TITLE: God
PART: Sequenced One Shot
PAIRING: Sendoh Akira x Rukawa Kaede
GENRE: Alternate Universe (Yaoi, Angst, Psychological)
DISCLAIMERS: The series I'm referring to does not belong to me… only this weird story does.
NOTE #1: Blah or Blah is for emphasis. /Blah/ is for conversations over the phone or flashbacks (if any). /Blah/ is for the conscience or whatever inner voice there is talking. Blah is for thoughts or random Japanese words. Some of these words are footnoted at the end of every page (I'm beginning to understand the need for footnotes in fiction. Thank you dear friend, you know who you are. XD).
NOTE #2: As early as now I'm warning you guys that this is not your conventional fic. It tackles religious dogma that might be quite disturbing to some of you. If you are one who is easily offended by anything radically diverse from your faith, I suggest that you do not continue reading this – or even perusing it. I will not be held responsible over your conversion to the unknown (Or something known but equally, shall we say, liberal). Be prepared. Be very prepared.
NOTE #3: I have a sequence of music play list while making this fic and I want to credit most of the plot to them for all the inspiration and influence they gave me... and then part goes to Chache-koneko for all the bizarre stuff we talk about regarding SenRu fic ideas. Kudos! If you want you can get a hold of these while reading the fic. That might enhance the atmosphere even more. Here goes:
Krad - Rakuen Fanatic (4:03)
Dark Maoshi - Kudou Whenever(4:21)
Myuji – Toga (4:13)
Fujimiya Ran – God Hurts Those He Loves (4:30)
Schwarz – 46 (3:19)
Weiß – Shadows and Lights (4:22)
To Destination – Eden (4:10)
Phi – Knife of Romance (4:42)
Sakamoto Maaya - Kiseki no Umi (4:20)
Petshop of Horrors – Jikuu Ryokou (5:28)
Koyasu Takehito – Tiny Little Song (1:40)
Brad Crawford – Este (3:12)
Black Lily Sisters – Stella Mary (4:52)
GOD SECTION ONE: THE OMNIPRESENT
Because there's no way I could forget you.
At my wits' end, I simply keep staring up at the sky.
It's almost as if I were like a small bird inside a cage,
Searching for the window, aimlessly wandering around.
- Caged Bird: Minamoto Shunichi
"Forgive me father for I have sinned..."
I had always been fascinated with the sacraments of the Catholic Church. I could remember the days when I was young and my mother would grasp me by the hand and bring me along with her to hear Sunday mass. She would take the sacrament of the Eucharist and secretly hand me a piece of the flaky thing that melts in the mouth even if I had not yet received my first communion.
"My last confession was eight..."
It was such a big deal to her then, such a big deal that she fussed around like a headless chicken, pattering about in haste as she pulled on her clothes. It was also during preparation that I saw her clad in her underwear and silky pantyhose, parading on tiptoes around the house in search for the perfect clothes to go with her newest rosary, or something like that.
Back then she had been the devout member of the religious community, something that only a few managed to scrape up for themselves. I pitied the other women that were so unlike my mother, because for me, she was the holiest being alive.
I revered her as my secret god.
"Please help me find absolution from my sins..."
When I was ten, my mother gave me my first rosary, and since it came from her and was a religious relic as well, I was naturally delighted, to the point of ecstasy even. I used it a lot, for my mother often told me it would help save me from the fiery depths of hell, and frankly, as a child, all I knew of hell was that it burned sinners alive, so of course I wasn't too thrilled about it. I let myself abstain even at a young age every Lenten Season. I did not fully understand it yet but I obeyed the lessons my mother taught me.
I was a good boy.
And being a good boy, I always abided by my mother's rules and her lessons.
"No matter what the cost is, father, please hear me..."
During my eighteenth winter, my father fell ill. There was something wrong with his lungs, the doctor said. All ten years filled with excessive alcohol and cigarette smoke finally took their toll and rendered him a vegetable. Alcohol poisoning at first, then the doctor detected water in his lungs. For me, that translated as death, and briefly, at times when I was contemplating on my own while watching my father waste his life away attached to IV tubes, I wondered if he would be anointed... or that he would agree to be the recipient of one.
