Title: The Dark Role
By: Sei-chan-1999
Spoilers: Just before the start of Volume 14.
Rating: T (for mentions of drugs as well as mild violence/implied violence)
Summary: On a day that holds significance only for him, Subaru Sumeragi plays a dark role opposite to Kamui in a tortured pageant of his own.
Warnings: This will be dark. SubKam and implied SeiSub.
Disclaimer: All rights to Clamp. All characters belong to them. God, this always makes me wonder what I've accomplished in my life.
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Ritualistic Translation of Age:
A not very widely recognized psychological phenomena in which individuals passing into a certain milestone age, attempt to consciously alter their ideals or model their behavior and thought processes to match those of another individual who has crossed that age, in order to 'be' the other person as they were at that age.
The process has an immense danger of becoming addictive, self-consuming and it blatantly disregards the individuality of a person at a certain age. It can lead to loss of identity, abuse and is considered a controversial way of following a superior or a role model.
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He couldn't help noticing that when he came to Kamui's bedside, the tears stopped and his sleep grew calmer. It touched him.
It disturbed him.
But he would be careful to let neither emotion show. Or, he could combine the two to get concern; a reasonable emotion that would feel right and fit the situation, once the younger boy pulled free from the chain of sedatives, amnesiacs and anesthetics to wake up at last.
Yes, that would be the perfect emotion to show.
This wasn't him.
Subaru Sumeragi had never had to play with his own feelings before like he was molding paints and dabbing around them on a filthy palette to get what he wanted. And he'd never certainly done it in front of Kamui.
When he was with him, he had never felt the need to be someone else. With Kamui, he wasn't 'Sumeragi-sama, the 13th head of the Onmyouji clan' or 'Sumeragi-san' or even 'Subaru-san'. He was just simply himself. Kamui had effortlessly torn down the multiple shields he'd pulled over himself over the last nine years to reveal him for what he truly was.
Now, to be wondering what would look right and what wouldn't…it felt sacrilegious.
He'd always taken it willingly that Kamui would accept him for whom he was.
His breathing became more rapid and he realized that his heart was pounding while his head was beginning to ache and his hands were moist. He wiped his palms on the rough denim of his jeans, but seconds later, the wetness returned.
That should've been clear enough a sign to end this whole thing before he had even formally begun to do what he had intended to do to Kamui in that room, but he refused to let himself give in.
Instead, to give himself room to compose himself, he turned away from where he was standing over the unconscious boy and turned his head to face the wide open door of the room.
From over twenty feet away, the huge wood barrier slammed shut and locked itself with a click. He tested it with his mind alone to make sure it would hold.
The door didn't budge.
It would hold.
Whatever happened in this room would remain between them only and even then, it was something Kamui would never remember taking part in.
He was ready to stake his life on that fact. But just to confirm it once again and avoid any mistakes due to his rashness, he picked up the clipboard lying on Kamui's bedside table and let his eyes flick over the list of medicines he'd been injected with and their dosage. He suppressed a sure of feeling when he remembered how he exactly knew their hard-to-pronounce English names and properties.
No, he would not think of that now.
He took a deep breath and was angry with himself when he felt how shaky the intake of air was and took note of the fact that his hands were slippery again.
This was unacceptable.
He turned his attention to Kamui.
The sixteen-year-old was fast asleep, sprawled on his stomach with his head turned to one side as he breathed slowly, his limbs pulled close towards himself. The sheets came up to his shoulders and he was obviously uncomfortable since his hair was slick with sweat, his shirt was stained from what he could see of it and there was a frown on his face.
Kamui looked for the entire world like an uneasy toddler who'd been forcefully put down for a nap after throwing a huge tantrum and misbehaving himself.
It was childishly cute.
No. Never.
That was wrong. He was sixteen.
Kamui had no right, no reason to look like that. Why had such a treacherous thought even come to his mind?
But then, he had no right to pass judgments on the ideal appearances of sixteen-year-olds.
Subaru stepped even closer to Kamui and watched his shadow enclose the boy's upper body in darkness. He pulled the sheets down to Kamui's hips, exposing his back and waited for a few minutes, until his heart stopped throbbing inside him so much that it was hard to even form a single rational thought in his mind. He checked the door once again.
His headache started to intensify.
And all because of the teenager who lay helpless and vulnerable beneath his gaze.
For one second…a flash of lightning in a darkening violet sky that disappeared even before its shape could be fully perceived…he hated Kamui. Then, he was drowned under a wave of horror and helpless loathing aimed at himself.
No. Go back and correct it. That was wrong too.
He didn't feel anything at all. Nothing at all.
