Disclaimer: I do not own Loveless.
I wrote it few weeks ago, but I've forgotten to post it... Basically, I tend to emphasise that Nisei thinks his body to be "weak" and "sickly", so they are his reasons...
...
There are more things in Heaven and Earth
...
- Oye, Seimei, whatcha watching? – Nisei yawned, stretching on a settee.
Seimei sighed exasperatedly, it was the third time his fighter was asking this question.
- 'Hamlet'.
- It's sooo boring – Nisei made a face – Can't you get something more interesting? Funnier, perhaps? Without all that pompous talk?
- No Nisei, I need to watch it for school – Seimei said sternly, indicating that the fighter should shut up.
- Alright, so why am *I* watching it with you?
- Because I don't feel like letting you do anything else – Seimei cut the conversation, focusing on the screen.
However, Nisei couldn't be that easily put off the track.
- I'm thinking – he drawled, keenly observing how Seimei's cat ears twitched in irritation – If that's for your English class, shouldn't you be reading it instead?
Seimei hated when his idiotic fighter was right. So he was technically supposed to read the play, but he preferred a film as the language was a little bit simpler there.
- Stop thinking, your head my blow up – he snapped.
- Ohh, I hit the nerve – Nisei grinned and mentally congratulated himself.
- Shut up.
After about five minutes of silence, the fighter was at it again. He seemed to be set on making Seimei crack and punish him. If anyone asked Nisei, he was actually set on making Seimei kick him out from the sitting room and be spared the torture of watching the fat prince talking to himself.
- Seimei, how does it end? – he murmured from behind a tissue. He had probably caught a cold, judging by how his entire body ached.
- With four deaths – he replied, without even sparing Nisei a glance.
- Wow, really? It may be fun, how long until it ends? – the fighter bounced on his seat and then winced when his spine began to ache more.
It was unbelievable how that psycho could simplify the sophisticated drama that was 'Hamlet'.
Seimei stopped the video dismayed.
- Hey, what have you done? I was getting in the mood! – Nisei actually felt offended.
- We're going out – he needed to clear his mind, the plot was beginning to unnerve him, for a reason unknown.
- I'd rather stay – Nisei's voice grew small. It was one thing to rile Seimei up and entirely another to openly disagree with him.
As expected, Seimei's eyes narrowed.
- I don't care. We're going out.
- But... – it was so cold outside, he'd already experienced it on his own skin when Seimei had ordered him to wait outside a shop for more than an hour. He hadn't been wearing warm clothes, because the morning had been warm and his sacrifice had 'borrowed' his scarf and beret.
Seimei advanced and Nisei quickly jumped to his feet, rushing to the corridor.
- That's much better – Seimei noted when he emerged from the sitting room and found his fighter standing by the front door with his coat on – Though I haven't realised another ice age has come – he smirked, eyeing Nisei with amusement. Woollen scarf and hat as well as thick gloves and boots weren't really necessary.
Nisei made some indignant huff. He looked like a sulking snowman.
Just to spite him, Seimei decided to take the longest route possible and rejected the idea to catch a bus or the underground. He went as far as visiting three parks only to see that miserable face of his fighter when his breath was coming out in white mist. He agreed to return to Nisei's flat only when his nose began to be cold, but at the same time Nisei's teeth were clattering madly.
- I'm taking a bath first – he informed the freezing fighter and disappeared in the bathroom.
When he was finished some more than forty five minutes later, Nisei was asleep on the settee. Seimei was heading out to 'his' room when something caught his attention. Nisei's lips were grey.
Alarmed, he came closer and noticed how his fighter's skin was sickly pale and his breath irregular. He wouldn't feel the slightest worry if it was Soubi, but Nisei stroke him as strangely fragile.
- Nisei – he called out sternly – You can use the bathroom now.
No response.
- Get up, I'm not buying it – he rolled his eyes.
Nothing.
Seimei forced himself to check the fighter's temperature.
- Fuck – he exclaimed. Nisei's forehead was burning.
He quickly grabbed a thin wrist to find the pulse. He barely managed to, the heart beats were so weak. He remembered Ritsuka being in similar condition when he was nine, but even then his little brother was conscious while the fighter remained unresponsive.
How do you ask an unconscious person where he keeps medicines?
Seimei dashed into the kitchen, opened all the cabinets and came back empty handed. Nisei still looked like a corpse, if not worse than before.
