I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness
--Allen Ginsberg
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(Yami~4)
Yami no Amasa
You're so beautiful.
Ken whimpered and turned his head away from the window, burying his face against his mother's arm. The lights were too bright; they hurt his eyes. The whiteness was burning against his retinas and behind his skull, the artificial electric glare from a thousand eyes blazed off the white walls, the naked window frames, off the skirts and shoes and sweaters of the nurses as they hurried across the dull tiled floor. The world was loud and bright and ugly and unbearably painful to behold.
He dug his fingers into Mama's shirt. He was afraid he might be hurting her, he could feel the bones in her arm where his fingers pressed, but he couldn't seem to pull away. He wanted someone to sing to him, sing a lullaby the way Mama used to do, and stroke his hair and say that everything was going to be alright. He wanted to cover his ears but was afraid to let go, and because of that he could hear the sounds of voices, of all the people around him, whispering and murmuring words just on the edge of understanding. Were they talking about him?
They were talking about him.
He'd been trying to think of ways to make it stop, to make the words stop. To make the noise go away. Whenever he went outside there was noise, but even when he stayed inside he could hear someone talking. Sometimes the words were loud, sometimes quiet, sometimes a scream that drowned out all other sound. He never turned the computer on anymore but it didn't seem to matter; the words came through the screen anyway, flashing in the darkness, words that were not really words at all but things that were part of the air and the walls. Textures he would be able to feel if he only reached out to touch. And now the words had followed him here.
You're so beautiful.
He shivered.
"Ken, honey?"
He pulled away.
"God, shut up," he moaned, pressing his hands to his ears. Only the words were in English and no-one could understand. He could hear his voice, why was he speaking English?
"Ken, daijoubu?"
"Stop it stop it stop it leave me alone please leave me alone...." He slid to the floor and covered his head with his arms, rocking back and forth. He could hear it.
You're perfect, Ken, you're beautiful. Can't I get a picture of you? You'll always be perfect.
I love you.
"Love you," he whispered.
"Ken," Arms wrapped around him, pulled him upright. He felt himself being moved, he stumbled forward blindly into darkness.
Do you love me?
Of course not.
"Kiite no, Ken-chan? Mou, me o sagashite."
"Mama..." he reached out, felt his hands pressed, felt himself drawn into an embrace. He kept his eyes squeezed shut in fear of what he would see. When someone started to sing it took him quite a while to realize that it wasn't his mother's voice at all.
beautiful stars
"Mm," he turned his head away from the warmth so he could hear more clearly.
of love
shining from heaven above
bidding the world to look
that way
It was so beautiful.
beautiful stars
of a wondrous love
"Ken? Can you hear me?"
He pulled away and opened his eyes.
i'm singing stars
"I hear..." he breathed.
radiance is the glow
over the earth below
They were alone in an alove, away from the eyes of the patients and nurses. He looked at the wall, at the shadows that crawled there, at the whiteness behind the shadows.
filling the earth
"I'm scared, Mama," he whispered. "I don't know what to do...."
"I know, honey. That's why we're here. The doctor will know--"
Beyond the voice was a noise, a silver sound, a keening like water spilled on thread. Like quicksilver on a surface, mercury running over cloth, splitting and breaking and joining together, moving like a live thing.
Breaking apart.
filling
earth
light
stars
stars stars
He could hear a guitar played at the edge of hearing, ragged chords tortured into a single note, a note as hard as steel. Grey and red, metal and blood. An opened and wounded mouth.
singing
beautiful filling the earth
light scattering
night
of the night
"Doctors don't know anything," he hissed suddenly, sharply, pulling away altogether and dropping his hands into his lap. He stared at them, pale appendages twitching like spiders, things with a will of their own. Ugly. He raised his eyes.
"I don't want to see the doctor," he said.
"You have to."
His hands twitched but he allowed the woman to pull him to his fete and guide him back to the waiting area.