He used both hands to grip one of Kamui's bent arms lying on the bed and squeezed it tightly, making sure to grip it tightly and dig his nails in a little, feeling soft flesh give way to his abuse.
A little more pushing and he would draw blood.
The pain in his head began to spread across his whole skull and his stomach began to roil a little.
He carefully pulled the heavy and dead arm over Kamui's upper back but then realized that the position wasn't right and changed it quickly, favoring to drag it out straight and held it over the bed, twisting the arm in two opposite ways at once.
Yes. That felt correct. That was it. Boy. Child. A worthless thing. Face down. Arm suspended from behind.
The arm of an object that meant nothing to him.
He was beginning to feel distinctly nauseous.
Subaru started to guide its arm into the wrong direction, watching the sleeve of its perspiration soaked night shirt get creased, lines being born and warping themselves on the starched cotton as it slept on, unaware until the final break arrived. It was getting it easier than he had and he increased his strength.
Even in sleep, it went along with his desires willingly.
Subaru's watch began to beep.
He looked down at the sleeping figure, mustering up contempt and trying to lose himself within scorn. He stared down blankly at it.
The watch kept shrieking.
It still didn't stir, even though its arm was three invisible inches away from being broken. Subaru bore down, nearly on top of it, trying to bring himself to do the deed.
All it would take was one movement of his wrists; no one would notice anything odd. It was just another injury on its delicate and already ravaged body.
The watch was insistent, the electronic chimes getting faster and higher in frequency, aligning itself to the pulse of heated blood rushing through his aching head with painful jerks, making him dizzy and unsteady. He could feel saliva gathering at the back of his throat, defying gravity from within his body.
Subaru abruptly dropped Kamui's arm, where it fell to the bed's mattress, bouncing once before coming to a total stop, his palm still awkwardly facing upwards.
Subaru stepped back, fighting the urge to vomit.
And then, the impossible came into being.
Kamui opened his eyes.
Not real. He'd checked the dosage himself. Kamui still had another four hours till he should've actually awakened.
This was just a freak accident. He wouldn't remember anything at all. Subaru forced himself to relax.
Violet eyes, disoriented, found green.
"What did you do to me?"
Subaru flinched and grabbed the sharp corner of the table for support, piercing the center of his palm against the edge by accident while doing so.
Kamui wasn't angry; just confused, dazed and in pain. His eyes were watering a little but he was alert and didn't look away.
He remembered.
The watch was still going strong.
Subaru ripped it brutally off his wrist, hurled it to the floor and brought his boot down upon it, shattering the device. The beeping died with a squeak as he kicked the shards of glass and metal beneath Kamui's bed.
The sixteen-year-old huddled into himself at the sudden show of violence but waited. Fear had joined the unholy congregation of emotions on his face.
Subaru went over to Kamui and pulled him upright by his uninjured arm into a tight embrace. Kamui gasped when his broken ribs were jarred and Subaru knew that the next time he tried to sit up, it would be absolute agony for him, but he didn't want to let go.
"I'm sorry," he said into Kamui's ear. He felt Kamui opening his mouth to say something, maybe ask him why, but Subaru didn't let him speak.
"Please forgive me," he whispered softly, holding Kamui a little tighter. The boy tentatively returned the hug but winced.
"My arm hurts," he complained softly and Subaru noticed that he was slurring his words. Good. It wouldn't be long before they were separated and sleep had taken Kamui for itself again.
"I'm so sorry," he repeated, unable to do anything else to get rid of the disgust that filled in every part of him, making him want to kill himself right there.
He rocked Kamui until he was sound asleep again, his feverish head leaning against Subaru's collarbone and lowered him back into bed, covering him fully with the sheets despite the heat. He took one of Kamui's hands in his own, stroking the fingers carefully as he waited for him to wake for real.
He could breathe again. His headache was gone. He unlocked the closed door with just a gesture from a trembling arm before he focused on Kamui again, this time with nothing within himself except for the affection that he had never actually destroyed. It was a pathetic way to atone for what he had nearly done, but it was better than nothing.
Kamui wouldn't remember this incident. He didn't need to. It was for him alone; a lesson that he had learned well on his special day.
The watch had gone off for a reason at that particular time; he'd set it himself, after all.
It was February 19th, 1999.
At last, Subaru Sumeragi was twenty-five years old.
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Author's Note: So, this is not your typical Subaru/Kamui fanfic but please let me know if anyone seemed OOC and I will try to correct it.
I wanted to do a dark and angst-infected fanfic with both SubKam and SeiSub in so this is what I came up with.
Please read/review/drop me a comment about how you felt this to be. I would sincerely do the same for you. We writers live off of this stuff and the happiness a review gives us is enough to guarantee you a special place in Heaven.