Ripe with Splendor

-Episode I-

Part I

First was the smell – an undeniable stench of sweat and cheap perfume with a mix of cigarette smoke. It was ashy and dry, causing his throat to constrict painfully. He held back a cough in order to maintain his concentration. There was also the faintest stench of alcohol lingering in the air or perhaps it was due to his own breath, in which he inhaled deeply and tasted on his tongue.

Second the noises – shameless boasting of old filthy men and the giggles of whores that hung onto every word. Casual bragging, mostly lies, and the encouraging laughter of ones who only wanted to steal them of their riches. Perpetual chatter of the lower class, distinguished only as the permanent filth in a person's character that even Sibyl can not fix or get rid of.

Sight – nothing but darkness. He had placed his head onto his folded arms on the table earlier but from memory, it was dark and dimly lit with different coloured lights that provided more heat than light in reality. A mixture of red, orange, and yellow illuminated the room in the center, ignoring the far corners of the bar where patrons were surely enjoying themselves in the most sensual way. The heat enhanced the odours, patrons of the bar almost coughed out their lungs on arrival; it was an acquired taste or rather, a smell that disappeared once having been exposed to it long enough.

There were other sounds too if one were to listen closely; a cheap music player humming a fast tune with a heavy bass and not enough treble. The dingy cloth scrubbing away at the stains on the glass the bartender held in his hand. He tilted his head and there were the muffled exchanges between men and women; the kind of talk meant only for private that would surely cause any stranger to blush. However, once mixed with alcohol, hearts became braver and voices echoed throughout the entire room. There was also the rare intelligent remark here and there only to be forgotten by an inexcusable and utterly unnecessary use of profanities.

What a shame, he thought.

Who uttered these words; he did not know nor care. There was only the darkness behind his eyelids and the amplified vibrations of drinks being put down on the counter. He would curl his fingers around his glass reflexively, tapping his fingertips on it ever so often as to connect himself back to the place he had decided to play in for the night. This place with the cheap adults and the homeless, jobless, lost causes even according to Sibyl was strangely endearing. He felt oddly comforted being completely blind to his surroundings, the night slipping by in the company of strangers.

He had settled in comfortably when he felt a firm hand grab him by the shoulder.

"Ryo, let's go." A shaking urgency resonated in his hushed voice. "Come on, get up."

He didn't bother lifting his head. The voice was not that of a stranger and his shoulder tingled from where he had been touched. Instead, he smirked into his sleeve; he was not quite ready to leave just yet.

"I feel daring tonight, Ken." He mumbled before turning his head to the side, his eyes adjusted quickly to the light. "Don't you?"

Susumu Kentarou's face remained pale and panicked, stress evident in his eyes. He leaned in closer to whisper the words again in his ear. "Ryouta, I'm serious."

Ah, he's using my full name, Ryouta thought. Kentarou's nose seemed a little red as if he were about to cry from fright. How absolutely adorable, he noted.

Oosuno Ryouta found it quite insulting to him that his friend Kentarou, whom Ryouta affectionately nicknamed Ken didn't agree with his daring. He pouted into his folded arms.

"No need to worry," Ryouta began with a wave of his hand. "Absolutely no need. Here, have another drink." He lifted his head finally and beamed at his friend who had jerked away from him due to the sudden movement.

He gestured to the glass in his hand now empty of any liquid, filled only with the ice that had barely begun melting. He shook it slightly; the ice rang invitingly like chimes.

"Huh," He took an exaggerated look into his glass, closing one eye like one would if they were looking into a magnifying glass. "In fact, I'll order one too."

Ryouta felt his eyes glaze over at the sudden head movement and the room spun wildly. His eyes droopy and heavily lidded only made out the outline of Kentarou who had begun shaking him violently once again.

Kentarou leaned in closer "Ryouta, let's leave. You're drunk." He pleaded again in a hush. Vibrant green eyes shifted about frantically at the strangers seated at the surrounding tables. How he loved those eyes.