My father had never been religious. He abhorred going to church and he seemed to be taking extreme measures to ensure he did not step even one centimetre towards it. There were questions in my mind then. Like why my father did not like me much since – ever... and why I had blue eyes instead of customary Japanese black or at least, brown.
"My sins are..."
I wanted to ask him about it, but I learned my lesson from the last time I tried to and since then, I never opened it for discussion. I was eleven that time and just as the final words poured out of my mouth, he stalked away and came back with his favourite Winchester, pointing it at me threateningly. I was practically terrified then. It was the first time I had seen eyes dilated, irises contracting until they seemed like points in middle of white film.
What petrified me even more was the fact that I found it exhilarating in a way. Imagery of thousand upon thousands of maddened eyes staring at me... they were strangely inviting. The mixture of shock, anger, lunacy and pain... his eyes, like the ones in my brief fantasy, were eerily beautiful.
I prayed for my father in church half an hour after visiting time was over, and I was in the middle of crossing myself when I heard voices. Surprised, I looked around – and I saw nothing. I stood up, and was exiting the front pew when I heard them again, clearer this time. I knew that I should just mind my own business, but the laughter seemed awfully familiar.
It resembled that of my mother. Quietly, I searched for the source and found what I had not been expecting. In the confession booth was my mother.
With her was the head of the church in our area, Fuse Jin-soujou(1), the one whose eyes fascinated me most of all – for they were a beautiful shade of brilliant sapphires.
"I know I did wrong and I am truly sorry for all of them..."
/'Finally, we're alone.' Fuse-soujou murmured thickly. 'Are you sure your house will be vacated tonight? What about your son?'
'He's sleeping over at a friend's tonight...'
'Good, you still have your good points after all...'
'Of course you ninny! If I don't have it until now, would we be able to be together secretly like this for almost twenty years?'
'True...'/
It was all I needed to hear before I turned tail and ran as quietly as I could.
I was in luck.
They never heard me.
"All except..."
My father's lungs gave way that night. When I learned about it, strangely, I did not cry. My eyes were dry and I even felt invigorated for reasons still unknown.
"I..."
An hour later, I heard people screaming. One for mercy and the other for forgiveness. Whatever was that about? I did not pay any heed to it. All I did was walk calmly through the door with fingers clasping the rosary in my pocket. With deliberate intent, I took it out and wrenched it apart.
"I killed the holy angels..."
There was no point in using it anymore.
"I killed my God."
GOD SECTION TWO: THE OMNIPOTENT
Ah, I'll do it over and over again, even if there's no end to the darkness
Ah, from here, there should be a starting dream
- Yakusoku Featuring Kamui: Suzumura Kenichi
Rukawa Kaede never liked confessions.
Not even when his mother thrust him into the seminary when he was eighteen. There was something truly stupid about it, something he saw as triviality. Why in heaven's name did one have to confess his sins to a priest when he could've confessed to God directly?
There was some kind of comfort in it in fact, and maybe that was the whole point in doing so, regardless of what his professors repeatedly reiterated during boring lectures about priests as representations of Christ... or was that 'representation of Christ's disciples'?
Now, he was a priest, and it might seem blasphemous that he still did not like to administer such sacred ritual. It made him feel a lot heavier in the heart after listening to such depressing matter that he wanted to just bail in the middle of one.
He was being unfair, but since it was for his sanity, he was sorely tempted to do so. He sighed inaudibly, careful not to let his charge hear – or sense – his impatience. Drumming his fingers silently on one of the many folds of the wooden partition, he stared up, heavenward, praying for it to be over.
And as if heaven answered his prayer, the man confessing finally made his closing statements.
For a split-second, he debated on whether he should give the usual penance. However, seeing that he did not exactly hear much of the confession, he added a couple of Hail Marys for good measure.
Maybe next time, he would try to be more patient.
Or maybe next time, he would just have to switch with the other parish priest to take over the job of administering confession – permanently.
X o X o X
He was not one to think about the past. He promised himself that he would let go of everything, of all he had heard, and all he had seen. Yet, his mind was not cooperating. What was wrong with him anyway? He had never been like this since...