- Nisei – he tried once again, gently stroking a small palm – Come on, open your eyes.
When Nisei began coughing spasmodically without waking up Seimei was officially panicked. The lithe boy was obviously in a horrible state.
Before his mind could grasp what he was doing, Seimei was already calling an ambulance.
...
He found himself sitting in a hospital corridor in front of the room where a doctor had been taking care of Nisei since they had arrived. He couldn't remember being so scared ever before. Something was dreadfully wrong, it doesn't take this long to diagnose a flu, right? Maybe he should have agreed to take a bus...
Finally, the door opened and a middle aged man appeared.
- Are you the one who came with the patient?
- Yes, yes, I am – did his voice truly falter?
- Good. I need some information...
- Aoyagi Seimei.
- Aoyagi-kun – the man smiled encouragingly and Seimei didn't even try to correct him.
- How's Nisei? – he was afraid to find out.
- Stable – came a neutral reply.
Seimei fought the urge to laugh hysterically. Stable? What kind of answer was it? Besides, it was wrong on so many levels to call Nisei 'stable'.
- Has he regained consciousness? – he chose to ask instead.
- Yes, he has – could the doctor be a little more helpful? Seimei calmed down enough to be his usual self again.
- Yes, he barely has, or yes, he is quite alright or no, but I don't want to deal with a worried teenager?
The doctor blinked.
- Yes, he's going to be alright.
- He'd better – he was entirely sure who he was threatening: the doctor, Nisei or himself.
- Could you provide some personal information about your friend?
That was going to be rich.
- Sure.
The doctor took some papers out of a pocket of his gown.
- His name?
- Akame Nisei – Seimei provided.
- Age?
- Seventeen – 'and now it's going to get complicated'.
- Names of his parents?
How could he know?
- Some way to contact them? Any relatives?
- Sorry, we're not that close – Seimei decided against lying.
- Quite alright – the man smiled – Do you know about any health problems he may have?
Does chronic idiocy counts?
- He's never mentioned any – Seimei said cautiously.
- He's very thin – noted the doctor.
- He hasn't got anorexia – Seimei sounded annoyed – Maybe anaemia, but I highly doubt it, he eats a healthy diet.
- Drugs?
Seimei gave the man a hard look that would make most of fighting units in the country run away with tails between their legs. However, the doctor was blissfully unaware what angry Aoyagi meant.
- Never – he could see the man's point, Nisei did look like a junkie material, but in his madness he understood that drugs would only completely shatter his mind.
- Cutting himself?
What was this guy's problem? Nisei was clearly down with some nasty flu, not being reanimated after severe blood lost.
- He's not a would-be suicide – Seimei snapped, it was actually worse than trying to reason with his fighter.
- Does he take any anti-depressants?
Seimei felt a headache of the size of Russia coming his way.
- Listen, sensei, he does like to wear dark colours and was unfortunate to inherit a pale complexion, but he's not the kind of person to sit with a knife, carving patterns on his own body – he stressed the entire sentence.
- No disorders then?
- Not at all – a big smile.
- We're going to check it. Sometimes depression or other illnesses are difficult to recognise.
Seimei shrugged, he didn't believe the man would just trust his opinion.
- Thank you for your time – the man bowed slightly – I'm going to take a sample of his blood.
Seimei's ears straightened up to full attention. This man could get a literally bloody surprise approaching a half-conscious Nisei with a needle.
- Ehm... – he started, putting an innocent expression – He's so afraid of injections, do you think I could assist you?
- Well, I guess – the man eyed the teenager – If he agrees, that is.
- Of course.
The first thing Seimei spotted was a big bed on which Nisei was laying. Truth to be told, the bed was a normal size, but the small fighter reminded his sacrifice of a porcelain doll on it. He could understand the doctor's suspicions now.
- Hello Nisei – he greeted his fighter in a happy, yet strong voice.
- Seimei – Nisei's eyes focused on the younger boy – Where am I? What happened?
- In a hospital, you fainted quite spectacularly on the settee.
- I can see I made Seimei worry – the bastard had a nerve to *grin* - Did you save me, my valiant knight?
Seimei wanted to tell him to smack the idiot with all his heart, only it wouldn't be a reasonable course of action with the doctor present.
- You don't make a good damsel in distress – he smirked instead – Grey lips are hardly kissable.
- But they are all rosy and pouty know – Nisei winked.