Ryouta groaned and turned his head around to scan the room. "What the hell are you looking around like that for?" His eyes swept over the surrounding tables. Everyone was absorbed in their own little world. No one would be paying attention to the two underaged boys here.

"Nothing. Nobody." Kentarou pouted. "I just want to get going, alright?"

Ryouta snorted. "If it's nothing then we aren't leaving."

Kentarou scratched his head, his floppy brown hair pointed every which way tucked under a knitted beanie. He furrowed his brow and pointed a guilty look towards Ryouta. "I can't believe I came here with you." He complained, throwing his hands out in front of him. The watch on his wrist caught a light and reflected a bright light onto the ceiling, catching the eye of an overweight customer with a woman draped over his arm. His eyes narrowed at the watch before Ken tugged nervously on his sleeve and pulled it over his watch.

Kentarou clicked his tongue in annoyance. "Come on now."

"Kentarou, relax. I just wanted to have a bit of fun with you." Ryouta teased. He tilted his head back, and stretched it to the right then the left while the room blurred at the edges. He brightened up, stretching the grin on his face even wider. "You know what; I'll even buy you a drink and another one after that. As many as you like!" He slapped Kentarou on the back playfully.

"Order more? Who are you kidding? Look at you right now, drunk beyond belief and who knows what else in your system. It's been hours and we have class tomorrow. Let's go." Kentarou slid off the bar stool, feet touching the ground and arm resting on the bar counter. He placed his other hand on his hip and stared pointedly at Ryouta as if he were scolding a small child.

Ryouta bit back the remark about Kentarou looking like a mother. Instead, he reached up with both arms and stretched in an exaggerated manner.

"But I have all this money with me. It would be a shame to keep it in my pocket." Ryouta whined loudly. He looked around, meeting the beady eyed gaze of the man that had eyed Kentarou's watch previously.

"Ryouta, don't say that so loud!" Kentarou hissed. "I don't want another drink, let's leave."

"You're so scared." he scoffed.

"and you're so obviously just trying to waste my time. Would you please stop trying to pick a fight with me?"

Kentarou tugged on his sleeve urgently but he dismissed him with a wave.

"Ken, trust me. I would never let anyone hurt you. Stay with me a little longer." Ryouta grabbed Kentarou firmly by the shoulder, staring into his eyes. He gently slid his hand down Kentarou's arm until he grasped his hand. He looked up at the standing Kentarou, making a rather sincere yet mischievous expression. Once he noticed the slight tint of warmth on Kentarou's cheeks, he smiled brilliantly then turned his attention to the bartender.

"Hey bartender, how about a couple more, please?" He asked cheerfully. Ryouta picked up his glass with a hand and waved it in the air like it were a bell.

The bartender raised an eyebrow at him. He had been watching the two of them throughout their little spout. "I appreciate the business kid but shouldn't you be leaving soon? You have school tomorrow don't you?"

Ryouta raised an eyebrow. "What's it to you? You've sold us drinks before."

"I'm just saying, kid." The bartender continued wiping down the glass in his hand with a shrug. "Might be time for you two to get going."

Ryouta rolled his head back to take a look at the ceiling before snapping his eyes back on the bartender. His unnecessary badgering had dampened his mood.

How dare he, Ryouta thought. Don't insult me when I'm with Ken. "And I'm just saying, get us boys another drink". He slammed the glass in his hand down on the bar table causing Kentarou to jump.

"Ryo!" Kentarou yelped.

"Kid, you need to calm down. Watch your hue." The bartender said after stumbling a few steps back from the boys. His eyes scoured the rest of the room nervously. A few heads had already turned to their direction.

"I keep my hue nice and clear, thank you." Ryouta mused. "Now, are you going to give me and my friend another?" Ryouta had jumped off the stool and planted his feet squarely at the bartender with his hands clenched into tight fists.

The pounding in his head throbbed at his temples. The room shone brightly, like the colours were frantically trying to escape the inanimate objects to which they were confined to.

