Sakine Syndrome
Chapter Twelve

''The fashionably late arrival of Prince Charming"

One of the men (Ryu? Their names were unimportant; hell, everything about them was unimportant- the separate details about those awful, foul-smelling men blurred together in Meiko's mind until she couldn't distinguish them at all) pulled Meiko towards him, his eyes unfocused with alcohol and lust...

Meiko felt her skin crawl as his fingers pressed against her skin- his lips pressed against her ear- and he was laughing, they all were laughing; stupid men picking on a girl half their size, wasn't that clever?

Wasn't that funny?

No.

It was pathetic.

Rin's eyes were watery, misty blue that trembled with unshed tears, and even though she sniffled- trying to hide her eyes behind her arm- it was obvious she was on the verge of tears.

"It's alright, Rin," said Meiko, her voice hard- steely- even though she was smiling, slightly. "I'll let Len know just how unforgivable it is to make a girl cry."

Unforgivable.

Any man who made a girl cry was...

"Completely... unforgivable..."

"Huhhh?" asked the man, looking down at Meiko. There was a stupid grin plastered across his face. "What was that? What was it? Ahahaha..."

"I think she wants it."

"Stupid fuckin jailbait superstar- acting all aloof; but all girls are the same, right?"

"O-of course... Ahahaha..."

Laughter. More laughter. It buzzed around Meiko's head like flies; invading her ears (inside her brain), humming like static; pulsating unpleasantly.

An unpleasant sound.

Completely despicable.

Meiko wasn't sure whether or not the disgusting misogynist drivel spilling from these men's mouths- as slimy as the trash strewn across the floor, swirling at Meiko's feet (and damn it, she was getting her shoes all dirty)- was just the alcohol talking or not. People said stupid things when they were drunk, things they didn't really mean, and they often felt incredibly embarrassed about it afterwards.

"Kaiii-channn, y're not... n-not... Ahaha~"

Kaito flinched, shoulders stiffening, and he immediately- before he'd even heard what Meiko was going to say- began to gabble excuses.

"I-it wasn't me, Meiko, I-I didn't do it, I'm sorry, I-I…"

But Meiko didn't try to hit the stupid, unintelligible blue-haired man as she would have done in so many other situations.

Instead, she smiled.

"Y-y're not that bad, ya know? I'm... I'm g-glad to have you with me..."

Kaito paused.

"Wait, really?"

And then flushed- the unexpected praise turning his cheeks light pink.

"I-I'm glad to have you too, Mei-chan. B-but you wouldn't say that normally…"

"Well, maybe I should more… m-more often then. 'C-cause you're not that stupid all the time… N-not… A-and maybe I kinda do, um… Y'know, I-"

But then Meiko was hiccupping, her head falling forwards; her whole body seeming to collapse from underneath her.

"Mei-chan!"

Moving quickly, with a speed he hadn't known he possessed, Kaito caught Meiko in his arms before she could topple over into an inebriated pile of light-headed giggling boneless limbs.

"Yay, Kaito~ Hehe~"

That memory was faded; immersed in a thick fog, and so blurry Meiko could hardly remember it.

But it was still there.

People didn't always say what they meant.

And maybe, at any other time, under any other scenario- when these men (stupid boys) were not quite so drunk, not quite so wasted and not quite so lonely on Christmas eve with nobody else to share the 'happy' time with- those men weren't all that terrible. All human beings- even the most selfish, twisted of ones- had some redeeming qualities; and that was just what made humans so amazing.

But that didn't mean a thing.

It didn't mean a thing at all when they'd tried- were still trying to- assault Meiko.

If any person treated Rin in such a way (although Rin could probably take care of herself, being a not-so-closet closet psychopath who's violent nature could rival Meiko's)- or, god forbid, the sweet and innocent Miku- then Meiko would've decapitated them without batting an eyelid.

But they hadn't cornered Rin or Miku.

