Sensation Black
i
H-How did I end up here…?
The physical touch of sweaty, clumsy limbs smothered over Tsukiyono Omi. Blonde hair stiffer than usual thanks to gel grew heavy in the stifling heat of the warehouse.
This isn't what I wanted…
Well-known blue eyes squinted against the random flash of laser lights and oncoming emotion. A table laden with all types of…tools was the footrest for the many oblivious young adults surrounding it-oblivious to reality.
In the middle sat a clear vase, he sized it up to be around two feet tall.
Two-third's full of multi-coloured ecstasy.
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"Omi-kun! Yoo hoo-snap out of it."
"…Huh?"
The boy turned his head slowly in the direction of the voice, away from the classroom window he had been gazing out of right into a pair of grey eyes-a pair of grey eyes mere inches from his face.
"Ah! Hiro-san! What the-"
Falling ungracefully from his plastic chair and onto his ass, Omi fully snapped out of his daze and blushing with embarrassment he quickly and jerkily rose to his feet, the fellow classmate meanwhile laughing lightly at his reaction.
"S-Sorry about that…I didn't-what time is it?"
The slim brunette raised his hand to point at the clock on the wall, bringing attention to the few students now quietly exiting the classroom basked in afternoon sunlight.
"Class ended almost five minutes ago…I was finishing up my last questions and I noticed the last bell seemed to pass you by."
"Oh, I kinda zoned off for awhile there…thanks," Omi replied, sighing a little as he pulled on his back pack and stood up, now level with Hiro.
He shared two classes with the boy and they talked on the random day-more acquaintance then friend. And as the blonde returned the gaze of the boy who had cocked his head, reminded himself of the strange feeling he got whenever in Hiro's presence.
It wasn't paranoia…more curiosity-a cautious curiosity.
"No problem, from what I've seen you've been doing that a lot lately…if you don't mind me asking, is everything alright, Omi-kun?" He asked, a seemingly genuine frown furrowing his delicate eyebrow line.
Feeling slightly awkward with the whole situation the blonde waved his hands and put on a reassuring smile-however against his thoughts the action was.
"Yeah! I've just been a little-I mean a lot tired lately…you know what I mean?"
It was a moment before the other answered, finally mirroring his own grin.
"I think so…but look-" The brunette quickly glanced at the clock as well then bent over, scribbling something on a spare piece of paper before holding it out to Omi. "I've got to get going but you seem like the good friend type, so here's my IM address. If you want you can add me and we can talk later, alright?"
Omi opened his petite mouth to speak but before he could answer the other was halfway across the room, barely turning as he waved good-bye.
Weird…
Shrugging, he pocketed the paper and made his exit as well.
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"Ken-kun, Yohji-kun, I'm back! What are you guys do-"
"A fucking idiot is what you are!"
"And who the fuck are you to judge me?"
He paused, even flinched while in the process of taking off his shoes in the back entrance of the Koneko.
Not this again…how did they manage to piss each other off this time?
As if in answer to his mental question, the enraged rant of Aya echoed back to Omi loud and clear.
"I'm a rational person who thinks you're a fucking idiot for getting drunk during your afternoon shift! You must really be trying to set your personal bar pretty high,"
Despite the playboy's slurred words, they held an anger that matched the swordsman's.
"Fuck off you-you cold bastard…we've had no customers…what the hell is it to you?"
"You're an eye-sore in every way possible right now."
"Cry me a river, build a bridge, and get-"
"I don't need this bullshit right now Yohji."
Omi shook his head, starting up the stairs-of course, not bothering to enter the shop AKA: battlefield.
Disappointed and with a familiar numbness, he stopped in front of Ken's open doorway.
The muscular brunette sat leaning against his dresser, still with his work apron on and nudging a worn soccer ball between his sock-clad feet.
His head was down, and the blonde didn't need to see his eyes to tell what kind of withdrawn state he was in.
"…Ken-Ken?"
Almost instantly he raised his gaze to the younger boy. "Omiitichi."
Shifting his legs uncomfortably the blonde put in his usual effort to summon up a small smile. "Are you alright?"
