Strangers on the Bus

- Crimson Persecution -

By: Lil' Amethyst Angel

Warnings: Blood, Suicidal thoughts, AU, and possible OOC.

Pairings: Slight Subaru/Seishirou

It was dark. The endless blackness caressed and comforted him. The room was silent. The house was quiet. There was no laughing, clanking of dishes, or footsteps echoing from outside the closed bedroom door, as there usually was. No, there was just quiet. He laid in the dark and quiet, seeing nothing and listening to nothing- nothing that was really there anyways. He was seeing and hearing the events of yesterday, which were still vivid in his mind.

He remembered the moment that time froze, the moment that Kotori stared at him with her pleading eyes. He didn't really know what she was begging him for. Was it to save her? But no, Kotori was too selfless to beg for herself. Was she imploring him to look after Fuuma? She knew that fall would hurt her, maybe kill her, and she would want someone to comfort her dear brother. Could it be that was she asking him to not blame himself? But it was his fault, she most of all had to know that.

In that moment when everything seemed to stop, millions of thoughts rushed through his head. Catch her. Grab her hand. Save her. She was so close and yet so very far. He could almost touch her, but she was out of his reach. But he shouldhave caught her. He should have done something, but he didn't do anything. He just stared as the girl tumbled towards the ground like a fallen bird.

And then she was still. Her hazel depths were shrouded as she fell into unconscious. Crimson death framed her head and began to soak into her golden hair. Even so, she looked beautiful, like a fallen angel.

He stood there, then, and admired her in sick fascination. He stood and stared and did not move, did not speak, did not think.

He vaguely remembered running, screaming for help. He saw glimpses of the faces of horrified teachers and students, beginning to surround the girl like ants drawn to honey. Soon the police had arrived and the paramedics. He did not move that whole time, from his place on one of the higher steps. He watched the scene, not really comprehending anything. His eyes stayed focused on her. As she was loaded onto the stretcher and rushed out the door, his eyes remained on her paling face until it disappeared from view, at which point he just gazed at the door she was carried through. Then there were hands, pulling him, people talking to him. What were they saying? He could not remember. The voices eventually stopped asking questions and pushed him into a car. There were glaring lights and high-pitched noises. He was in a police car? Yes, that was right. He could remember more now. He was brought to the station. There were officers who questioned him. He wouldn't talk at first, just stared listlessly and mumbled things like, "my fault", or so he was told. He didn't remember actually anything from the first few hours at the police station. They had apparently brought in a psychiatrist or a councilor or someone of the sort, whom had eventually managed to calm him down. The police had questioned him after that. He told them everything that happened. It was decided that what happened was an accident and he would not be arrested.

He was driven home, but only Karen was there. The others were in their rooms. He remembered how she forced a smile as she thanked the officers and sent Kamui to bed after offering him some dinner (which he politely refused).

He had gone to his room at a little after two o'clock a.m. Only a few hours had passed. It was almost five thirty now.

Kamui laid on his bed, still in his school uniform. His eyes were open, though it did not make a difference as he couldn't see anything in the dark. It didn't matter. Even if the lights were on the only thing he was seeing right then were the memories of the day before, repeating in his mind like he was stuck watching the same movie over and over.

A whole day had passed. Kamui found himself in the same position as the night before- lying in shadows, memories assaulting his mind.

Kamui had left his room only once since he had arrived home the night before. He eventually left his room in the afternoon, when the others had returned from school. He decided not to go that day, and no one questioned him or tried to make him go. His housemates (apart from Ms. Karen, whom was still at the high school) were all sitting around the kitchen table, talking in hushed voices. When Kamui entered the room, everyone immediately stopped talking and looked anywhere and everywhere but at him. It was obvious they were talking about him, but Kamui didn't comment. He grabbed a cup of water and left quickly back to the sanctuary of his room.

He had spent the rest of the day in his room and no one had come to check on him. No one had talked to Kamui (besides Karen when he first came home the night before). This meant that no one had blamed him either. But it didn't matter if they hadn't verbally condemned him. The raven-haired teen saw the looks of disgust his housemates sometimes cast him when they failed to repress them.