They'd cornered Sakine Meiko.

Meiko's eyes narrowed.

But... she wasn't that girl anymore.

She was Meiko.

Just Meiko.

And, whilst Sakine Meiko would have trembled in fear and tried to run (tried to scream), Meiko was different.

Meiko wouldn't forgive them.

These men (these pathetic wastes of flesh) could apologise- pay their penance- by lying in broken heaps on the floor, their bodies mixed among the bits of foul-smelling trash; where they belonged. And what a nice way to spend Christmas eve that would be.

"Unforgivable..." Meiko said, voice soft- but it grew it volume, as her fingers formed fists. "Absolutely unforgivable!"

There was a loud, satisfying crunch, as Meiko's fist ploughed into her captor's face.

It was Kaito who began running first. His footsteps echoed eerily about the more secluded streets, making a loud, steady thump-thump-thump pattern throughout the all-but silent air that seemed to mirror a human's heartbeat.

Kaito's hood (Rin had pulled it up before to disguise his recognisable blue hair; not that many people really recognized, or cared, about Shion Kaito anyway. Not when the Kagamines or Hatsune Miku were around to gawp at and obsesses over) was blown down by his sudden movement, his hair fluttering in the sudden chill wind.

"Hey!" Rin called after him, flailing her skinny arms, still swamped in that ridiculously over-sized coat. "Come back, Bakaito! You'll, like, trip and fall headfirst into a trash can or somethin'! Where will you be without the amazing-awesome Rin to guide you?"

"P-please be careful!" Miku squeaked, her hands clasped together at her front.

Miku didn't want Kaito to get hurt, too. If Meiko was in danger they couldn't just charge blindly in; they needed to asses the situation- and wasn't this supposed to be a family effort?

But Miku could understand Kaito's determination.

He cared about Meiko.

He loved Meiko.

And he felt guilty for what he'd done.

Horribly, crushingly guilty.

That was why Kaito had at first set out to find Meiko by himself, trying to shake Miku off him and refute her attempts to help. And, most likely, that guilt was why he'd been so quiet as Rin cut a path through the crowds of pedestrians for them with her angry glares, bared teeth and foul temper.

It was a family effort, yes, and they were all trying to find Meiko.

They were all equally worried about Meiko.

But Kaito was the one who'd driven her away.

And Kaito was the one who wanted to bring her back.

And so, despite Rin's angry protests and Miku's stuttered 'p-please be careful's, Kaito didn't stop.

He couldn't stop.

He couldn't slow down until he knew Meiko was safe.

"S-stupid fuckin' bitch!"

Meiko stood there, face impassive, as the sudden chill wind blew through her brown hair- sending it scattering. She'd styled it neatly that morning with a small smile spread across her lips (although that hadn't been her, had it? It had been the other Meiko. The younger one)- but now her hair was a complete mess. Every single strand seemed to be out of place; some parts of it sticking up, others lying flat, infused with the stench of dingy alleyways and garbage and rot and the faint, lingering scent of apple shampoo.

The man Meiko had punched recoiled from her blow, his fingers going to his nose; and Meiko was sure she'd broken cartilage (broken something, at least), and as he roared in pain.

"I-I'll... I'll get you for that, you bitch!"

He dived forwards, blinded with pain and alcohol- half-mad, like an animal. With grasping fingers and a mouth full of curses he tried to grab hold of Meiko; but she was too fast for him.

Meiko's reflexes were second-to-none, and she wasn't a withering, drunken mess with a bleeding nose. Even though she was far shorter, with a slight stature, she held the obvious advantage.

And she wasn't even afraid.

She was far too angry to be afraid.

Ducking under the boy's outstretched arms, Meiko turned, hair fluttering in the breeze-

"O-ow! Fuckfuckfuckfuck-"

-and she gave him such a kick to the groin she was sure he'd seen stars; that he'd be seeing stars for the next few weeks or so.