Ken's head made a slight motion in return.
"…I should have realized what he was up to…even for Yohji, ten bathroom breaks is a bit much. Before I knew it he was tripping all over the place…and then Aya came back from wherever the hell he usually goes and all hell broke lose."
Omi remained in the doorway listening with downcast eyes as the brunette broke off briefly before starting again.
"Yohji knows getting drunk this early is stupid…and Aya knows the argument is pointless…and yet they fight almost every day now-I guess it's how they take some of their stress out…"
"Ken-kun…are we going to be okay?"
But his teammate was gone before he could offer any reassurance, lost in thought as he stared once again at his soccer ball.
Omi wanted to shout at him-to shout at him like…like Aya and Yohji were shouting at each other. As soon as the thought crossed his mind he stumbled back and almost ran to his room, shutting the door behind him in a rush.
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"Nngh…"
Hours later a disheveled-looking Omi raised his head off his desk. As he groggily returned to his senses he willed his brain to slow down his reasoning as to why he had escaped to his room in the first place.
Stretching his arms and leaning back the blonde heard a beeping coming from the lap top in from of him, guessing it was the noise that had woken him up.
It's an IM…from that guy-Hiro.
Before he'd unthinkingly taken that little nap, he decided he might as well add the guy-anything to distract him at that moment.
Momentarily shutting his cerulean eyes again he ran a hand through his blonde locks and proceeded to open the convo.
shypartier: heyy
LonelyKitten: hi
shypartier: whats up?
Omi's hands came to a stop over the keys.
What was up was that Weiss was going downhill. Not in their performance, not in their business but mentally and structurally Weiss was going downhill. They used to all have hope-to varying degrees-of a future that could be different from the living hell they went through every day.
But recently the hole they were in seemed to get deeper. The smallest things trigged Aya and Yohji-surrounded by so much darkness there's no where to really run to.
Mission after mission…they seemed endless, no one expected Takatori to fall into their hands immediately but time was passing so quickly.
Omi swore he could always smell blood on his hands.
He used to be able to do small things for the rest of the time that would make the atmosphere lighter-they all used to balance each other out and live in a relatively peaceful manner-a brotherhood.
We can only handle so many skeletons in our closet…
LonelyKitten: well i've got some family problems going on right now
shypartier: oh shitty-whats wrong?
LonelyKitten: um everyone's kind of going crazy and turning on each other
shypartier: i hear u there
Omi wanted to roll his eyes.
shypartier: well the best way 2 cure your problem is by getting out of the house for awhile
Raising an eyebrow the blonde slowly typed back with one hand.
LonelyKitten: i don't know about that
shypartier: theres nothing wrong with loosening up
LonelyKitten: whats your version of that?
shypartier: alright-my friend is in charge of this killer bash and you could make a bunch of friends and the address-
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I don't want to be here…why am I here?
Hiro sat across from him on another couch with a drink in one hand, laughing uproariously thanks to effects of his speed kicking in.
I barely knew this guy…yet here I am at a rave. Just how desperate am I to get away from the guys?
Another thought that made him want to do something uncharacteristic-like join the Yager-bomb fest taking place a few seats down from him.
I'm supposed to be the happy one-the one who smiles no matter what.
The tempo of the hardhouse style music was catching up with his heart beat.
All for what…all…for…what.
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For the second time in the last twenty four hours, Omi found himself groggily coming to.
Despite the nausea in his stomach at the sight of a rippling world thanks to the still-lasting effect of the acid, the euphoric effects from the E lasted as well throughout the unknown hours he had been at the rave.
Somehow the blonde had ended up against the only thing that could support him in the building-a wall. In front of him was the spread-out throng of escapism-seeking souls that had successfully "left" this world.
He was one of them.
Innocent, little Omi.
Content with the place of his own that he was in right now; he paid no heed to returning tunnel vision but continued to sit and sway with a sloppy grin on his face, even as a different kind of shadow formed near the blonde.
Colour was glowing-glaring at him from every direction, but that dark, familiar blue…
Those eyes…
"Bombay…"