Before Seimei could shot some sarcastic retort, the doctor cleared his throat.
- Excuse me, but I need to do my job – he shifted uncomfortably.
- It reminds me – Seimei gave Nisei a hard look – That nice doctor over there has to take a sample of your blood – now the easy part ended.
- I don't want him too.
- It's necessary.
- Necessary my ass! – Nisei crossed his arms – I'm not letting him anywhere near me with a syringe.
- Akame-kun, be reasonable – the man came closer.
Nisei showed him a 'fuck you' and put a quilt over his head, causing the doctor to sigh in frustration.
- Nisei – Seimei's tone held a warning, only it went unheeded – Nisei.
- It hurts! – came a pitiful whine – A sharp pointy needle to my poor arm, it's gonna be sooo painful, I hate pain, it makes my head all dizzy.
Why was his fighter always insisting on being so difficult? His behaviour went against everything Seimei had told the doctor about his 'friend's' mental stability and the glare he was receiving from the man affirmed this thesis.
- Nisei, stop those antics – he tried to pry the quilt off the fighter's head, which resulted in both of them pulling it in opposite directions.
The doctor began to intervene, when Seimei snapped.
- You idiot, *let go*.
The fighter obediently did just that, sending Seimei crashing to the floor.
- Could you please be still for a moment? – the man tried to regain some control over the situation.
- No.
- Nisei! Let him take that fucking sample – Seimei was furious.
- No.
- It's not going to hurt – persuaded the doctor.
- No.
Seimei felt like banging somebody's head on the wall: his own, the doctor's or preferably Nisei's.
- Listen, Akame-kun – the man sat on the bed, speaking soothingly – I'm going to give you a special band aid that is going to neutralise all the discomfort and then I'll bring you a candy.
Nisei looked at him suspiciously.
- It won't hurt? – he made sure in a childlike voice.
- You won't even feel a pang – the man reassured with a gentle smile.
- And the candy will be a strawberry flavoured? – the fighter asked in a small tone – I don't like mints, they make my tongue feel all stingy...
- No mints. Just let me go get an aid – he headed to the door, pinning Seimei with an icy glare.
Nisei, however, sent him a sly grin.
How could the bastard be doing it to his own sacrifice?
The moment the door closed after the doctor, Seimei was at Nisei's side, shaking with silent fury.
- You're stopping this *right now* - his eyes narrowed – Or you're going to be in a dire need of much more serious medical attention soon.
- But Seimei, you always tell to be nice around strangers – Nisei grinned in that cunning way again.
- Do you want to land us into more trouble than you've ever managed before? – he sneered icily – Keep that up and you're going to end up in a mental ward.
- And you in a borstal.
- Quit. This. Act. – Seimei smacked his fighter on the back of his head, but lightly.
- I never get to play – Nisei pouted.
- Play with our enemies' minds, not the doctor's, you idiot.
The doctor returned, eyeing the room suspiciously.
- Is everything well?
- Yep – nodded Nisei happily – Pass the aid, sensei.
The man still kept a close eye on Seimei, but bent down to place the aid on the inner side of Nisei's elbow.
- Now we need to wait few minutes for it to start to work. We'll use that time to talk.
Nisei felt his sacrifice's freezing stare on his back and actually decided to obey. It would be unbearable to be separated from Seimei.
- Ok. What are we going to talk about? – he propped himself on a pillow.
- Your hobbies perhaps?
Say 'maiming and torturing' and you'll be the one experiencing them – Seimei gritted his teeth.
- Alright – he had to give it to Nisei, he put some effort into giving an expression of a completely sane person – I like reading books and computers.
- That's interesting. What computer games do you like?
- None – Nisei shrugged – They're boring, so repetitive. I prefer programming or working in the Photoshop.
- Do you like taking photos then? – the man smiled.
- I don't love it but it's passable. I'd rather work on those taken by somebody else.
- What to you like to read?
- Scientific or tourist magazines as well as some novels from time to time.
- What's your favourite book?
- I don't have one. I've enjoyed 'Silmarillion' by Tolkien or 'Gone with the wind' by Mitchell as well as Agatha Christie and Shakespeare.
Wow, when you lie it's on a full scale.
- Do you like war films?
- As long as they're comedies.
- Dramas?
- Nah, too sad and they never end well.
- Fantasy?
- Depends on the plot and the fantasy realm.