Nobody messed around with Meiko.

Nobody.

With another string of unintelligible curses, mixed with moans and gasps of pain (a chorus of agony that was music to Meiko's ears), her attacked slumped forwards onto the floor; blood trickling a garish trail from his nose, whilst his whole body convulsed.

The other three men (not men stupid boys) stared at Meiko with eyes so wide their eyeballs seemed in real, immediate danger of falling out of their sockets.

So stupid.

Pathetic.

Not even worth her time.

Meiko smiled- but it was a smile in name only. It wasn't cheerful; in fact, it was far from it.

Her lips almost seemed to leak acid.

"Now... Who's next?" Meiko asked, her fingers forming fists- cracking her knuckles together in the most menacing way she could manage. That was how she dealt with Kaito when he being his usual idiotic self; she glared, cracked her knuckles- and instantly Kaito's face would turn white, as though he'd fallen into a bucket of rice flour, and he'd begin to gabble unintelligibly.

It seemed to have a similar effect on those stupid boys too.

"Aww~" said Meiko, her voice filled with mock concern. Pressing one finger against her lower, lip she looked about the assembled group of boys with a small pout tugging at her lips. "Doesn't anybody else want to play with me? You seemed so enthusiastic before, too... I was looking forward to beating the shit out of you. But if you don't wanna stick around you can always try and run away."

Meiko's taunts had the desired effect.

One of the boys- wasn't his name 'Ryu'? Not that it mattered (he didn't matter; stupid scum)- twitched slightly, his brows furrowing, fingers clenching into fists.

Meiko smirked.

People like that were so predictable. You just had to press the right buttons and...

Boom!

They'd explode.

"Shit! We're not going to let some pint-sized little... fuckin' slut push us around, are we, guys? Right, Take?"

"Ahaha- course not, Ryu!"

"You're gonna be sorry you ever crossed us, you stupid slut."

Meiko could only smirk.

"Alright then. Do your worst."

Kaito could hear his heart pounding in his ears as he ran, legs propelling his body forwards as quickly as they could manage. Once, twice, he stumbled- nearly tripped- but he managed to right himself before he crashed into the ground and still he kept on going.

He had to keep going.

Stopping wasn't an option.

As Kaito ran, pressing on and on and on until his legs felt numb and his heart felt like it'd explode out of his chest in a shower of pain and a fountain of blood, his surroundings slowly became more and more tumbledown. It felt like the too-tall buildings were pressing in on him- a paranoid imagining (a delusion), but it was somewhat fitting. The windows of the buildings were boarded up- but some people had pulled those boards away (the thick, heavy pieces of wood lay, rotting, water-logged on the floor, twisted nails sticking out of them) and the glass windows behind the boards had been smashed, leaving yawning mouths in the graffiti and weather stained concrete.

The oppressive, crooked buildings seemed to blot out all sunlight; casting dark shadows against the floor that reached long- almost as if they were trying to grab Kaito and swallow him whole.

It was a daunting thought- but Kaito tried to push it from his mind.

It didn't matter.

His own safety didn't matter.

All that mattered was Meiko.

He had to apologise to her.

He had to save her.

If anything happened to her- if anything hurt that small, barely-there piece of Meiko left inside Crypton's newest model (because Miku was right; the old Meiko was still in there somewhere, and if Kaito had looked hard enough maybe he would've found it earlier; maybe he wouldn't have been so stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid; he was )- Kaito didn't know what he'd do.

There might not have been much of Meiko left…

But he had to protect her no matter what.

Guilt coursed through Kaito's veins like blood, but it ran even thicker than that. That horrible, harrowing guilt left an unpleasant taste in Kaito's mouth- but it fuelled his body onwards, faster and faster, far past its usual limitations, until he could hardly take in any air anymore.

But that didn't matter; not anymore.

He had keep running.

He had to keep going.

He couldn't stop.