Kamui stayed home from school again. He just couldn't deal with going yet. The teen knew hateful glares and words, perhaps even physical attacks, would be shot at him by his peers. By now, everyone in the school would know about what had happened. Rumors and gossip spread faster than a forest fire. It wouldn't help that Kotori was very popular and well-liked. None of the condemnation from the other students would bother Kamui, he knew he deserved it, but Fuuma…having Fuuma hate him was something Kamui couldn't stand. The dark-haired boy smiled sarcastically. It was ironic, really, that he had been trying so hard to get Fuuma to dislike him and distance himself, but now that it actually happened, he was scared. He was terrified of the aspect of not having that friendship to rely on. Even when he had moved away with his mother, knowing that Fuuma and Kotori still cared about them, that he still had that bond with them, comforted him through his worst moments. That bond was broken now and he was the one to break it. It was his fault what happened to Kotori. He pushed her down the stairs. If this is how he protects people it's no wonder those close to him keep dieing. Kamui pushed himself into a sitting position, so he could see himself in the mirror that sat across from him over his dresser. He was slightly pale from having stayed in the dark for so long and from eating very little. His hair was ruffled and close crumpled. He wore faded, baggy jeans with holes in the knees and a black t-shirt that looked too big for him. He didn't look like a trouble-maker. He looked rather small and innocent in the oversized clothes. Looks were deceiving. If Kotori died, Kamui would be a murderer.

Murderer.

The word echoed in Kamui's mind.

Blood.

Flashes of the redness pouring from his mother's wrists, soaking her shirt. 'I couldn't save her. Why couldn't I get there sooner?' Images of his father's face, half-covered in crimson. 'I shouldn't have let him get into that car that day. If he hadn't been rushing to pick me up from school he wouldn't have run that stop sign and crashed. I remember hurrying over to the accident scene, with some other kids who heard the car horns and loud noises. I was told later he died instantly.' Scenes of his friend, Keichi, lying on the road, scarlet spotting his body. 'I should have been able to protect you. I said that I wouldn't let others beat you up anymore.' Pictures of Kotori and her cherry-red halo. 'I did that to you. I promised you that I would always protect you and I caused you all that pain. It's my fault.'

Blood covering all those he cared about.

'All my fault.'

Blood on his hands.

'My fault!'

Blood suffocating him.

Suffocating.

Kamui gasped and jumped up, running out of his room and the house before he becomes lost in his memories and does something he would regret. Kamui ran and ran until he came to a bus stop- his bus stop. He waited there for a few moments, not acknowledging anything or anyone else around him. When the bus arrived he quickly boarded it and took a seat near the back. He spent the rest of the day riding around on it. For some odd reason the bus was like an escape to him. He just sat and watched the scenery go by, watched how the people on the street, and didn't have to really think.

A little while after Kamui had sat down the mysterious young man that he always noticed on this bus, took a set on the left of the isle beside Kamui. He, also, rode the bus for the remainder of the day, like Kamui. Both young men stare out their windows, trying not to think of their morbid lives.

Eventually the sun disappeared, leaving only the faintest tints of pinks and oranges, as deep blues began to color the sky. Kamui finally moved his gaze from his window to the inside of the bus. He felt someone's eyes on him and looked up to find an intense pair or emerald eyes staring into his amethyst orbs.

Subaru was startled slightly when the raven-haired teen turned and met his probing eyes. Subaru couldn't help but stare. He had recognized the boy as someone who had boarded this bus often in the past. He seemed to be a high school student, judging by the uniform he wore in the past. Then that means he should have been in school today, unless, of course, he skipped. But why would any teenager skip school only to ride around on a bus all day? Subaru couldn't really talk, himself. He wasn't skipping school, but he had been riding around on the bus all day, as well, when he could have been doing something else more enjoyable. Subaru always came to this bus to relax and escape his life. When he needed to escape the stinging slaps and cold smirks of his lover he would come to this bus and just stay here for a while. It helped him calm down and clear his head. He guessed that boy was doing the same thing. As he looked into the sparkling amethyst eyes of the boy opposite him, he saw sadness and self-loathing in those revealing depths. What could cause him that pain, Subaru wondered.

Kamui wanted to look away. Oh how he wanted to cast his eyes away so very badly, but he couldn't. He could not break that sudden connection with the man across from him. Kamui felt like his every secret was being revealed. Finally the jade eyes relented as the man stood as the bus came to a stop.

By the time Kamui left the bus it was past dinner time. The others were sure to be home. He entered the house quietly. As he walked down the hall he found Yuzuriha, Sorata, and Arashi sitting in the living room. Nobody was said anything as Kamui passed. Yuzuriha turned her head to face the window, Sorata kept his head bent down, and Arashi fiddled with her sewing in her lap. Kamui ignored the pain caused as they unknowingly twisted the knife in his wound.

It was Friday (1) when Kamui had visited the bus and was penetrated by the stranger's gaze. Kamui spent the weekend in his room, only leaving twice for food. (2) Karen went up once to check on him, as was her duty, but he wouldn't even turn around from facing the wall.

Kamui decided to return to school on Monday. The longer he waited the worse it would be for him when he returned. He left shortly after his house-mates did, so as not to have to confront them.

At school, Kamui kept his head bent and avoided the other students as much as possible. He felt a hint of panic when he heard two male voices coming from down the hall, heading his way. He was stuck with no where to run. Kamui stood at the end of the hall and cringed when he identified the voices.

"-he okay then?" Kamui caught the end of Sorata's sentence.