- Maybe historical dramas or programmes?
- Sure, they're great – Nisei smiled and a spark lit his eyes. Seimei wondered when Nisei'd become such an actor – Especially those about the Antiquity, like biographies of Caesar, Alexander of Macedon or Attila. If they're professionally done, they can be great studies of human characters while still having some breathtaking battle scenes – the doctor's face said quite clearly that the names didn't ring any bell for him and Seimei had to actually hide his own interest.
- What do you think about battle scenes?
Nisei didn't show the slightest excitement.
- They're usually necessary in some films, like, how can you demonstrate Alexander's genius without Gaugamela? But they need to be precisely reconstructed, otherwise it's just blood spilling around without much sense. They can be pretty impressive too, just like in 'The Lord of the Rings', they make you envy the supposed leaders abilities.
- So, do you like ghoulish scenes then? – that was the question Seimei's been dreading.
Nisei laughed, but fortunately, it wasn't his maniacal laugh.
- Sensei, I'm no Hannibal Lecter, I'd pass that kind of entertainment. Besides, I've said I like people like Caesar, not Nero or Caligula. I'd rather see a cavalry attack than somebody's eyes being plucked out.
Seimei sighed in relief.
- Hasn't it begun to work yet? – Nisei moved his arm pointedly.
- Oh yes, I think so. Would you like to hold something? I can ask a nurse to assist...
- I may be afraid of injections, but I'm not a child – Nisei rolled his dark eyes – I'm not going to bolt.
However, Seimei could see the tension in his fighter's body and, deciding to be better safe than sorry, he crouched next to the bed, taking a small hand into his bigger ones.
- I'm going to make sure you'll stay put – he informed.
To Nisei, it was wonderful. His beloved sacrifice was holding his hand, not caring about germs or viruses, looking softly at him with those beautiful, purple pupils. He could feel warmth spreading through his entire body from the name on his hand. He wondered if Seimei was experiencing the same.
He was. And he'd never thought it could be so pleasant to let the bond become physical. He was surprised the doctor didn't notice a coppery thread connecting him with Nisei, not a crass chain Soubi was sporting, but a beautiful cord, delicate yet impossible to break. It went from his chest, down his left arm, hang in the air to weave itself up Nisei's right hand, disappearing somewhere near his heart. It was unusual, normally the bonds ended on the names or hands, sometimes necks in fighter's cases, but never in chests. He could feel Nisei's emotions from the thread, his anguish at having his blood taken, his delight at Seimei's touch. He could feel warmth from the dark aura that surrounded the fighter enveloping him, caressing and protecting from the world.
He was shocked to find out that he was aroused.
Nisei, on the other hand, felt his master's desire for him and it made him deliriously happy, because, no matter how much Seimei protested, he craved his fighter. It was exhilarating to hope for having his love returned if only on a purely physical level. He also felt Seimei's strength, his calmness bringing peace to his agitated mind, making him *whole*. Blending them into one being.
- All done – the doctor's voice sounded like from the different world.
Nisei desperately wanted to prolong that blissful moment of tranquillity, but he knew they couldn't keep on holding their hands like this. Much too soon, Seimei took back his hand.
- We may actually repeat it if you behave – he heard the sweet baritone of his master near his ear. He barely surpassed a moan.
Seimei shocked himself with this promise, but it wouldn't earn him any respect if he were to suddenly change his mind. And, secretly, he was wondering how it would feel to have a full bond established, to caress the tender hand a little bit longer. It caused a strange heat soak his entire body.
His musings, however, were abruptly interrupted by a nurse strolling into the room.
- Nagata-sensei – she handed the doctor a greyish envelope – The x-rays of the patient, along with Watanabe-sensei's commentary.
- Thank you – the doctor smiled and the nurse went out.
Seimei felt an extreme agitation from Nisei's side of the bond and noticed him stiffen. Something was definitely wrong and it didn't bode well that he was left out of it.
Nagata-sensei frowned deeply reading the remarks, which unnerved Seimei even more. Just what exactly was he missing there? Nisei seemed to have got a lot better, probably due to him being a fighter, so what could the sinister envelope contain?
- I'm positive – the doctor began in a low voice – That we need to have a conversation, Akame-kun.
Nisei's face was showing quite clearly he wasn't in the mood to talk about anything, lips pressed in a tight line, hard eyes observing the man from under black bangs. He looked to be more ready to attack than negotiate and Seimei felt obliged to save Nagata-sensei, more out of curiosity about what could have caused such an extreme reaction in Nisei rather than out of his good heart.
