Thanks my most precious readers for sticking with me for so long. Finally, here is the chapter where Komui loses everything. Its written a bit jumbled to reflect his state of mind. Everything will be explained in time. I hope you all enjoy. There are some mild references to adult subject matter, but nothing more than references.
Komui was elbow deep in gore. It slicked down the front of his brown coat, adding to the other myriad of stains. His sleeves were rolled up as he worked. He had moved the injured Finder to the table so he didn't have to strain his back bending down. "Damn it…" he mumbled. The man had been impaled. The Akuma had knocked him aside like a doll and he landed at just the right angle. It took an hour to remove the thin tree branch. It looked much worse than it was; it was more a stick than anything else. At least, that was how Komui was treating it. It had gone through neatly; puncture wounds always healed nicely. He wasn't worried, just a bit grumpy.
"Oh God, oh God, oh God…" The third Finder of his party was chanting in a terrified voice. He had helped carry the body, and then panic took him. There was blood everywhere. The man was useless with fear, hovering over Komui's shoulder and making a nuisance of himself.
"Shut up!" Komui finally snapped at him. He smacked him hard for emphasis, flinging blood from his fingertips. "You want him to die?!" he plunged his hand back into the wound. He found the artery that had torn. His talented fingers were keeping the man from bleeding out. "Get my bag already! If he dies, it's your fault for being so useless!" Komui was confident he would live if he could get him stitched up properly. He made a little frustrated sound and glanced to the Exorcist he had been assigned to; she offered no help, just stared as he worked. He didn't expect her to. He hated her; he hated them all.
Petrova was the reason the Black Order accepted him. He saved her life. She requested him personally as her Finder. She glared at him from where she leaned in the door frame. She was mad; she was almost as mad as Komui. They hated each other; they were lovers. He adored the insanity in her eyes; he was going to kill her, if she didn't kill him first.
Useless finally brought him his medical bag. Komui happily pulled out his bundle of tools. He laughed cheerfully and went to work, carefully cleaning and rebuilding the hole in the body before him. Only when he was working did he find peace, even then he sang and laughed to himself. His hands were steady and confident.
The Order had rejected him at first. They tried him as a Finder; he was reckless, quick to anger and unpredictable. They couldn't have someone so unstable. They told him he was a danger to himself and others. They told him he was mad. He didn't take no for an answer; he camped by the front door of the Asian Branch. He worked too hard to get there. It had taken months to find them; all he had to go on was a name in a foreign tongue, and given to him out of pity.
Komui had only been home for three wonderful weeks when his world shattered.
Everything had started out well. Away from the school, Xiang found his voice. He smiled more and Komui began to relax. It was possible to touch him and kiss him without the powerful sense of guilt weighing him down. They were free here. Lenalee was always close by and quick to steal his attention. Xiang doted on her to the point of making Komui jealous. Komui's universe shrunk to his best friend and his most precious little sister. Everything was about them.
Together with Father, they measured out a parcel of land where Xiang would build his future home. He would oversee a portion of the Lee Family's fields and live as a retainer to the main house. Planning out the future seemed to take him away from the hopelessness of the present.
Lenalee was a true treasure. Xiang called her 'Little Wife.' Together the boys practically kidnapped her from Mother's side. Everyday Komui sat and studied in the shade of the trees while she played with Xiang. And everyday she would cry for her big brother to save her from being tickled. Komui happily intervened and took her place. Xiang's tickling always led to kissing, which led to Lenalee pouting until she was allowed to shower them both with her innocent, childish kisses.
In the privacy of his room, Komui lavished Xiang with attention. He was certain that if he just kept trying, he could rebuild the boy's broken spirit. He was convinced they were making progress. It was a challenge and he reveled in it; even when it required stifling the other boy's cries with kisses. He found it harder to resent Xiang; not when they were so close to making him right again. Xiang had become oddly beautiful to him, not like a woman was beautiful. He was not womanly, but he was not a man either; Xiang was some new unearthly creature. His voice wasn't going to change; his body wasn't going to develop. He was trapped in between; he was a walking transition. Komui did everything he could to show him that was a fine thing to be.
Komui wasn't home when everything was destroyed. Father sent him into town to pick up extra herbs for his stomach. It was early in the day and he didn't feel like waking Xiang or carrying Lenalee, so he went alone. He was met by neighbors as he walked home.
"Komui!" they shouted. "A dragon has burned your house!"
He didn't believe in dragons, but fire was a very real threat. He dropped his purchases and ran the rest of the way. Already the acrid smell of smoke threaded its way through his nose and burned his lungs. No, no, no, no, no… please no!