"Truthfully, I don't know. Father's with Kotori at the hospital right now." Fuuma's voice is unusually downtrodden.

As the two boys turn the corner Kamui sees just how tired and worn his old friend looked. Kamui lowered his head in shame, trying to be discreet and futilely hoping the two basketball players wouldn't notice him.

It is obvious when the exact moment is that Fuuma spots the shorter teen. He let out an angry growl and stalked up to Kamui, so he glowering down at him. A few steps back, Sorata stood tense, not knowing what to do.

"Kotori's in the hospital. She's in a coma." Fuuma staggered on the last word, forcing it out, feeling his tears rise.

Kamui's eyes widen at the news. He was only told by the police that Kotori was not dead, he never considered her being in a coma. He put her into the coma and he was making Fuuma suffer like this. He hated himself even more when he saw the tears in Fuuma's eyes.

"Fuuma, I'm so sorry. I know you'll never be able to forgive me, but please believe me when I say I didn't mean to push her. I swear, I would never hurt her on purpose."

Fuuma laughed coldly, so unlike his usual friendly chuckle.

"But you did do it on purpose. You were cruel to us from the beginning. I know you meant those words, wanted to push her away. Didn't you think what you said hurt her? You did hurt her on purpose."

Kamui shook his head frantically in denial. "No, Fuuma, I didn't want to hurt her. I just didn't want either of you to get close to me. Everyone who is close to me always ends up in pain. I just wanted to keep her safe."

Fuuma snorted. "You did a great job protecting her. So is your idea of protecting someone trying to kill that person?" He hissed.

Kamui stumbled back as if stricken.

"N-no. Please, I didn't mean to. I'm sor-"

Kamui's stuttering was cut off by Fuuma, "Just stay the hell away from me and Kotori."

Kamui tried to fight off the prickling of tears as he hurriedly left, Sorata frowning as he watched the smaller boy leave.

Sorata didn't blame Fuuma for being so harsh. Kamui had, albeit unintentionally, put his sister in the hospital. Sorata knew Kamui was suffering, and, though, he hated to admit it, he couldn't help being angry at Kamui. Sorata had known Kotori. She was such a sweet girl and Kamui had treated her so unkindly, even going as far to physically hurt her (even though that wasn't his goal). Sorata stared at the door the raven-haired boy had left through only moments before. Fuuma hadn't moved. He was standing with his head lowered, trying to calm down. Sorata sighed sadly. He knew the others in the house hadn't talked to Kamui either. No one was really angry at him, or at least they tried not to be, but every one of them blamed Kamui, even if only the slightest bit.

Kamui rushed back to the house and locked himself in his room once again. He thought of the pain reflected in Fuuma's eyes and his angry words, the expected glares sent to him by passing students, and cold words from those more brave. His housemates ignored him as best they could. Even the teachers tried to distance themselves from him.

Kamui pictured Kotori and her warm smile. The image quickly faded and was replaced with her bloody figure, silently accusing him.

"Nezumi didn't even have to do anything." Kamui chuckled darkly.

As much as Kamui tried to think of something else, the image stuck in his mind, his fallen angel persecuting him, blaming him. He looked at the shirt he had worn that day. There were still specks of blood littered upon it in a silent testament of what had occurred. His gaze fell to his hands; the hands which were stained with Kotori's blood. His pale hands began to shake violently. He started to rub and scratch and claw at them. The angry red marks stood out against the fine white of his skin.

"I hurt everyone I love. I end up spilling their blood." The teen absently mumbled. "I need to protect them- protect them from myself."

Only now did Kamui realize that he had grabbed the letter opener off of his desk. The raven-haired youth stared at the shiny object intently. Without even thinking he dug it into the skin of his arm, and is met with a sharp pain. He stopped. He shouldn't do this. He knew he shouldn't do this. It's cowardly. It won't solve anything, only cause more pain and inconvenience to whoever would find him. Anyway, living would provide him with the suffering he deserved. Slowly, realization of what he had done and was about to do dawned on the teenager. He dropped the blood-spattered blade and ran.

To Be Continued

1) Yes, I know, students in Japan go to school on Saturday, but I'm basically making this like an American high school (which mean no school on Saturday) since I don't really know how to properly write about one in Japan.

2) Kamui probably would have to leave more than twice (to use the bathroom and all, but…well, let's just not count those, okay? Ehehe…)

Author's Note: I just wanted to mention that in the first few paragraphs I didn't use Kamui's name on purpose. I thought it sounded better without really confirming who the character was, even thought it was obvious as the paragraphs went on. Meh, it's just my style I guess. Oh, there will be more Subaru and Seishirou soon, but not in the next chapter (but Subaru will definitely have a part in the next chapter). Sorry I didn't get to focus much on the other characters, but I wanted to devote this chapter to Kamui.