- Is something wrong, sensei? – his tone suggested he demanded rather than asked.
Unfortunately, the doctor didn't even blink.
- It's private – he stressed – Such things shouldn't be discussed with a stranger.
- I'm no stranger.
- Neither you're a relative – the man's opinion was final.
However...
- Nisei – Seimei turned to his fighter and gave him a stern look – I *want* to stay and hear it.
Inside, Nisei grew frantic. Seimei couldn't know, couldn't, couldn't... Seimei'd be angry if he was to leave, but furious if he was to stay... The choice seemed easy, but Seimei *wanted*. Seimei should always have his way, he was his Sacrifice... And his touch was so gentle some moments ago...
- It's alright – his voice wavered a little – He can stay.
- Akame-kun...
- Seimei stays – Nisei showed his sharp canines, a common unconscious action for him, normally followed by an attack.
The doctor probably understood the threat on some level, because he sighed and agreed.
- Akame-kun, I have taken some x-rays while you were still unconscious – he began an explanation – Your state appeared to be serious, so I needed to know what's happening inside of you, do you understand?
- Last time I've checked I spoke Japanese – Nisei sneered, his demeanour suddenly dark.
- Good – the man remained unmoved – While I was treating you, my fellow doctor analyzed the pictures.
Seimei quickly sat down on the bed to prevent Nisei from moving as he was aware how the fighter was beginning to assume a predatory pose more and more.
- The news isn't happy. It turns out your lungs have only about 60-65% capacity.
Nisei stiffened and Seimei had to actually prop himself with a hand. For few unbearably long seconds none spoke. Seimei's mind was reeling, an endless circle of 'what?', 'why?' and 'how?'.
- That is a very serious condition, Akame-kun – the doctor continued softly.
Nisei barked out a laugh.
- Of course I'd know that – he spat – They're my lungs.
That sobered Seimei up. Wait, Nisei had known?
- We need to do a lot of tests and research to find the cause – said Nagata-sensei – It may turn out lethal.
Nisei's face darkened.
- Right, sensei, truth to be told I smell death in the air – Seimei understood what he meant too clearly – Such a sweet aroma.
- When will the cause be discovered? – Seimei chose that moment to intervene. The news definitely caught him off guard and he even went as far as to childishly grab Nisei's hand, as if to make sure he's still alive.
- Well – the man massaged his neck – It may take days or weeks, it all depends. And I can't guarantee his state won't aggravate. Lungs illnesses remain ones of the most dangerous, despite the medical developments.
Seimei looked at the pale face of his fighter. How easy it was to imagine the eyes closed, the lips grey in an eternal dream. He grabbed the hand strongly, moisture clouding his vision. When had he come to care about the nuisance so much? Was it the bond? The name?
He felt thin arms wrapping themselves around his bigger frame, cradling him to a narrow chest.
- How dare you make Seimei sad? – he heard Nisei's angry voice. It made him feel even worse that the fighter still thought only about him. Surprisingly, the embrace become stronger, with power radiating from Nisei's body. It was unbelievable this person was anywhere near his death – How stupid of you.
- It's the truth, Akame-kun, I'm so sorry. We'll try to find a remedy – the man's tone was one of the doctor informing his patient of incurable illness.
- Listen, you big-headed fool – Nisei spat with venom – What are you, a herald of doom? Unfortunately for the world, I'm not planning on dying anytime soon.
- I know, Akame-kun, but please listen...
- No. *You* listen, before I decide you're not worth my time. People bore me so easily, even though they make great toys – Nisei grinned, but his speech was interrupted by Seimei's hand clutching his hospital gown. He quickly began to caress his master's hair, he shouldn't be crying because of him. Seimei shouldn't be crying at all. Yell, hit, laugh, tease – yes, but never cry.
- Shh... Seimei? – he tried to gently tilt his sacrifice's head up – Please, stop crying.
As expected, it worked well.
- I'm not crying – Seimei hotly denied, rubbing his eyes.
- Suuure – Nisei drawled – Your eyes are sweating – he winked.
- Idiot. You're ill.
- I've heard I'm sick – Nisei smirked – But 'ill' is all new for me.
- Akame-kun...
- Akame.
The doctor sighed in frustration.