His home was gone; a raging inferno had devoured it. Komui screamed, high and wordless. Please be alive, Mother, Father… Lenalee please! Please let them have escaped!
"Lenalee!" he cried. She had to be alright. She had to be. He would charge into the fire if he had to. Arms caught him and held him back. Someone was speaking to him, someone he didn't know. They spoke in rapid English. Komui stared at the person madly; he didn't understand a word. "My sister!" he yelled. "Please, I have to find Lenalee…"
Komui shuddered violently. The past was trying to intrude again. He couldn't think about it; not now. The man before him needed bandaging. He couldn't afford to lose focus now. The events of That Day kept trying to rush back to him. It always did when he let the fog in his mind clear. He started whistling; that helped.
Arms wrapped around him as he finished tying the last of the bandages. "I love watching you work…" a warm voice with a slight Russian accent whispered in his ear. Her hands slid downward and commanded he go upstairs with her.
"All you do is watch me work… you're a useless woman." He grinned and let the fog fill his mind fully. It was pleasant to let his thread bare sanity slip. He reached back and ran his bloody fingers through her blond hair. That would piss her off.
Petrova went rigid; he could feel the anger radiate off her in waves. Her fingers dug painfully into his skin. "Now, now… my dear Finder." She growled. "Remember why you're here…"
To find my sister… he thought instantly. He couldn't say it out loud. Early on he learned that members of the Order were kept separate from their families. A strict rule of no contact. He changed the characters that made up his family name. He was Komui Li now, not Lee. He was also Komui the Mad.
"You're here because I asked for you… my word is all that keeps you here." Petrova cooed in his ear. Her voice was poison. She was cruel. All the Exorcists he had met were cruel. He had to find Lenalee before they warped her sweetness and turned her into something like the woman behind him. "Will he live?" she asked with an elegant wave of her hand to the unconscious man on the table. Komui nodded. "Good job… I'll report it back to the science branch." His heart leaped in his chest; her hand was there, poised to crush it. "I know how badly you want to be there…" she tightened her grip, her soft chest pressing against his back; he leaned against her. It was pointless to resist her. "Your talents are wasted out here. You belong there. We'll convince them… my room now." She ordered him.
Komui laughed as he left his patient and followed her upstairs, a grin plastered to his face. His coat gained new stains as he cleaned his hands on it. He didn't have much choice. This was his trial; he just had to endure. He could find Lenalee if he could just get in. His acceptance into the Order and specifically into the science department, where the most resorces were, depended on her recommendation. She had taken responsibility for him.
As always he was swept away by her passion. She didn't care who heard them; the whole village could. Her long nails left welts on his skin. His teeth marked hers. It wasn't love. It was a battle for control. Before they could sleep, she pulled him to the floor where they both knelt at the bedside; she said her evening prayers in Russian, knowing he couldn't understand. Her intensity was only matched by her piety. Komui watched from the corner of his eye the way her long limbs folded in prayer. He was reminded of a mantis; she would eat her mate as soon as she was satisfied and cannibalize her children for good measure.
Komui snuck out as soon as she drifted off. Looking at her sleeping peacefully was painful. He had to leave or he would smother her with a pillow. He crept to the safety of the bathroom and locked the door. The bath water was extra hot as he tried to scrub the unique and intoxicating smell of Petrova off his skin. His mind cleared in the steam. What am I doing here…?
He was always a little disorientated when the fog lifted. He couldn't hold those moments of lucidity for long. Memories resurfaced, tearing and torturing his fragile soul. They forced him to pull that sweet obscuring fog around his consciousness to protect it. The fog softened the edges, made the world he had been so violently dropped into bearable. It made him laugh. There was no way this could be healthy.
Staring at his reflection in the bathroom mirror, he held on. He needed to refocus before he let the fog back in. He was confused. How did I get here? He tried to bring back the events of the last twenty-four hours. There was a ring of bruises, like a dark necklace around his throat. Petrova had tried to strangle him. He touched the sore flesh gently. When did that happen? When the memories of those beautiful hands holding him down started to surface he pushed them back. Don't think about it… this isn't important. What am I doing here? His reflection smiled back at him.
Komui looked like hell. His eyes were lined with dark circles; he didn't sleep. His short hair was mussed; he didn't brush it. He didn't care. He had become terribly thin; he didn't eat. His bones stood out sharply under his too tight skin. It made him laugh. He prodded at the puffy flesh under his eye. He looked terrible and it was hilarious.