"I don't want to see the doctor."
"You have to. Things aren't right with you--"
"What, just because I dropped the phone? Is that such a problem?" He looked away, anywhere but at her. He couldn't focus; he was looking around at the other people, at all the people, their shining hair and the colors of their clothes.
She put her hand on his arm.
"I know you're scared--"
"I'm not scared!" He jerked his arm away. "Good God." He flung himself into a chair and scowled up at the woman. "I'll wait. Alright? We'll see the Goddamned doctor and then we'll leave. Any problem with that?" He ignored the noise of the other people, he could hear them talking. What's wrong with that boy? He's weak, you know he's weak.
His mouth hardened.
"I'm not weak," he growled.
The woman stared at him.
"All right, Ken," she said after several moments of silence had passed. Ken tried not to turn his head in the direction of the people, tried to keep his gaze focused on the woman. Tried. "We'll go then. After you see the doctor, we'll leave.
He raised his chin and met her eyes.
"Good."
**
She stared at her son.
His hands were twitching. Or not twitching, really, but moving, constantly, he was tapping the thumb of one hand rapidly against the back of the other. He was lookind around, his head twitched from side to side, his eyes seemed to be seeking something they couldn't find. Sometimes he reached up to swipe at a strand of hair fallen across his face, and then she would see that his hand was shaking. He would press it against his cheek, touching his face, move it in a way that made her think he wasn't even aware that he was touching it.
"It's getting worse again," she'd said to the doctor. "I'm afraid something's going to happen and this time no-one will be around. I'm afraid to leave him at home alone. When I go to work I'm terrified for him."
He'd dropped his hands now, to his legs, and was rubbing his knees anxiously and gazing around in a vague sort of way. She saw his lips move, once, barely, but he made no sound.
"I can't protect him forever. Something has to be done."
"Ken," she tried, as she always did, because she could only reach out to him, she could never say anything but his name. His head jerked in her direction and briefly his eyes were wide and terrified. He was staring past her and the light reflected off his irises.
"I'm not weak!" He said hoarsely.
"Mrs. Ichijouji, it may be time to consider more some more drastic measures for your son."
"Ken!" She grabbed his chin and squeezed, until he inhaled sharply and his eyes focused suddenly on her.
"I'm not," he whispered, trembling. "I'm not."
"You're not drugging him."
"I'd like to see him again, and order up some new tests. Can you come today?"
With a smile cry he pulled out of her grasp and turned away, his hair falling across his face.
"Ichijouji?"
The nurse was standing in the doorway with a clipboard in her hand.
"The doctor will see you now."
**
"So this is it?"
"Pretty much, yeah."
Miyako raised an eyebrow at the screen.
"Wow," was all she said.
"Can you get me in?"
She stared at her black polished nails, then drummed them on the desk. She said, "Yeah, maybe. In time. If I can put together something to decrypt that thing, I might be able to break through. It could take days, though. Don't forget who we're dealing with here." She sighed heavily. "Damn, I wish I had Koushirou here to help."
"I believe in you, Miyako."
She looked up at Daisuke, who gave her an encouraging smile. In spite of herself she felt a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.
"Such a sweet talker, you," she said, letting the smile spread fully across her face. "You realize if I don't get this thing you could be blipped out of existence during transition, or worse?"
"What's worse?"
She stuck her tongue out.
"Nasty effects. You could get third-degree burns on the insides of your body. Your skin could be ripped clean off your body. You...could go insane. The things Ken's computer can do to your brain..." she shook her head. "I don't want to send you unless I know you have a hundred percent chance of surviving intact."
The young man had gone increasingly pale beneath his naturally dark complexion as Miyako continued to speak. Now he bit his lip and shot her sidelong glances. Finally, in a voice that barely trembled, he said, "Well, I have faith in you."
Miyako smiled.