- Akame. Please start acting reasonable. Your condition is quite serious, no matter how hard you're trying to deny it to yourself. Facing the truth is the beginning of recovery.
- I won't recover – stated Nisei plainly.
- Nisei!
- Akame, that kind of attitude reduces the chances of...
- No, no, no – Nisei shook his head – You both don't get me. As usual, by the way. I'm not falling into pits of despair, I'm stating the facts. My lungs have been like that for the last eleven years or so.
Nagata-sensei and Seimei stared at him dumbly.
- Alright, here it comes, the story of my life – he rolled his eyes – I had a tuberculosis when I was seven, the treatment lasted for over a year, for I used to be a sickly child. As a doctor you should be well aware of devastation it causes to one's lungs – he smiled cutely at the doctor – Miraculously, I recovered and my state has never worsened since.
- If what you're saying is accurate, you should be under a strict medical supervision.
Nisei gave a fake laugh.
- Oh come on, you'd like to lock me in a hospital? I'm stronger than I look – Seimei had to nod to that. It seemed the doctor remained under a similar illusion like most of the units they'd fought – Besides, I don't take being caged well.
- Still...
- How tiresome – Nisei wrinkled his nose – I do a check up once in six months, my pulmonologist claims it's enough, given my efficient immunology system.
- Nisei – Seimei found his voice – You've known all along and haven't said a word? – the question was icily cold in its indifference.
The 'adult' shifted uncomfortably. Seimei was going to punish him or... Discard an ill fighter.
- Mmm.
- What kind of answer is that? You've known and still...
- Perdoname – Nisei ducked his head, gently nuzzling himself into Seimei's arm – It doesn't affect my performance and it won't in the future. Please, I can be useful, don't worry, I won't fail... I'm sorry...
- Quit it, idiot – Seimei pushed him away, but it was half-hearted – Don't be silly – his voice hardened – I meant, you've known and you still smoke?
Nisei envisioned several probable queries, but not that.
- You mustn't smoke in your condition – the doctor sounded astonished.
- Are you really that foolish? – Seimei narrowed his eyes.
Nisei felt his cheeks flaring.
- Get off me, you two! – he stuttered – I'm no addict, you make it seem as if I was smoking non-stop, Seimei! I do not. Only from time to time – 'when I'm anxious or when my mind has a bad day and refuses to cooperate', he mentally added.
- Well, you most certainly mustn't do it.
- Don't worry – Seimei smiled – He'll quit sooner than he thinks.
- Meanie – Nisei showed Seimei his tongue.
- I realise it's not easy – Nagata-sensei sounded sympathetic – I can advise a good psychologist.
- I'm quitting smoking, not overcoming an emotional crisis – Nisei huffed – Anyway, I don't like smoking, it stinks and I never remember to buy cigarettes or end up breaking a lighter, so I'm actually a lousy smoker – he batted his eyelashes cutely.
Seimei shook his head in a mute resignation. Why him, from all the people had to bear that idiot for his entire life? For what sins?
- Seimeeei – Nisei pouted – I'm bored, can we go home now?
...
- Oye, Seimei, whatcha doing? – Nisei was laying on the settee, legs propped on a coffee table, a lollipop in his mouth. Since they'd come back from the hospital (not without some difficulties, namely Nagata-sensei refusing to release Nisei until he got all check-ups done and Nisei vehemently disagreeing – they both ended up tending to Seimei's headache) two days ago, Nisei had been 'quitting smoking' which in his case was just yet another excuse to chuck tons of sweets.
Seimei was too exhausted to be angry.
- Reading.
- Oooh, interesting – Nisei stretched, accidentally kicking a cup from the table.
'That makes four from that set left' – Seimei noted.
- Whatcha reading?
- 'Hamlet'.
- I've told you, you need to read books rather that watch film adaptations – Nisei clapped his hands, pleased with himself.
- I have to learn some fragments of it by heart – Seimei didn't like that particular part of his English homework.
- Mmm... – the fighter popped the lollipop out of his mouth and began to examine it closely – Why's that one half of a chupa is always smaller than the other? You suck on both of them at the same time.
Seimei sent him a freezing look.
- I see, Seimei doesn't want to discuss sweets. Tell me more about that 'Hamlet', then.
In fact, the sacrifice had been desperate for some sort of distraction, the plot getting slowly to him.
- It's great, one of the best studies of a human psychology ever done.