Not in front of Ken, he thought.

"Ryo, I don't want any. Let's go." Kentarou grabbed his arm to pull him away from the scene.

"Shut up!" Ryouta shoved Kentarou hard on the chest. Kentarou lost his grip and staggered back a few paces from Ryouta.

"Ryo…" Kentarou's eyes widened at the sudden force and he stood there, motionless and mouth open wide at Ryouta.

Ryouta's face fell as he realized what he had done and his rage dissolved instantly. "Sorry…" he began sheepishly. He reached out his hand for Kentarou's, completely forgetting about the bartender but Kentarou continued moving back. His entire expression one of hurt and betrayal.

"Ken, I'm really sorry" he tried again. "I didn't mean it. You know I didn't." He stepped forward with an outreached hand. Ryouta cringed as Kentarou pulled back his hand and hid it behind his back. The rejection made his heart constrict painfully.

Kentarou began shaking his head slowly. "Ryouta, you're right…I'm scared." His voice shook as he replied. He continued backing away until he bumped into the bar stool behind him.

Having witnessed their fallout, the bartender came forward and leaned against the countertop, his eyes darting between Ryouta and Kentarou. "Look kid, come on, your friend is scared. He wants to leave. I'll serve you guys again next time, just take a hike and cool down for tonight."

The intrusive behaviour of the bartender wound Ryouta up even more and once again, the beating of his heart amplified. "Shut up! It's your fault Ken is so scared." He spat.

Ryouta pointed accusingly at the bartender. "If you had just given us what I asked for, you damn stupid son of a bitch!" Ryouta's face had become so heated he could hear his pulse pounding in his ears. His voice shook with rage and he sounded animalistic even to his own ears. "Hurry! Go back! Back to what it was like before! Ken, it was him! He didn't listen to me. I didn't mean to shove you - it was all because of him!" Ryouta looked frantically at Kentarou whose eyes had begun to water.

"Ryouta stop…please." Kentarou pleaded.

Even standing so far apart, Ryouta could see Kentarou's shoulders shaking. He would apologize to Kentarou first, it was childish of him to take out his aggression on his friend. He tried to calm down, exhaling slowly to try and reassure Kentarou. Once he knew his voice to be steady, he tried again to persuade him.

"Kentarou, please. I'm sorry. Sit back down and I'll get you what you want, alright?" Ryouta tried to best to make his voice soothing but Kentarou began shaking his head. He changed his tactic. "We can leave, is that better? We can leave now and find somewhere else to go. Please forgive me, Ken."

"That's not it, Ryo. It's you. You're scaring me and I can never figure you out. One minute you're so kind then the next…"He slowly began shaking his head, unable to finish his sentence. "Just...what are you doing, Ryo? I'm leaving. Without you." The tears had begun spilling over and his nose had begun to run too. Kentarou tugged on the sleeves of his sweatshirt and turned his back to Ryouta, leaving him in the bar as he looked on.

It was the first time that Kentarou had ever left his side.

Ryouta's head began to pound and his heart raced erratically. The room was starting to shake again. He closed his eyes and squatted down like he had been taught and began taking deep breaths. He grabbed an ice cube from his glass and clenched it in his fist as he had been taught and waited for it to melt along with his rage. But the room continued to spin, the pounding in his ears boomed, and his heartbeat became unpredictable. His legs began to shake uncontrollably, he completely lacked control of his body.

I can never figure you out, Ryouta repeated Kentarou's words in his head.

The pounding in his head continued at his fretting. The blood within him boiled until he felt his neck heat up. He began sweating a warm glistening sweat like he had just finished running a marathon. The ice cube had almost completed melted but he did not feel any better. Ryouta swayed side to side and threw the remains of his ice cube to the side and wiped his damp fingers onto his jeans. He grabbed his head roughly as to stop the thought of Kentarou's rejection. He pushed his palms into his temples and grabbed his hair, tugging harshly then throwing away the strands onto the dirty floor.