"Daisuke, can I ask you one thing before we get started?" She said, turning back to the computer screen, facing the ominous layer of encrypted code that stared back at her from the window of the Digital World. She didn't look at Daisuke when he said, "Well yeah, sure."
She asked, "Did you love him?"
There was silence for a while, though not very long, and when Daisuke spoke his voice was calm, and simple, and strong.
"Of course I did," he said.
**
The car seemed cold.
Ken had his eyes closed, and his lips were parted slightly. Mrs. Ichijouji didn't try to talk to her son this time, just drove the car in silence and tried not to look at him. Occasionally she saw his lips move and once she heard what sounded like words, but they were words that meant nothing to her, in a language she did nt recognize. Perhaps it was English.
"I've already lost one son, then a husband. Ken is the only family I have left. He was fine for a while, but now...I'm afraid I'm going to lose him too."
Dr. Yasuhara was a gentle man, and one of few doctors the woman felt she could truly trust. He made no attempt to assuage her fears with false hopes, and because of that Mrs. Ichijouji was feeling a sensation that was all too familiar to her: the cold bite of fear.
"I realize your concern, Ma'am, but sometimes there are no other options--"
"You are not drugging my son!"
"Mrs. Ichijouji, I do appreciate your concerns. But you must consider what is best for Ken. He is not living a full life, or even a healthy life. He is ill, Mrs. Ichijouji, and your desire to protect him is only causing him harm. Now I will also say that medication is not really a viable option at this point, but should be something that you come to terms with and are willing to consider, should the need arise."
They came to an intersection, and stopped. Mrs. Ichijouji clenched her hands around the steering wheel and shut her eyes. A headache was starting up behind her eyes and she prayed that it would not turn into a full-blown migraine. She couldn't afford to be bed-ridden for days, not now. She offered a quiet prayer to Kwannon and took a deep breath.
She heard movement and opened her eyes.
Ken was sitting forward with his eyes wide, staring through the windshield. She looked at him, then followed his gaze, saw the birds on the wires.
"Ken...."
"Mama," he whispered, "Look. Mama, look," he stretched out a hand toward the glass. "Birds," he breathed.
"We should consider the possibility of a tumor."
"Tumor? Are you saying Ken has cancer?"
"Of course not. But we should rule out a possible physical cause before we move on to psychiatric options."
"What happens if we don't find anything physical?"
"Then I'd like you to consider the possibility of institutionalization--"
"Absolutely not."
"Birds," he said again, and he smiled. Tears filled his eyes and ran down his cheeks, silver tracks in the sunlight.
"Absolutely not."
"--at least for a brief time, for observation."
"Ken," she reached out, but suddenly he wasn't there anymore.
"Ken!" She screamed as he slipped through the open door.
She scrambled. The light was about to change, all the cars were stopped, all four points were still, like armies held in check, waiting in the brilliant sunlight. Silence filled the air. The light was going to change. No-one was moving.
Ken walked into the intersection.
"Ken, no!" She ran. She knew everyone could see them --let them stop, sweet Kwannon let them stay!-- and she could see a few faces behind glass, see the look of stunned surprise.
There were cars coming, she could hear the sounds of movement. The light changed, they wouldn't stop. She ran, in her sensible slip-on shoes, to her son who was staring at the birds as they all launched themselves into the air and surged upward, and she saw him tilt his head back and his hair caught the light and the wind and she could see a car coming, plowing forward.
already lost one son
She hit him bodily, pushing him, then grabbed his arm and dragged him to the sidewalk, even as she heard car doors slam and footsteps come running. Ken was alright. He was okay. But people had seen, and now there would be questions. And her car was sitting in the lane with the door hanging open and the engine running. She could feel herself shaking all over.
"Birds, Mama."
She fell to her knees, clutching him. She knew he didn't even know she was there. She was shaking and Ken was on his knees too, because he didn't know where he was or what was happening, and had let himself be pulled down when she fell. She held him and squeezed her eyes shut and started to sob.
"You won't be able to protect him forever."
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