"No!" he blurted out, gasping over his own laughter. He gripped the edge of the sink. "Remember… her!" He gasped as the protective fog rolled back suddenly and fully, leaving his mind with a painful crystal clarity. He shook in horror and his knees buckled. The sink held fast and kept him from the ground. "Everything is gone…" he whispered roughly.
The people who held him away from the smoldering rubble of his house were talking to him. Still he screamed for Lenalee. She had to be alright. He would die without her. Someone struck him and he quieted.
"Big Brother!" a voice caught and held him still. She was alive; relief washed through him. The arms that restrained him vanished and one of the strangers brought her to him. Her clothes were singed and her face was dirty, but she was alive. She wasn't hurt! Someone had rescued her and for that he was thankful. He dropped to the ground and held her. "Big Brother" she cried into his shoulder and broke his heart. "Mama… papa… mama!" little hands clutched at his shirt.
"Don't worry. Lenalee, I'm here. I'm still here." He held her like she would shatter. "I'm here… I'll keep you safe." He promised and swore for her comfort. He ignored the world around him. I'll keep you safe… they're dead. "I'm so happy you're alright… are you hurt?" Everyone is gone… everything is gone… my family… gone.
"Mama… papa…"
Komui pet her hair and rocked her. "I know… I know." Everything is burning… we're alone… just us now. I'll take care of you…
"Big Brother… scared!" she said it softly. "Don't leave me alone…" she was in shock, shaking slightly in his arms.
"Don't worry. I'm not going anywhere. I'll take care of you…" Komui would guard her with his life. "I promise I won't let you ever be alone." He didn't know how long the strangers let them sit there together. A strong breeze was blowing. The smoke from his ruined home gracefully stretched across the sky in long gray and black streamers.
The bathroom door rattled and with a sharp creak gave and bust inward. Petrova stood and stared at him like he was something distasteful. "Finder…" if she was capable of human emotions, she would have sounded worried. Her silky voice ate at Komui like acid; the smoky skies in his memory dissolved and he lost his grip on reality yet again. "My bed is cold… my scar. The scar you gave me aches…"
Komui slid to the floor. The inn's thin bath towel provided his only protection against the chill of the tile and the overpowering heat of the Exorcist. Water dripped from his hair and on to his bare shoulders; he wasn't sure if he had already bathed or if he was about to.
The woman was suddenly on the floor with him. "The scar you gave me…" she lifted the edge of her shirt, exposing pale flesh marked from too many battles. She was a mass of scars; she was beautiful. Komui recognized her garment as his shirt; she was wearing his shirt. He would smell like her tomorrow and it made him giggle. Petrova backhanded him for it. "Look at my scar… is it healed properly?"
Komui laughed harder and caught her hand; he pulled the shirt back down. "I don't have to look…" he was mildly insulted. "I know it healed fine. I made that cut." Somehow he moved and had both her wrists. He pushed her against the door and kissed her hard. "I made that cut… of course it healed perfectly." His mind may have slipped, but his abilities remained solid. He was confident in his skills. It was the only real thing he had left.
"Check it anyways." She hissed and tried to bite him. One of her long legs wrapped around him and forced him close. Petrova was much stronger than him. "Look at me Finder! You belong to me!" she kissed him and dragged her teeth over his bottom lip. Komui lurched away so violently he slammed his head into the sink behind him. He saw stars and laughed. She was going to kill him.
Komui lay tangled in the bed sheets. His head rested on Petrova's bare stomach; he had taken his shirt back when they fought on the bathroom floor and again on the bed. He kissed the scars he gave her. There was more than one. She didn't remember the others; Komui did. She wasn't conscious for those incisions. He sedated her. Each one was a point of pride for him, a testament to his skill. He saved her life. It was something he regretted every time he looked at her.
That day he was sitting on the steps of the Asian Branch office. It was cold. His feet were bare. Someone had taken pity on him and gave him something to eat. He took up as much space as he could on those stairs. He stretched out his long thin legs and lay there, forcing people to step over him to enter. He had no plans to leave.
Shouting from down the road drew his attention. Komui watched with lazy interest as a weary unit returned from battle. He could smell the blood on them. Two men carried a limp woman. Her side was drenched in gore; her head rolled limply from side to side. People rushed from the inside of the building to help haul her in and care for the other wounded. Komui was half kicked and pushed till he moved aside.
The woman's face was ashen. He could hear her breath rattle in her chest weakly as they carried her past. The people there were in an uproar, everyone rushing about like mad. They left the door wide open. Komui had laughed and walked right in, dragging his bag of possessions behind him. He went unnoticed in the commotion, just another face.