"Father..."
Rukawa turned around, surprised. In a way, he was thankful. If the boy did not call him in due time, he would be lost... his mind would once again wander the slopes of his fluctuating and yet so vivid memories. It frightened him in a way. The boy would have a treat before he went home as a favour, that was for sure. Probably one of the delicious-looking lemon bars Sister Ayako baked this morning.
"What is it?" He asked fondly, ruffling the boy's head.
The boy smiled happily, probably also in awe that the head priest of the parish was finally taking notice of him, touching him in fact. "Father, Bishop Sinclair is here to see you!"
He raised an inquisitive brow and his hand dropped to his side. Heart thumping wildly, he tried to maintain his smile. "Did he say why he came to visit?"
The boy shook his head. "He just told me to come fetch you, that is all."
The echo of the screams that remained reticent in his memories was ringing in his ears. He had not the pleasure to hear it, but somehow, he heard it, if only in his mind. It was how he imagined the screams would sound... and perhaps it was how it truly would be if everything went according to...
"Father?"
He shook his head, letting the memories slide out for the meantime. He had much to do...
"Lead me to him, Azusa-kun..." He said softly. "And tell Sister Ayako that I want you to take my share of the lemon bars she baked this morning as an extra..."
"Really?" Azusa bounced happily, mind filled with heavenly lemony-sweet thoughts. "Even your part?"
Rukawa smiled. "Of course my child... that's because you've been such a good little boy."
"Thank you father!"
At that, the boy scampered off, giggling.
If he had been more observant, he should have noticed that Rukawa's smile did not quite reach his eyes.
X o X o X
"Ah, Kaede!"
Rukawa debated on whether he should let himself be enfolded in those chubby arms. Bishop Sinclair had always been the huggy-type, and frankly, it gave him the chills. He knew it was just the western way of greeting people, but still...
Sighing, he relented. There wasn't much to do anyway. After all, if not today, the old man would definitely hug him next time they meet – if they met again that is. He felt some sort of static mar his skin. The effects were almost invisible, but it was there. Now the minute hairs on his skin were standing up in attention. He hated it when they were like this. He hated it when the westernised priests touched him like this.
Silently, he cursed himself. Why didn't I wear something with long sleeves instead of this shirt? He schooled his face, letting a fond smile rest on his lips. "Bishop!" He greeted, hands clasping the shorter man's plump shoulders in a gesture of friendship. "How nice of you to drop by!"
"Well, I was in town for a conference, so I decided to visit you before I fly off to the Vatican tomorrow." The old man announced jovially. "So, how have you been? You seem a bit taller than I last saw you though... and I thought men don't grow past twenty-one anymore!"
Rukawa smiled. "Then Science must be wrong. I grew a couple of centimetres and I'm already twenty-six!"
The bishop erupted into a huge burst of laughter. "Oh my, Kaede, do you work so hard that you forget how old you are?"
His muscled stiffened and his smile faltered. "I'm sorry... but..."
"Ah, you must be, my boy! You're only twenty-five!"
"Oh, that's right." He pressed his palm against his forehead and laughed nervously. "Right, sorry..."
X o X o X
He missed his home. He could still see it, every detail, every nook and cranny, every flaw. He missed the crystal collection of his father. He missed the jewellery collection of his mother. He missed his pale blue room.
Rukawa lay back on the pliable comfort of his bed.
And he missed his bed most of all.
In the tragedy's aftermath, he had his home cleaned, remodelled, and sold. For eight years he had yearned for the comfort of being in a place where memories thrived, where spiritual peace was effortlessly available.
He missed the rosary he lost then. If only wires instead of nylon threads connected the beads, it would not have been destroyed so easily.
Sighing, he let his mind drift to other matters.
He missed the image he uplifted on the pedestal ever since he was young. He missed the image of the Mary that he learned to be possessive of through the years that passed. If only she was left unbroken by perverted hands. It was probably sheer idolatry that made him look up to that picture, mental now unfortunately. But that was fine. It was not as if he still wanted to see such image everyday.