"Kid, are you alright?" The bartender reluctantly peered over from the countertop as Ryouta grunted painfully.

The sound of the bartender's voice jarred his thoughts but it also made his world finally stopped spinning. It was not him that Ken was upset with. It was the bartender who had started this whole situation. Ken had it all wrong. The clarity he received from this was overwhelmingly invigorating. No, Ken. You're wrong. It's his fault! His!

Ryouta gripped the glass tightly in his hand, a wide menacing grin on his face threatened to split his face in two. Ryouta threw the glass into the bartender's face. He had aimed the glass well enough and it shattered as it smashed into the bridge of the bartender's nose. An audible crack was heard then followed by the wretched scream of the bartender. Glass shards clung onto his skin and small cuts began to bleed all over his face. The blood started to trickle down his face like tears.

The bartender writhed and wrangled, trying to get the glass out of his eyes. With each blind swipe at his face, the glass dug deeper and deeper into his skin until the bartender was in a frantic state, blinded and in the utmost pain.

"Someone! Someone! Help me please!" He waved his arms helplessly as the attendants of the bar caught on. Screams came from the women that dangled on the arms of filthy men while the bartender screamed frantically, knocking over bottles of alcohol. The people dropped what they were doing and began rushing for the door. Patrons pushed each other out of the way and toppled over each other to get out quickly.

Ryouta was in hysterics. The screams of the people as they ran outside, frightened by the bleeding bartender, eyes damaged by the shards of glass. The horrendous sight gave him a high he would have never thought possible. It was invigorating, euphoric even. His vision had stopped shaking yet his heart was still pounding. He welcomed the rhythmic beating of his heart, excited by the fact that this chaos had been his doing. Kentarou would be so proud of him, he imagined. How could he miss this? The bartender that had tore them apart had gotten what he deserved!

"Too much fun! This is perfect!" He clutched his stomach and began shouting at nobody and nowhere in particular. "Look at the people, Ken! Sheep, each and every one of them! Running away, pushing and shoving each other out of the way as if they were lost of a shepherd." Ryouta stumbled back to his feet, his body swaying back and forth. He leaned against the counter to support himself as his torso buckled from his glee.

"You fucking brat!" The bartender had regained at least some composure. The blood had mixed with his tears causing it to run faster down his cheeks. He had realized the futility of rubbing the glass out of his eyes and he lunged forward, throwing the board up between the bar and the sitting area guided only by the sound of Ryouta's cackling laughter.

Ryouta kicked the bar stool in front of him causing it to collapse in front of the bartender who proceeded to trip over it. The unsuspecting man fell hard to the floor, clutching his body in pain. He had braced his fall with his hands, the glass shards from the previously broken glass wedged itself into his fingers and palms. Ryouta laughed uproariously at the bartender's pathetic state.

Ryouta continued laughing until the bartender stopped moving. He collected himself enough to walk over to the body. The bartender appeared to still be breathing but only weakly. His large body curled into fetal position. A grotesque face of tears, sweat, and blood laid in a pool of blood, glass, and spilled alcohol. Ryouta narrowed his eyes and gave him a couple swift kicks in the abdomen. The bartender made no attempt to fight back and he laid motionless, receiving every kick aimed at him. Without an opponent willing to fight back, Ryouta had no interest in him. He stared down at the body of the bartender expressionlessly.

"Never insult me in front of Ken again. Never make Ken look at me like that again." He spat onto the bartender's face. "Never take away my Ken."

Ryouta turned his attention away from the bartender and onto the rest of the bar. It was virtually empty for now.

The police should be on it's way given the increased stress level in the area, Ryouta thought. It would be best to leave.

He ruffled his hair roughly and dusted off his button up shirt. With one more wicked smirk, he slid past the counter and grabbed a couple bottles of liquor from the shelves. He hastily shoved them into his backpack and nested them between his schoolwork before zipping it up and heaving it up and over his shoulder. A quick glance at the counter alerted him to a few bills lying on the counter from an all too kind customer and he grabbed those too, stuffing them into his jean pocket.