He sat by the woman on the floor. They were looking for their medical team. Komui ignored them. The woman was dying. It was perfect timing. He hummed to himself as his confident hands unbuttoned her shirt. He felt along the back of her neck. The bones there were solid and intact. Her lips were bluish. He traced her throat. It looked odd. Her windpipe was off center, pulling to one side. He smiled and dug through his bag for something sharp enough. His hand found a lovely slender carving knife. It was a present for someone important; but who, he couldn't remember. Komui spun it between his fingers for the strange sense of familiarity it held.
"Hey!" Komui ignored whoever had finally noticed him, just like he ignored the gush of hot blood over his hand as he sunk the tool home. People around him were suddenly paying attention and it peeved him. "What the Hell are you doing?!"
"Who is this guy?!"
"How did he get in?!"
"What are you doing?!"
Komui wished they would all just shut up. He tuned them out and gave his impromptu scalpel a gentle tug. There was a painful gurgling sound as air moved and her collapsed lung painfully refilled. The pressure relieved, the return of oxygen to her body brought with it a flush of color. She coughed and gasped and Komui made a little sympathetic sound and pressed on her incision to staunch the blood. Her blue eyes opened and glared at him. Everyone had hushed.
"One… two, no three. Three broken ribs…" he counted aloud in a singsong voice, happy to be recognized. He checked her eyes, now that they were open. Her pupils reacted normally to light; both were the same size. "No concussion." He announced. He turned his attention to the massive bruising on her side. She was cut in many places, but none seemed particularly life threatening. He frowned and prodded at her. One of her floating ribs had certainly left its place. The deep shade of the hue wasn't damage from the outside. His eyes went wide and the remaining haze of fog left his mind clear to think. He moved his hand and pressed gently and deep.
"BASTARD!" the woman screamed with a lurch. Her eyes widened almost comically and she vomited blood.
"Surgery now!" Komui shouted. "She's bleeding inside!" She stared at him with wide eyes. "Don't worry." He told her with a smile. "I'm not letting you die." You damn Exorcists have too much to answer for…
The medical team had arrived and with a string of obscenities the woman had berated them for their uselessness and insisted that the only person who even noticed she couldn't breathe in the first place be the one to help her now. Somehow in her poor state, she activated her Innocence and fired at her own people. Komui knew he loved her right then. It wasn't love. Only when they agreed to let Komui tend to her, did she settle and let them treat her.
Komui slapped her for being so difficult. She smiled at him through bloodied lips and called him a bastard even as they gave her the medicine to make her sleep. Komui enjoyed the chance to examine the inner workings of a living body. He probably kept her open for longer than he needed to. Her floating rib had shifted and somehow driven itself into her appendix. Useless organ. Komui removed it cleanly and set the rib back. It had scratched her intestines slightly. He cleaned it; it would heal fine. He kept his hands inside her too long. Just touching, memorizing; he didn't know when he would ever get this kind of chance again. When one of the annoying men with him made one snide comment too many, Komui put a scalpel through his hand.
He was back out on the front steps again after that. Days later, when the Exorcist Petrova woke, he was invited in on her request. He would work under her supervision, until he could be judged safe to join the science department.
Komui kissed the scar from her surgery again. His body felt warm and lethargic. My hands were inside her, right here… he grinned at the thought. It was a powerful feeling. Her fingers dragged through his hair. It would have been soothing if it weren't so possessive.
"Who is Lenalee?" Petrova asked with a sudden yank on his hair. He hissed in pain. "You say that name in your sleep… who is it?"
"No one…" Komui lied and held back the urge to throw up.
"Who is Xiang?" she asked, venom seeping into her smooth voice. "You cry that name in my arms… who is that?"
"No one." Komui said firmly. He was certain of that answer. Xiang had never existed. The thing he found half buried in the rubble of his house was not Xiang. There was no one. Komui, in his stress and loneliness had invented the other boy. That thing wasn't Xiang; Xiang was only alive in his mind. He never really existed.
For a brief moment the pleasant fog melted away and Komui saw him. Pinned, trapped; he was begging for help. Xiang's long black hair splayed around his head like a fan. He begged for Komui to save him, to finish killing him. Komui could still taste his blood on his lips. His stomach rolled and he barely made it to the bathroom in time.
"He doesn't exist… he never existed… only her. Only my sister is real. He didn't exist… I didn't do that. I couldn't have done something like that… I couldn't ever. He didn't exist. He wasn't real… I would never, ever… ever, but he never existed…" he chanted like a prayer and forced the fog to come back and take away the pain. Just like That Day, Komui screamed until he laughed.
He laughed like screaming.
