Burn on through the Dark Clear Aoba
!Attention! not my storry, it is my sisters!
A note before you read THIS IS AN AU there is: no Toue, no test-tube baby-ness, no alternate personalities so Ren is just an old dog Allmate, Clear was human. This will be a series if I get a good response.
The thump of bass was audible through the thick walls of the seedy club. People lined up, drugs in hand, alcohol waiting. Business as usual. The white hair of one soon-to-be patron looked out of place in the grungy scenery, as did his attire. It was all too clean and pristine.
The bouncer gave him a once over and opened the door with a stiff nod. He nodded in return and was immediately greeted with music that rattled his lungs. The bar seemed to glow with the promise of solitude, as much as one could have in a club and a more manageable volume.
The man squeezed through the bodies swaying groggily to the music. Finally reaching a seat, he muttered the special to the bar man, turned and waited. What would it be tonight, drug overdose? Fight? Shooting? That's what he had seen but the cards could play any way they wanted. He loved the night shift. Humans fascinated him, seeing their lives in mere seconds was exhilarating, the best part was finding someone who needed to stay alive.
"I haven't seen you around here before?" A light, sugary male voice pulled him from his musings.
He looked over, smiling, "My first time here," he chimed sweetly. The long bright blue hair of the other man became apparent. Exciting.
"Well," he moved a stool closer a dark blue dog shuffling over to his feet, "if you need any help finding your way around I'm here if you need me. I'm Aoba by the way, and this is Ren." Aoba hoped that was enough to earn him money for this one, the owner was making use of his persuasive tongue to attract repeat customers.
"Clear. I'm Clear," was the short response, he sipped his drink and leant towards the Allmate. 'This one has such a beautiful voice, I like this one,' he thought with a quiet almost internal laugh, amused by his thoughts. The dog nosed his hand and he ruffled the soft fur of its head
"An interesting name."
"Well-" a light, no, glow caught his eye. His signal to move. Clear jumped up, eager to see what it would be.
He didn't see as Aoba followed him, confused by his change in demeanour.
The bathroom stank with twelve kinds of god knows what and voices were escalating to shrieks.
Drink in one hand, handgun in the other, was the source of the noise. A man had his hands up in surrender, delicately talking to what appeared to be his girlfriend.
She gestured with the gun, sharp and angry. Bang. Clear hadn't even heard the door open, the scenery melted away.
Twins, fraternal. A mother panting, dying. Church. Pink hair. Home. School. Bullies. Friend. Junk-shop. Bar. No. No, no, no, no.
Clear watched Aoba's body fall in agonizing slow motion. The impossibly large clock struck twelve, a figure which seemed to eat the light of the dimension was suddenly to the left of Clear.
Clear watched Aoba's body fall in agonizing slow motion. The impossibly large clock struck twelve, a figure which seemed to eat the light of the dimension was suddenly to the left of Clear.
"You want this one." The voice came from everywhere. A nod. The very beginnings of the blood crept along his pale blue shirt, vivid against the mute colour despite it only being a tiny spot. The green lighting on the horizon of the desolate plain edged towards a turquoise.
"Protocols." The second hand made its trek to the next increment, as if moving through mud. Aoba's hair looked as if it were being left behind as the descent continued.
"I don't care, this feels different." Aqua tones changed the lighting as the green left the edge of the world. The second hand was halfway through its journey.
The scene reformed, time in this place restarted. Aoba slumped, clutching his side, the red was slow. The assailant started screaming, the man took the chance to take the gun. 'Thank you' was all Clear could think as his Coil called the ambulance.
Darkness, pain.
Go back to sleep.
No.
A crack of light burned, Aoba groaned, there was a shuffle and the light stopped. The room was comfortably dim, fur was under his hand. He expected to see his grandmother sitting worry and anger lining her aged face.
"Sir?" So formal, a nurse? No, it was... Clear, he sounded like a child addressing an adult.
"C-Clear? How did you get here? Where's my grandma?" Aoba questioned, sleep still trying to drag him back.
"I came with you in the ambulance, sir. Your grandmother is getting some food," Clear said, he looked a little worried, "It's alright if you don't remember."
Aoba's confusion was obvious as he processed this new information. "What... Happened?"
"Oi, are you going to sit there yammering on or are you going to let me in?" the call through the door was muffled. Clear bounced up, and quickly opened the door.
