Hizumi's Side by: Kounellii
Kou's comments: Summer break has finally started for me. So it's pretty weird to be writing about Hizumi in class. Kanone, Eyes, and Kiyotaka will be appearing too, to fill up the gap of where and what they've been doing before that lead to the events in v5+ (that was your spoiler warning)=D
Disclaimer: The above mentioned characters belong to Kyo Shirodaira and Eita Mizuno of Spiral ~Suiri no Kizuna. I just own this story. "To Hope" by John Keats.
-+Cheshire Cat Is+-
The lilac curtains rose up a little with the breeze. There were still crease marks that formed rows of perfect rectangles along each curtain. Now he saw why the curtains were so stiff and didn't reach up so high.
Just out of their package I see, thought the young man.
The visitor (or perhaps intruder) approached the open sliding glass window. He closed it since his shoulders were too wide to fit through the narrow frame. Although he probably could still, but it would be a tight squeeze. A sigh issued from him. He really wanted to lean out and rest his elbows on the window sill.
The young man parted the curtains though. He needed something to do while he waited.
Coming up the dusty carpeted stairwell was the boy he was waiting for. Hizumi climbed up slowly, so as not to kick up too much dust. A little he could deal with.
He passed a few rooms, some whose doors were open, revealing what its' occupants were doing. Some students were with their friends. They were crowding around a small TV watching football. Others were sharing snacks and beers, leaving their door open to air out their room.
They're really not afraid to get caught eh?, remarked Hizumi to himself in slight amusement.
After all, alcohol of any form was not allowed on campus or at the dorms for that matter. But it was one of those rules that students didn't care to follow. Hardly anyone gets reported unless someone gets rowdy.
Hizumi pulled his key out and inserted it into the plain beige door. He shared a room with no one. He paid for the whole dorm room which was more than double the cost. Just for fun, he hung up a sign on the door that read, "Live in your world and I'll play in mine." His version of the PlayStation motto.
He pushed the door open, squinting his yellow eyes from the late morning sunshine from the window opposite him.
"Ohayo gozaimasu, Hizumi-kun!"
At the mention of his name, his eyes darted toward the source. Hizumi frowned, resting his hand on the doorknob. The young genius's senses were usually pretty sharp.
But it did him no good against that man.
He sighed. Hizumi returned the greeting in Japanese.
"Yo Kiyotaka! I thought we agreed you would come over next Wednesday."
Hizumi stated the latter rather than raised it as a polite question. His memory never fails him. The young boy stuck his lower lip out, pretending to pout playfully like a child to mask his real feelings of the detective.
He wanted to stab him alright.
Kiyotaka wasn't fooled at all. He smiled knowingly, taking in the appearance of his short-lived nemesis' clone. There was no way that Hizumi approved Kiyotaka invading his personal space. Even if everything he owned was paid for by Yaiba's questionably-acquired money.
The great Yaiba Mizushiro never left a will. It was only due to Kiyotaka's smooth-talking with the authorities that enabled his older brother's possessions to pass onto him. Hizumi wasn't in the slightest bit grateful toward him though. Just a keen sense of hatred is all.
It must run in the family.
"Isn't there a Hurley hat that went together with your outfit?" asked Kiyotaka playfully.
He sat in Hizumi's red bean chair, with his cheek resting against the palm of his hand.
Kiyotaka observed with some interest how Hizumi didn't even react to his suggestion. Of course he knew, the other was already adding up what it meant.
Hizumi casually leaned back on his elbows onto the bed, the back of his hair brushing the wall. He angled his face in Kiyotaka's direction, which made the younger boy look just a little sassy.
"So you're checking my credit card charges… among other things, am I right? My grades have been looking good so far y'know. I deserve some rewards."
"Of course we are. But the only reason I asked my 'gears' to check was because Yaiba's accountant informed me of your purchase of a round-trip plane ticket," and Kiyotaka's dark gray eyes met Hizumi's, "to England."