Another thing he missed was the smell of fine wine. It wafted gently, the aroma teasing him since he was young. The cellar had been almost empty before his father followed his god to alcohol paradise. There was something his mind registered as guilt that made him feel queasy. He missed the smell of fine wine, and yet he did not miss the father who consumed the wine. It was uncanny, and yet, his heart beat not for him.
His mind breached wider destinations... most prominent of all were the melodic sounds echoing deep in the recesses of the underground rooms of the seminary. They were shameful to others, probably, but not for him.
He loved them. He loved them so much that he made sure to hear them repeatedly until the dawn broke. The seemingly earthy sounds that pierced his brain, freed his heart and burned his soul...
He loved it to the point of addiction.
Absently, he fingered his hair and smirked.
He wasn't like this before. Most did not mind his transformation... they did not even take notice at all, which is good, since there were fewer questions he needed to answer – not that he'd answer them in the first place.
But Sister Ayako was different from the rest. She always took notice of what he did. He had seen her staring at him, mostly in disapproval, and lately, in something akin to horror. Once, she even commented on the way his eyes seemed to be more troubled now than before.
Rukawa asked her why, but she did not answer. She just bit her lip and went scurrying away. She began baking him confections almost every day, ironically. For someone who seemed to hate him, she was serving him a great deal. There was a burgeoning suspicion at the back of his mind, and he paid heed to it completely. He did not take in even one morsel of what she prepared. He wasn't much into sweets anyway.
He closed his eyes. Never mind her. She was just one of those people he had to interact with each day...
His fingers ceased their incessant touch.
He was tired.
I miss my hair...
X o X o X
The next morning was perfect. The weather was fair and his flock was enthusiastic than usual.
After an early mass, he noticed the group of youngsters lounging outside his office door. There was something quite not right...
"Father!" Cried out one of the girls as she saw him approaching. She stumbled towards him and grabbed hold of his robes, letting her tears cascade from her eyes and dribble down to the soft fabric of his habit. He should be scolding her for such impudence, but strangely, he did not have the heart to. "Father!"
Gently, he placed a consoling hand on her head. "What is it?"
The girl, eyes raw from lamentation, turned up to him. "Father, it's Azusa-chan..."
Rukawa's eyes hardened.
"What happened to him?" He asked stiffly.
"He died last night..."
X o X o X
"What makes you so sure it was I who brought death upon the poor boy?"
What indeed? He stood, looming over the young Dominican nun, eyes narrowed and hands twitching as if in need of something to strangle. "You gave him my part of the lemon bars yesterday." He was livid with rage and his body shook in tremendous jolting waves.
Her dark eyes gave nothing away... but then, a slow smile spread on her face. It was terrifying to say the least, and he was nonetheless feeling fear, although he was a bit edgy. "Well, that's not my fault anymore, father." She answered callously. "It was supposed to be yours."
"Really?"
Strange thing was, he suddenly felt relaxed as he took in the blooming vile expression on her face upon his careless answer. The rage that consumed him a moment ago gone, leaving him floating in bliss. Everything seemed to be taking shape now, taking shape, and smouldering him, drowning him, as reality began to ignite between them.
Carefully, he pulled the chair across her and sat, crossing his legs. "Do tell."
Ayako glared, her hands gripping the edge of the table, hard, so forceful in fact that her knuckles turned white. He was fascinated with it to say the least... but it was more entertaining to gaze upon her twisted features.
"Chameleon." She spat. "You desecrated my brother, so much so that he killed himself!"
"Your brother?"
He wanted to toy with her, and toy with her he did. The desire to inflict injury was strong, but it was more fun making her squirm.
"You sodomized him, you monster! You made him as earthly as you are!"
"How so?" He jeered.
Silence.
"Can't say anything?" He leant back on the cushioned chair and allowed an easy smile drift across his taunting features. "Why is it that you people cannot even utter any word pertaining to that of intercourse?
Sodomize? I did not sodomize your brother, revered sister, we fucked. We had sex."
Darkness suffused him even more as the other gasped in disbelief. Memories flowed freely now, and he, as usual, thrived in them. It was refreshing. Yes, the memory of that dark, secret room in the seminary was strangely stimulating, as was the thought of the life two people had given the shadows.