"I'm so sorry, Mrs Seragaki," Clear took the tray off of her and placed it on the bedside table. 'Why didn't he call her Tae like everyone else?' Aoba brushed off the thought, his fingers tangling in dark blue fluff. Ren looked up at him; he pulled it closer to his chest.
She nodded at Clear and turned to Aoba, "I don't know what you did but it was stupid," Her tone was soft despite her words. She walked over to Aoba, "I don't want you working at that bar."
"That, I can do," he smiled wide at his grandmother, making her crack one too, "now can someone please tell me what the hell happened?"
"What do you mean he's living with us?!" Was the indignant shriek from the top of the stairs.
"He feels responsible for your accident!" Tae replied, "And if you need help there's only so much I can do, I'm old you know!" Aoba huffed, but limped back to his bed.
"I did not mean to upset you, sir," Clear stood with a small bowl of rice and egg.
"It's fine, and please just call me Aoba," he relented, easing back down, careful not to disturb his stitches. Clear draped a blanket over him and handed him the food, taking his own from the desk and sitting on the floor. He smiled to himself, 'what have I gotten myself into?'
The sunlight danced on the walls refracted into a million tiny pieces by a dresser covered in glass items. Rainbows spattered within them. The room was quiet, the absence of someone ringing in it. A single bed lay, unmade and unmanned.
Whispers break the heavy silence surrounding; the ground rises up as someone catches themselves in time. They look up. A frail old man lies on the edge of a decaying road, his face is calm despite the pain in his chest, creeping, stealing his breath. They hold his hand. He leans towards them, lips parted as he croaks softly, barely audible. They leant closer, everything fades.
The softness of cushion registers, as does the dimness of early morning. A little more today. Clear smiled, another decade and might just find out what was said. His heart beat fast, like after a nightmare, but he was happy, feeling a little lighter, and closer to truth.
"Ah, fuck!" A quiet swear descended the stair, Clear's ears perked. He rolled out of bed, searching the top of the stairs as he drew closer. Aoba leant heavily on the wall, clutching his right side.
"Need some help, Aoba?" Aoba looked down at the other man, momentarily startled.
"That'd be great, thanks," smiling in relief, Aoba watched as Clear made his way up the steps.
"Where to?" Aoba looked to the side, flush unnoticeable in the gloom.
"T-toilet." Aoba leant firmly as Clear began to move, after a short nod. The journey was short with the assistance.
"You need me to go in with you?" Clear innocently asked. The spluttering that ensued was a definite no.
The rich dark swallowed the hallway as the door closed, leaving Clear to his thoughts. Of all those countless lives, why this one? Maybe that thing was right, maybe this is love.
The door cracked open, light once again filled the hallway. "Ready?"
"Ready."
The light cracked through the tops of the curtains, illuminating thin strips of the cosy living room and bathing the rest in a warm glow. Footsteps, muted, made their way through the kitchen. The noise disturbed a light sleeper; he rolled over, off the edge. The thump resonated through the ground floor and a yelp sounded from the kitchen.
"Ah, ow!" Clear held his head as he heaved himself off the ground "ow-ow-ow!" The blanket he was wrapped in had made an impressive knot around his midsection. He looked down at it and sighed, not even bothering to start with it. Despite being fully clothed he shivered, the hairs standing up on his neck, something felt wrong. He shook it off with a frown and headed up stairs.
Light seeped through the curtains, Aoba was breathing slowly, still asleep. The bandages rose and fell with his chest. They were visible, his shirt rolled up in his sleep. His skin looked ghostly in the dull light, rising, falling. So calm. Clear was at his bedside without even realising. His foot nudged a small paw, the small Allmate looked up, tongue poking out, and was promptly lifted up. Clear held the dog in his arms, nuzzling his face into the soft fur, he had gotten very attached to this dog in the last few weeks. He placed it down again and turned to the window. Slowly, the curtains were pulled back, morning light flooded half the room.
His skin prickled again, something was not right at all. His legs felt like wet spaghetti as he collapsed.
Bright light burned through his eyelids, he felt like he was in an oven. Fire, licking and consuming everything in sight was all he saw, his training academy; the place of his rebirth was crumbling under itself.
Blackness again, then a soft light. He was back in the present. His eyes flicked open, darting around the room, he was still on the floor. He could hear Aoba breathing as before.
"Thank god," he whispered and attempted to go on as if nothing happened.
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