The night had gone surprisingly well, he thought momentarily before an image of Kentarou's hurt face flashed in his mind. His upbeat mood quickly left him and he wondered how tomorrow would go when he was to see him again. He would never do anything to hurt him, surely Ken knew that.

So why did he start crying when he looked at me? Ryouta bit his lip. What did I look like in Ken's eyes?

As he began heading towards the door, the frail whimpers of the bartender caused him to remember the pathetic body writhing on the floor. Just thinking of the man twisted Ryouta's face into one of disgust. He smirked at the face of the bartender, tears and blood still streaming down his face. The metallic stench of blood was revolting.

"You think I'm done with you, Mr. Bartender?" He teased. Ryouta wound back his left foot, striking the side of the bartender as he lay on the ground. Again and again, Ryouta unleashed several kicks, each striking the bartender with deadly force until he had given up crying for help, silent tears leaving streaks down his battered face.

"Absolutely pathetic." Ryouta said. "Ken left me because of you, old man! If Ken doesn't forgive me I'll come back here and kill you! Don't you dare try to separate Ken and me again."

"Maybe he just doesn't understand you." A calm voice added suddenly.

Ryouta stopped midway through another kick. He turned to where the voice had come from. It was the first time he noticed the frail looking white haired man seated in a lone booth, long pale fingers holding open a thick hardcover book. If he were to guess, the man was not much taller than Ryouta himself if at all. He did appear older than Ryouta, calmly watching from a distance, the edges' of his lips slightly upturned.

"What the hell? There was still someone here?" Ryouta said nonchalantly.

"I've been here the entire time." The man replied, settling the book he was reading down softly on the table. He placed a hand gently over it's cover. "I like coming here to watch people."

"Watch people? You some kind of freak?" Ryouta turned his body to face the individual now, a hand placed on his hip. "Aren't you a bit sick in the head, sir?"

"Do you think so?"

"Hmph. I couldn't care less if you were." Ryouta turned back to the bartender. A total freak, he thought as he wound up his leg again.

"Tell me," the stranger began, "what was the feeling you had when your friend left you? Ken…tarou-kun was it?"

Ryouta stopped at the mention of Kentarou's name to look back at the stranger. It sounded completely foreign in the man's voice. A different voice from the ones he had been used to hearing all his life; he wished he could say Kentarou's name with that same voice. It rang with a purity that encompassed everything that Kentarou was to Ryouta. He thought he would like to hear it again.

The bartender hearing the other voice grew desperate and begged, "please sir, help me…"

Ryouta shifted his gaze to the hunched up body of the bartender on the ground then back to the white haired individual sitting at the table. The man didn't even so much as glance at the bartender but chose instead to continue sitting politely with one hand on top of his book and the other resting on his lap. He stared back at Ryouta patiently with a hint of curiosity, waiting for an answer. Ryouta too decided to ignore the pitiful pleading of the bartender as well.

"Why do you care what his name is?" Suspicious, Ryouta turned back to the man sitting alone in the booth. Amber eyes focused on him completely unembarrassed. Half lidded, he looked almost bored sitting there, but Ryouta felt his heartbeat quicken when the man's eyes flashed. He thought he felt a sense of danger dwelling within the white haired man.

This man was not bored, even Ryouta could tell. He was calmly observing Ryouta as if he were something that was not even human. A specimen that interests him - fascinates him and nothing more. However, Ryouta couldn't help feeling interested by the man that had stayed so calm while all others had run outside like chickens with their heads cut off.

Even stranger, this man did not belong in such a place. Long, shiny white hair and soft amber eyes, the man looked almost angelic with his pale features. He was sculpted as if he belonged on a mural or in a painting of some sort. In any world, he did not belong here with the scum of society.