It was pure animalistic desire, what they had. Probably a lot more feeling too.
"That's preposterous, he will never –"
"Ah, but he did – we did – and it was great." He countered in self-satisfaction. "He was so hot inside that I burned, I burned willingly for all the cravings of flesh that erupted between us, Sister. It was mutual, what we did. I did not desecrate him."
"He will never..."
"It was against the rules of society, or God, Sister... but we loved it, we loved joining our bodies so selfishly. We were in ecstasy, not only because of the pleasure crashing on us, but also because of that lone assumption that we're the only ones experiencing true happiness inside that tomb."
"You tempted him to!"
"Yes, that is true." He allowed, resting his chin on his hand. The hard wooden table was digging into his elbows, and it alleviated some of the pain that suddenly entered his system. "You were the one who told the head of the seminary, am I right? I paid for it already. I did not become a priest...
Yet, he did. Was there justice in that? No, there wasn't. He enjoyed every minute of it, Sister, so he should have been punished as well... but then again, family influence had something to do with it, am I right?"
"Of course not..." Ayako was shaking now, eyes overflowing with long-repressed tears. For him, it was a beautiful sight.
"He wanted me so much that he tried to follow me... but your family intervened. Do you realise how unhappy you made him? How miserable?"
"I knew how miserable he was, I am his sister! But you... did you realise that you did such thing out of the need for revenge? Everything was a huge lie, and still you say such horrible things about me and my family!" Yes, he decided. Her outburst was beautiful.
"I wanted to ask you this, Sister Ayako... how come you don't have the same blue eyes that your brother had? You come from a family with such hereditary colouration, how come you did not partake of it, even just slightly? He had such beautiful eyes... and your late uncle too, the head priest eight years ago..."
Ayako did not want to hear anymore.
She ran out of the refectory in haste, hands blocking her ears in crazed frustration.
He watched her go.
Ah, you don't even know half of it, Sister... your brother did not commit suicide... He needed not do anything, because he was perfect...
GOD SECTION THREE: OMNISCIENT
Injured black wings glimmer beautifully
As they soar in the light of the moon
Now, the crimson kiss has found its way into my heart,
And will soon flow into my dream...
- Eden: To Destination
"I killed my God."
He smiled at me then, blue eyes filled with much emotion. It was such a rare treat for me to see such glorious sight. I felt blessed. Gently, I caressed his hair. "So, what do I get as penance?"
Without words, he pressed close to me and reached up, eyes closing as our lips made contact. "Your promise."
My heart fluttered. The tingly feeling in my hands was manifesting itself once again. They were itching to grab hold and strike, just as they did eight years ago. Now, at twenty-six, the feeling was still vivid. "They will notice." I said as we came up for air.
"They won't." He assured me.
"How about your sister? She is in the same parish you're assigned to."
"Ayako-neechan... don't mind her, she'll understand anyway."
I sighed. Somehow I doubted it. Carefully, I wrapped him in my arms. "Are you sure you want to do this?"
"Kill your God to be a God." He murmured softly, almost lovingly. "It's the only way you will achieve your peace."
I was ready.
So was he.
The feel of the cold metal seeped into my gloved hands. The weight of it was fascinating as well, but what excited me more was the thought of blood running down my hands. I entered the seminary for retribution, just to find this man with the same shade of azure for eyes, just to find him so I could extract pain from him in place of his uncle's betrayal manifested through my birth. He knew it, and he wanted to atone for it, much to my surprise.
And I loved him for that.
He was altruistic at best.
He was the same as my mother and yet so different.
And he was more perfect.
He became my God.
He smiled up at me one last time as I pressed the barrel of his gun against his temple. I smiled lovingly back.
I will be you and you will be me. That is our deal...
'I love you Sendoh Akira...' He mouthed silently, and I mouthed one back.
Then, I pulled the trigger.
I will be my own God.
OWARI
A/N: I hope you enjoyed this one, though the word 'enjoyed' might be a bad word for it. ; Sorry to hamper the joys of your Valentine celebration. Reviews are welcome... if you don't want to say anything, that's fine as well. It's your choice after all.
1 Bishop