He shrugged, feigning innocence. Kiyotaka laughed.
"Nice try using my name though, Hizumi-kun! But for future reference, I would never touch your brother's money."
"Ah, so even you don't desire the guilt of staining my brother's money with his own blood," mocked Hizumi with an air of malice.
The older man's sheepish smile changed to one of sternness.
Kiyotaka closed his eyes as he spoke, "I never wanted to kill him if that's what you believed. It was nothing personal. But I wonder Hizumi-kun. Did you notice that ever since you met me 3 years ago*, you'd bring up Yaiba. And each time you spoke as if you were defending him..."
Hizumi's pupils dilated within his yellow irises. He looked at his brother's killer in genuine shock. The detective knew he succeeded in putting the younger boy back in his place. Kiyotaka opened his eyes. The gesture seemed to bring Hizumi back to his senses.
"I do not defend him! You and I both know why I bring him up," he retorted slyly. He pointed at Kiyotaka's hands.
"Because when anyone mentions his name it makes you look at your hands. Those life-stealing hands with a guilt-ridden face."*
A grimace elapsed over Kiyotaka's face.
"So you admit to exploiting your brother's death, is that it?"
The detective stretched his upper body before leaning forward onto his knees. He yawned. The other still didn't answer. Hizumi's face was hidden by his bangs, though his hands were clearly locked into fists. Silence thankfully didn't fill the air. A familiar song played from a few rooms down.
After the first verse, Hizumi recognized the song as "Ships in a Bottle"* by a musician known in certain circles as Butch Walker. He recalled from the news that the artist recorded the song weeks before the California wild fires that burnt up his house and belongings. The most ominous part of the lyrics came up:
"Just wanna walk away from the ashes
And take the fact that I've been burned
And maybe let you know I'm still standin'
If you miss it again, miss it again, I'm around"
He closed his eyes as he let the somber tune ease away the tension in his body. I should remember to buy his album.
Hizumi knelt down by his bed, his baggy cargo pants the same color as the carpet: burgundy. He pulled up his long sleeves. He reached under and dragged out an opened box of fruit roll-ups.
He was unwilling, but he played the good host anyway. Hizumi took out a strawberry flavored roll and tilted the open flaps in Kiyotaka's direction.
But the latter declined the offer with a shake of his hand.
He tossed the fruit roll-ups box onto his Harley Davidson bedspread.
"Well, so what? I just wanted to meet Rutherford again*! He's got a nice mansion," whined Hizumi as he resumed their conversation. Pointedly ignoring the part about Yaiba.
"Can't Uncle Hizumi play a nice game of tag with his nephew?"
Kiyotaka raised an eyebrow at him.
"It depends on what you mean by a game of tag, Hizumi-kun. Besides, Eyes-kun is older than you and never plays kiddie games. Probably prefers to take a stroll. Or you could write some sheet music together! A harmonica accompanying a piano."
"Nah, I'm sure he'll play tag with his dear Uncle when his big brother joins us."
A few withering leaves crackled as they tumbled by on the autumn breeze. The trees were mostly bare now, getting ready for winter.
Eyes wrapped his navy blue scarf around his neck, fitting snugly beneath his short white hair. It was part of his uniform with the matching blazer and gray slacks. But he quit school a billion years ago… since his mother passed away.*
He checked the sky again. Young Eyes paused. Then he shook his head as if to say no to the sky, hoping that he wouldn't get caught out in the rain like a stray cat.
He walked briskly along the sidewalk. The wall of the cemetery finally coming closer to him. The walls were starkly white with black bars.
Much like the keys of a piano. A sardonic smile emerged on his face.
To be reminded of the piano by a cemetery wall of all things, thought Eyes disgustedly.
Then the tall black gate appeared. The entrance. Poor Eyes looked like a child locked out of school. But it wasn't locked, no. It was too early for that.
His expression, though usually nonchalant, took on a forlorn look. Eyes continued walking quietly along the stone path.
