoever did it was good at covering it up."
"Oh, that's just terrible. How old was he?"
"He must have only been about twenty, twenty-two at the most. Raito… seemed to accept the fact that he was dead at first, but… then I guess he just lost it."
"Lost it? I know this must be hard, but we're all a little confused. Why don't you explain?"
"After he left work that day, I decided to go back to his apartment to check on him. He seemed upset, and I wondered if he would make it back home safely. I saw him running up to the gate, and he was acting like he was holding something in his arms. I was scared… I didn't know what was wrong with him. It was crazy; he was saying all of these things. How he had finally figured out that he and Elle Lawliet were connected somehow by a near death experience he had, also. I tried to tell him he was dead, but he didn't listen." She pauses to wipe away a tear that is starting to fall down from her cheek.
"What a terrible thing to have to go through." Suzu nods, but still inside—she wants to continue to tell her story .
"Then he just collapsed. I tried everything. Nothing worked, and I finally called 911. By the time they got there… he was already dead. The cause of death is still undetermined, but I think…"
"What do you think happened, Suzu-san?"
"Near death experiences can make you lose your mind. That's all I think happened. How he dreamed up this boy, I'll never know. Maybe he pulled him from his subconscious somehow. Maybe he had seen him on the street."
"So all you think happened was that Raito just went insane?"
"That's all I know. That's all I want to know. Some things… should just be left alone, that's all I have to say. I don't want to meddle in his death, but help others. To go through what he went through… I can only imagine the pain he must have been in." She pauses and looks at the camera. "I may never understand, and I didn't understand moments before his death. But maybe that's what he wanted all along."
Xx Finis xX