- Say what you've been learning – Nisei smiled, clearly interested.
Seimei couldn't really lose his face and admit he hadn't achieved much in the matter of 'Hamlet' yet.
- For example, 'Something is rotten in the state of Denmark'.
- A fish, maybe? – Nisei chuckled.
- It means something wrong will happen and you feel it coming – Seimei explained.
- Aaaa...
- Idiot. Then...
- Do you have something about killing?
- No – Seimei wrinkled his nose in disgust – But there is another – the sacrifice continued, despite Nisei's fascination obviously evaporating – 'There are more things in heaven and earth, than are dreamt of in their philosophy' – he grimaced, noticing Nisei had returned to playing with the lollipop. He was ready to smack him, when...
- Your – Nisei said casually, rolling the sweet on his tongue.
- What now? – Seimei huffed.
- It's 'your', not 'their'. Maybe you have an older version with the word 'thy', though I don't believe Shakespeare wrote 'thy', but some editors in the past used to change it. Anyway, 'their' wouldn't make much sense, would it?
Seimei frowned. How on Earth would Nisei know anything about 'Hamlet'?
- It would be meaningless, saying 'their philosophy'. Whose would it be then? Hamlet and Horatio attended the same university, so they both studied the classics in a similar way, so it would be obvious to say 'their philosophy' about, for example, uneducated guards who believed in folk superstitions – Nisei took the lollipop out and were now tracing some patterns with it in the air – While saying 'your philosophy', Hamlet distances himself from his best friend, one he used to share his ideas and dreams with. He puts a barrier between them. Since then, it is Hamlet and his father's ghost against the rest of the world. He is no longer a part of the normal society with its norms and ways. He's gained a different kind of knowledge that isolates him. Till the end, no one will be able to understand him, because everyone sickens him, for he's chosen to see the world as full of sin and corruption. To him, that new philosophy makes him both better and worse than the court and he'll never be able to become a part of it again. It takes away his control, pushes him in a direction he's never wanted.
- Hamlet only acts as a madman, he is sane – Seimei decided to wonder about Nisei's baffling knowledge later, when he'd be alone.
- Is he? I don't think so. Sure, he *believes* he's sane, like every other lunatic. His problem is, his madness is actually very comfortable. His inappropriate actions gain people's understanding and pity as well as he can lie to himself that his fate is out of his hands. Ophelia killed herself? How sad, but I *had* to be this way, it's that incomprehensible force of a justified revenge that makes me do all these things. Hamlet's too weak to logic or realise there isn't a right solution. A sane person would rationalise, would try to protect the people he loved rather than harm them. Would never trust a ghost's words. He is both sane and insane for me.
- Is it possible? – Seimei arched a brow.
- Probably. He regards some things coolly, but others remain out of his grasp.
- Maybe it's fate?
- There is no such thing as fate. It wasn't Hamlet's fate to ruin his country and kill his family, his actions led to that – Nisei stood up – I need to use the bathroom.
When the fighter disappeared, Seimei leaned back in his armchair and sighed. Had it all meant Nisei knew 'Hamlet'? Read it, wondered about it? When? How was it possible? He most certainly had, for he was well-informed and had some strong opinions, just like his English teacher. He would never cease to surprise him.
He heard water running. Apparently Nisei had decided to take a batch, so the bathroom would be occupied for more than a hour. Seimei needed to head home soon, he'd promised his mother he'd be away only for the 'long' weekend. Still, he had some time left.
After a short battle with himself, he got up and headed towards Nisei's bedroom. It occupied the room at the end of the corridor, next to the bathroom. Nisei's flat was huge and only innate disdain prevented Seimei from ever calling it a suite or admitting he was primitively jealous that the fighter could afford it, while he himself dwelled in a room of a size of Akame's toilette.
He'd never visited the bedroom before, claiming he hadn't wanted to catch anything that Nisei could have contaminated it with. Truth to be told, and Seimei wasn't one to lie to himself, he was simply petrified that it may hold something that would testify to Nisei's humanity.
He had no problems with cutting classes at Soubi's, his flat was bare and spoke nothing about the owner. In his opinion, it was a perfect dwelling for a fighter, that is – an animal. However, he had already discovered, not without some distress, several signs that belied that theory in Nisei's case.