Off in the distance, he saw a few mourners scattered at different graves. The Rutherford family plot was a bit further. He climbed a short flight of stairs and passed a few deceased Rutherford family members. His black oxfords stopped just short of his mother.
He glanced around quickly. A slight gleam of expectation in his eyes, then it disappeared.
He tugged his pants a little so that the seams wouldn't burst at the knees as he squatted low before his mother's grave. Eyes looked over her headstone. His pristine blue eyes ran over the words blindly, as if chasing some obscure meaning he found in them.
Eyes spoke.
"Mother, I walked all the way here… I didn't want for you to be alone on your first death anniversary."
The wind roared in his ears. Stands of hair fluttered in the cold breeze. But he wasn't bothered in the least. Eyes reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper.
"Won't you read it aloud for us?" asked a warm voice.
Eyes turned his head to the side with something of a relieved smile. Kanone adjusted himself and bent down on one knee.
"Of course. How else would Mother be able to hear me?" he answered, turning away from Kanone and back to the headstone. He was able to take deep and calming breaths now that his brother was here.
Kanone nodded. With his brown leather gloved hands, he adjusted his green plaid scarf to endure the cold while Eyes read his tribute, "To Hope."
"When by my solitary hearth I sit,
And hateful thoughts enwrap my soul in gloom;
When no fair dreams before my 'mind's eye' flit,
And the bare heath of life presents no bloom;
Sweet Hope, ethereal balm upon me shed,
And wave thy silver pinions o'er my head!
Whene'er I wander, at the fall of night,
Where woven boughs shut out the moon's bright ray,
Should sad Despondency my musings fright,
And frown, to drive fair Cheerfulness away,
Peep with the moonbeams through the leafy roof,
And keep that fiend Despondence far aloof!
Should Disappointment, parent of Despair,
Strive for her son to seize my careless heart;
When, like a cloud, he sits upon the air,
Preparing on his spell-bound prey to dart:
Chase him away, sweet Hope, with visage bright,
And fright him as the morning frightens night!
Whene'er the fate of those I hold most dear
Tells to my fearful breast a tale of sorrow,
O bright-eyed Hope, my morbid fancy cheer;
Let me awhile thy sweetest comforts borrow:
Thy heaven-born radiance around me shed,
And wave thy silver pinions o'er my head!
Should e'er unhappy love my bosom pain,
From cruel parents, or relentless fair;
O let me think it is not quite in vain
To sigh out sonnets to the midnight air!
Sweet Hope, ethereal balm upon me shed,
And wave thy silver pinions o'er my head!
In the long vista of the years to roll,
Let me not see our country's honour fade:
O let me see our land retain her soul,
Her pride, her freedom; and not freedom's shade.
From thy bright eyes unusual brightness shed-
Beneath thy pinions canopy my head!
Let me not see the patriot's high bequest,
Great Liberty! how great in plain attire!
With the base purple of a court oppress'd,
Bowing her head, and ready to expire:
But let me see thee stoop from heaven on wings
That fill the skies with silver glitterings!
And as, in sparkling majesty, a star
Gilds the bright summit of some gloomy cloud;
Brightening the half veil'd face of heaven afar:
So, when dark thoughts my boding spirit shroud,
Sweet Hope, celestial influence round me shed,
Waving thy silver pinions o'er my head!"
Eyes' voice filled with emotion, yet no tears escaped. The two solitary boys bowed together in silence.
* ref notes in order as they appeared above
-My bro introduced me to Butch Walker's music. True story about his song in his music video;)
-v15 c74
-v14 c70
-Hizumi met Rutherford before he met Kanone. Eyes looked about 12/13 (v11 p188, v09 p121-122)
-He looked about 14 back then. Every time I look at the scene, it'd feel like October (v05)
EXTRA: My fave part of that poem was the 3rd and 4th verses since it related so much to their curse and what Eyes always wished for. This was a bit of a downer but I promise to liven things up a bit in next chap, Hizumi's meeting with Kanone. Please review!