Oh, and, this was spur-of-the-moment five-minute fic. Just to let you know if it sucks.
I need get to Kouji…The boy raced as fast as his feet could go down the stairs of the subway station. He had missed that damn elevator. If it had been left open for just a few more seconds, he could have followed the boy who leaped into the chamber where Kouji Minamoto stood calmly, taunting him with the appearance that he was waiting for him to catch up... That bakana. But if Kouji would have allowed it he could've talked to his brother about that one matter that he himself didn't understand fully. They could figure it out together. They could find out why their father lied, why their mother lied. They could find it out as brothers…
I must follow him wherever he goes.
He had to talk to Kouji no matter what. Nothing living, or non, was going to stop him.
He was nearly to the bottom floor. If he went fast enough he could meet up with Kouji as he got on the next train. He could make it if he went traveled at a swifter run than he was at now. Taking leaps down the stairs and corridors, he quickly picked up the pace.
He has to talk with me.
His heart was pumping in his throat. His blood pulsated through his body at a great rate. He needed to catch Kouji. This was the race that would change their relationship forever… Why did Kouji have to always be ahead? I need to… I have to…
Leap. Breath. Turn. Keep running. Leap…
And then one life-changing thing happened.
Kouichi Kimura tripped.
Right at the top of the last flight of stairs.
In slow motion, he flew over the staircase, the tiles below him in a startling clarity. It took him a moment to notice, but when he did, a wave of horrid shock struck the very center his swiftly beating heart. No one was near enough to catch him. He was going to hit that unbreakable floor, and he was going to hit it hard.
And he did, muttering one word to the bystanders that crowded around, though they didn't understand in the slightest what it meant.
"Kou… Kouji…"
---
His eyes bolted open in surprise, only to find that his head erupted in pain. He groaned and fell over onto the ground. Black was the only thing he saw, and cold like nothing he had felt before was what smothered his body. The frozen air wafted itself through his clothes, quickly turning him numb with the freezing cold. He shivered and pulled himself into a tight ball, trying to make the vest that covered a little less than half of him larger. The violet-black orbs of his eyes peeked out from beneath the mass black hair. Where was he?
The feeling that he was in something moving quickly made him even more curious about where he was. He sat up slowly, cringing as the dull thud of pain in his head filled with a stinging fire. Placing his fingers to his forehead, he unsteadily lifted himself to his feet. He was nearly overcome with the wave of nausea that urged him to up the contents of his stomach. His brain began to dizzy and swirl everything. He leaned against a wall for support, closing his eyes. He swallowed quickly, forcing back down the bile that had been edging up his throat.
It was silent for a moment, in that dark place. It was almost ethereal. There was hardly a sound in the whole place. Licking his lips once, he attempted to talk. He needed to hear something more… more living than the sound of the air quickly blowing passed… wherever he was. He took a deep breath, readying himself for the attempt.
"Where…"
He smiled at his success, though the noise he had made bounced eerily off unseen walls. He wanted to try again. His own voice was comforting him with its rich deep tone.
"Where, where am I? Where in the world could I… I, Minamoto Kouji-"
A horrified look spread over his face. Something began to panic inside of his mind. What he just said wasn't right. There was a reason… Oh what in the world was the reason?!
The reason was that wasn't his name.
"Niwa Daisuke?"
No.
"Touya Akira?"
No.
"Shindo Hikaru?"
No… those were the names of people he knew.
He stood for a moment, frozen in place by not only the cold of his body, but the horrid sickening feeling deep inside his heart. A droplet of moisture seemed to form in the corner of his eye. He felt so helpless without an identity, with no true self. That little droplet rolled down his face, freezing on his cheek.
"Who am I…"
And as if to answer him, a whispering began to talk into his ear, tauntingly, seductively.
"You are not who you think you are…"
The barely audible words replayed over and over in his head with a never-ending echo. Something was wrong about this voice. It reminded him of dark and scary places. And why should he be hearing voices in his head?
"Who are you?!" He cried out to the air, hoping for another answer. There was a pause before it came.
"Questions will only worsen your confusion."
He sat still for a moment. That was definitely a real voice, as it echoed like his own had done before. He licked his lips, thinking of a reply to the confusing statement.
"If questions do not help, then you must tell me." Now it was his voice flowing through the air. He waited in complete silence for the other 'thing' to speak. It felt as if he had said something that made that waiting creature in the dark smile with pleasure, though he didn't know whether this was good or bad.
"Come towards the darkness… Every answer you could ever want is there…"
And if it was any more possible, a shade of black even darker than the one the boy was standing in appeared right before him. He hesitated. Wasn't dark associated with bad, evil? He wanted the light, didn't he? Every human wanted to see the light. Right? In fact, right now, he wanted to feel the sun on his face. He wanted to have the ability to look at the difference between the darkness he was surrounded in and the colors that filled the world with a rainbow swirl. He wanted to taste the bright flavor of candy, hear the birds sing in a chorus of chirps.
But he also wanted answers. And this want was more demanding than any other at the time.
His arm reached out tentatively, fingers feeling carefully at the black substance. It didn't feel any colder than where he was. In fact, it felt warmer. Though not in a friendly way. His mind was contradicting itself, and it was half-way right. The warmness was one of when you had some horrid creature breathing down your back with its hideous, putrid breath.
"Anything to leave this place…" he whispered under his breath, and this was true too. He would do anything to leave the hellhole he was imprisoned in now. And if he wanted out of where he was going now, he knew he could do it. He was always able to get out of tricky situations. Gulping down one last breath of icy air, he leaped with all his remaining strength into the hole filled with the color even darker then black.
It engulfed him completely. He was directly aware as it flowed over every part of his body, into every crack and seam, down his throat, into his lungs… His breath left him. He gasped for air, his body's need for it calling out to him. He didn't move a muscle as he concentrated on staying awake. The warm feeling was all around him now, and it sent shudders down his spine, also giving him the familiar feeling of wanting to throw up. His eyes shut warily as he began drifting off into unconsciousness, again.
But, wait! Wait! Where were his answers? He couldn't die. He needed those answers before anything else happened to him. His ghost could wander the worlds for those answers, and he might never find them at all!! But then again, he was so tired, and closing his eyes and never waking up didn't seem like such a bad idea… No. He had to ask. He had to live. He had to know.
One small question escaped from his mouth, whispered with every ounce of will and hope he had. It was barely audible over the roaring from the black whirlpool that was pulling him to oblivion.
"Who… am I?"
"You are Duskmon."