When he had claimed him his fighter and demanded to be taken to Nisei's flat, he had fully expected some dark hole in a back alley, certainly not a spacious condo in Roppongi, furnished with much more style and taste that the ones presented in fashion magazines. He hadn't anticipated light, modern décor was to Nisei's liking.
And Nisei surely did have a lot of likings. They tended to sway in the most extravagant and luxurious direction of the latest designers' collections, technological novelties and the most fashionable clubs all over Tokyo. Seimei had managed to convince himself that Nisei was one of those narrow-minded teenagers who had more money than ideas how to spend it and it would be very easy to stick to that if only Nisei stopped popping up with comments like that about 'Hamlet' completely out of blue.
So to decide once and for all, Seimei had to go inside Nisei's bedroom, his sanctuary, to find out. The flat could be a cover, something to show off and deceive potential visitors, but the bedroom would most definitely reflect on Nisei's personality which wasn't all that nice.
He opened the door and turned the light on with his eyes shut. He then counted to ten and opened them, wondering if he was right once again. He took a step forwards, only to trip on something, sending it to the floor with a loud crash.
- Shit – he cursed, spotting a white laptop now laying on a fluffy carpet. He quickly picked it up and placed it on a low table. Then, he looked around.
Okay, he officially hated being wrong.
He was standing on polished light grey tiles that reflected the discreet light from small lamps placed randomly around the room. Some of them were on the ceiling, but four or so were standing near the bed or on the desk. Those lamps were colourful and rather funny. There were three different fluffy carpets on the floor, an orange, a violet and a charcoal one. The walls were painted bright orange-red and turquoise with several pictures on them. There were some black and white photos of city sights – Seimei recognised London, Barcelona, Rome, Paris, Tokyo and New York – and of people he thought were some pop-culture idols, but he didn't know their names. Nisei'd desk occupied about one-sixth of the room, but was still cluttered with papers, clothes and mugs. Seimei came closer and smiled noticing a neon-yellow sheet of paper taped to the wall, with Nisei's flowing scribbling saying: 'Seimei – Monday, 2 p.m.', 'Finally write an essay for the IT', 'Defensive spells for the brat', 'Sales at Wang on 12.09', 'The LIBRARY', 'Mechanic – 13.09, 3 p.m.'. Then, his attention was caught by a modern looking shelf on the left, filled with books. Intrigued, he came to examine it closer. He frowned, tracing the covers with his finger.
The titles were mostly English or Spanish and he immediately spotted Shakespeare and few encyclopaedias, as well as some Russian titles. Why would Nisei stuff his stylish bedroom with books like 'Iliad' or 'The Name of the Rose' was beyond him. He couldn't read them, could he? The same went for a huge tome of something called 'De Vita Caesarum' and 'The Lord of the Rings'.
Seimei frowned even deeper realising how many books there were, varying from world's classics to biographies. A great part consisted of historical works covering the European Antiquity. He did remember Nisei mentioning figures like Caesar or Hannibal before, but he assumed the fighter had just heard the names somewhere.
- It's impolite to invade somebody's bedroom, you know? – came a huff from the door. Seimei turned around and found Nisei, clad in a black towel, combing a hand through his damp hair.
- I'm your sacrifice – Seimei reminded him sternly, observing Nisei eyeing the laptop.
- Fuck you – nothing surprising here – Do you know what you are?
Seimei only arched an eyebrow.
- You're a fucking pest! – Nisei picked the laptop up – This one has managed to survive me for three months now and you've most certainly broken it! Couldn't you have found something cheaper to destroy? The Molière over there, for example?
- Quit it – Seimei commanded – Buy a new one.
- I've become attached to it – Nisei cradled the laptop to his chest and pouted – It deserved a better end.
Seimei laughed at the fighter's childish expression.
- I bet it'll work, it landed on the carpet.
- It'd better! – Nisei showed him his tongue – Help yourself to a novel if you're interested – he added, apparently aware of Seimei's interrupted activities – And I've been thinking about Hamlet in the bathroom – he made it sound so shallow.
- So have been I. You and Hamlet are very alike.
- What? – Nisei furrowed his dark eyebrows, turning towards the door – Nonsense! I now believe Hamlet wasn't mad at all. He only acted like that to be able to cope with the world he didn't understand. Maybe he had some problems with perceiving things, but the whole 'insanity' was an act – he disappeared in the corridor, mumbling about the prince.
- Oh yes – Seimei nodded to himself – That's why I think you are alike.
...