The man continued waiting patiently as Ryouta looked him. He decided to answer as he felt no reason to hide from him. There was no reason to hide, Ryouta thought, he felt this man could already see through him.

"It was the first time he left me." Ryouta said finally. "I really scared him. I really messed up." He shook his head after uttering his last sentence. The guilt felt heavy and he grabbed the back of his neck with his hand, rubbing it roughly as to loosen the knots of stress that had begun to build up.

"Your feelings are not connected to his." The man said simply. "When he left you, you felt one thing and when you started beating the bartender, you felt another. Both of those feelings are yours alone. Tell me, which feeling felt better?"

Ryouta countered. "They led to one another so of course they are connected. Ken has always been with me, and I made him so scared. I lashed out at him and he left me. It was the bartender's fault so I gave him what he deserved. It felt good. It felt right but it would have felt better if Ken were with me. I wanted Ken to join me."

Ryouta crossed his arms. He shook his head, never having really thought about these questions himself. No, he was wondering the wrong things, swept up in this man's pace. "What does it matter to you?"

"It doesn't" He replied simply. "I only like to see the splendor of an individual's soul." His eyes flashed. "I want to see your splendor."

Ryouta tilted his head.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Ryouta snapped. "What splendor?"

He chuckled to himself before kicking some dirt on the floor close to his feet. "You think my soul has splendor? Are you trying to hit on me?" Ryouta snorted. "I'm flattered really but all I see is Ken. Though I do think you already know that." Ryouta began walking away from the man.

What a nut case, he thought. "You should be leaving soon mister, before the police get here. I think I can hear the sirens already." He laughed.

The man ignored his mocking and in turn, asked a question to Ryouta's retreating figure. "Do you not see the splendor in Kentarou-kun's soul? Is it impossible that I see the same in you?"

Ryouta stopped abruptly before looking back at the man in the booth. "Unbelievable. You're actually trying to hit on me aren't you?"

The man ignored him again. "The way you look at him is so interesting, I can't help but to be intrigued. Are you trying to protect him, are you trying to scare him into needing it? Into needing you?"

"You're full of shit" Ryouta scoffed. "Kentarou is kind and gentle. He doesn't get angry when he should. He's too good of a person for that. I help him just as he helps me. That's all there is."

The man leaned back in his chair as if in realization. He closed his eyes like he were absorbing the sun's rays for the first time. A slow smile graced his beautiful face before he spoke. "You're not alone in this world."

Ryouta smirked like he had already known. "And what about you mister?"

"Me? Well of course, I am alone."

Ryouta let out a chuckle. "And how's that working for you? In an age where people depend solely on the Sibyl System, you have the audacity to claim to be alone? Where every person has a role, has an identity, has a place to belong to. You try to find your answers, your "splendor" among the trash of society that even Sibyl does not want? Are you mocking me, mister?"

He laughed again before placing his hand mockingly over his heart. "That which needs to be done is carried out by those capable. Such is the grace bestowed upon mankind by Sibyl." Ryouta let his hand fall to his side before glaring mockingly at the man. "What are you then, a garbage man?"

The man had opened his eyes again as Ryouta waited for an answer. "We should get going, Ryouta-kun." He brushed himself off quickly and picked up his book casually off the table. As the man approached Ryouta, he had to fight back the urge to fall back a step in his presence. The man was uniquely terrifying in a way that Ryouta had never felt before. Once again, he felt an aura of danger around him.

"Shall we, Ryouta-kun?" The man asked again.

He felt slightly invaded with the man knowing his name and him not the same.

"Who are you mister?" Ryouta narrowed his eyes at the stranger.

"My name is Makishima Shogo. I'm interested in you, Ryouta-kun. Perhaps you can show me the splendor of the individual."

"I still have no idea what you're talking about," Ryouta said. He looked back down at the cowering bartender lying on the floor. "But if this interests you, then you must be some kind of twisted." He smirked.

Makishima smiled back before walking towards the exit. "I would rather not run into the MWPSB tonight and I assume you feel the same."

Ryouta nodded. "You're finally making sense, Makishima." Ryouta jogged up to walk beside Makishima. He shifted his bag on his shoulder before slowing down to match Makishima's pace. "Well, I've had my fun."

"There is one more thing." Makishima stopped abruptly. "Would you like to kill him?" He asked this casual as if he were mentioning the weather to a stranger on the street.

Ryouta turned back to the motionless body of the bartender. His lip jutted out as he thought for a moment. "No, not tonight." He intended to mimic Makishima's casual expression but he fell short even to his own ears. Ryouta studied the body of the bartender silently for a moment with a small shake of his head.

"See you later, mister bartender." He said coldly.

Makishima and Ryouta calmly walked out of the bar and into the street. The street sirens were gradually getting louder but it was still early enough that a crowd had not gathered outside. The street was relatively quiet, with few individuals bundled up for warmth. Their heads bent down into their phones, as Makishima and Ryouta quietly blended into the crowd.

They walked silently for a couple blocks without turning back and by then, the drones had already sealed off the area. People had begun forming a crowd around the bar. An ambulance had parked outside as well, and a stretcher rushed into the bar.

Ryouta, uncomfortable with the drawn out silence finally thought they were far enough from the bar. He turned to Makishima who continued walking steadily.

"So how do you expect me to show you the splendor of an individual?" Ryouta asked.

"Don't you think you're quite interesting? Just do whatever you feel is satisfying." Makishima replied simply.

Ryouta thought for a moment. "I do what I do because I like doing it. Does life really get any more complicated than that? Is this what your splendor is? If so, how difficult is it for someone to live in splendor?"

"I wonder that too." Makishima continued walking down the street, eyes facing forward as if in deep thought and enjoyment.

"Say…," Ryouta began. "Do you think Ken will forgive me if I show him my splendor?"

He waited in silence as Makishima continued his way forward. When he was sure that he would not receive an answer, Ryouta sighed. He opted to think back to his night at the bar; the pounding of his head, the shaking of the room, and the adrenaline filled thrill of shattering the glass onto the bartender's face. He sighed deeply, "So this is splendor huh…"

If this was his splendor, perhaps this was what he was meant to be. The two were stopped at a street crossing where Ryouta caught a glimpse of a street scanner out of the corner of his eye. He turned to stare at the street scanner, where it's camera had rotated to face him squarely. Ryouta continued to stare it down, unwilling to blink.

The light turned green and he reluctantly turned away to cross the street with the mob who had gathered around him. Though it was still summer, the brisk Autumn air clung desperately onto his body and he stuffed his hands tightly into his pockets as to shield them from the cold. It was then that he felt the crumpled up bills that he stole from the bar. He had walked a bit ahead of the crowd and Makishima so once he crossed, he stopped to turn back around to wait for him.

As he watched the light flicker red, and Makishima so beautiful and poised walk with the crowd around him, Ryouta's eyes were drawn back to the street scanner from before. Makishima had made his way across the street at this point and had stopped silently beside Ryouta, as if to wait for him. He also turned around to see what had garnered Ryouta's attention. Makishima stared at the street scanner camera as well while Ryouta turned to sneak a glance at Makishima's reaction. A shudder went down his spine when he saw that Makishima was smiling.

"You should smile too. For Sibyl." Makishima said. With that, he turned back around and continued walking forward while Ryouta stood in place.

Ryouta was unsure of what to think. He kept his eyes on the street scanner but found himself more concerned with Makishima's retreating figure. He hurriedly gave the scanner a small smile and turned back around to catch up to Makishima. Together, they continued walking on. The faint sound of sirens fading away into the night they left behind.

A.N.: It has been a long time since I've written a story. This is my first multi-chapter fic so I am even more nervous. I hope to have this story completed by summer's end. I appreciate any and all reviews. I hope you enjoy this story - thank you.

-r48.