If it hurt- if it felt like his lungs were on fire and his heart could hardly beat anymore- then that was good. It meant he was suffering for what he'd done to Meiko; it was part of his redemption- and maybe even the stupid, useless, clumsy Kaito could be absolved of his sins if he tried hard enough.

He wouldn't give up.

He refused to give up on Meiko.

Kaito wasn't even sure what was guiding him anymore. The pain in his head (that alien sensation of fingers prising at his skull, trying to tear it in two) had long since gone- leaving only Kaito's own fear and confusion and that desperate, burning desire to pull Meiko into his arms (even if it wasn't the Meiko he loved so dearly, as a friend, or a sister, or maybe something else he hardly dared think about even when he was dreaming) and apologise. There was nothing left to help navigate Kaito through the complex maze of tall, ugly buildings and overflowing trash cans with their horrible, choking fetor- but, somehow, without knowing how he knew, Kaito was sure he was going in the right direction.

It felt like somebody was calling his name.

Reaching out for him.

Kaito heard a sudden flurry of movement- a shout, a scream, a thump, like something falling against the floor- and his heart leapt into his throat. All at once- in a matter of seconds- he lost his footing.

Lost his concentration.

Lost his balance completely.

The floor seemed to slip out from underneath him, as though somebody had pulled it away- just like the trick where you tried to move a tablecloth out from a set table without disturbing the plates and cups and cutlery- as Kaito's limbs pin-wheeled awkwardly in the air. His mouth opened in an 'o' of surprise.

He couldn't keep upright.

If the situation really was comparable to the moving-the-tablecloth trick, then Kaito's graceless tumble as his back met the ground and his teeth bit down on his tongue was an example of a failed version of that trick.

Kaito's blue, blue eyes stared up at the sky- pain jarring through his spine- and he groaned.

It seemed as though the stars- few and far between though they were- were mocking him.

Stupid.

So stupid.

Kaito tasted blood in his mouth- he couldn't even feel the tip of his tongue (had he bitten it off?)- and, coughing weakly, Kaito tried to get back to his feet. But Kaito's shaky legs, filled with adrenalin, wouldn't quite obey him.

Somehow, using every last reserve energy he had (dipping into the very last bit of power that still ran through his fingertips) Kaito managed to roll over.

He was on his hands and knees in a dirty alleyway (the floor was peppered with garbage and shards of glass- and Kaito winced, as his palm landed on a broken bottle. When he pulled away his skin was bleeding, shimmering glass embedded deep- but not too deep- into his flesh- stupid, he was so stupid).

Kaito whole body heaved, as he spat the disgusting mix of blood and spit out of his mouth. It trickled down his chin in a garish line; and the knowledge he was spitting on the floor made him feel even sicker.

Sick right down to the stomach.

He was trembling.

It was suddenly... so cold...

H-he was meant to be saving Meiko...

H-he had to find Meiko...

But, instead, he was scrabbling around in the dirt on his hands and knees, leaking blood from cracked lips and coughing because it felt like his lungs were on fire and he couldn't stand anymore; he'd been running too fast, much too fast, and now he had hardly any energy left.

Kaito couldn't even breathe.

Still coughing (pathetic, so pathetic), wiping the strawberry jam-colored trail of blood and spit from his chin with the sleeve of his coat (it was encrusted with dirt; he managed to smear a light film of dirt and grime against his cheek instead), Kaito lay there and trembled.

But...

Kaito's eyes widened as he felt something dig into his shoe.

As shoe was pressing, ever so slightly, against his ribs.

The pressure was almost non-existent, and it didn't hurt; not really- but, even so, it prompted another string of hacking coughs from Kaito, and more blood dribbled from his lips- drip drip drip against the filthy floor- as he tried desperately to inhale (but it felt like inhaling fire; as though sharpened objects were cutting against his throat, choking him...)

And then he heard a voice.

A tired, exasperated, almost exhausted voice- and yet, despite that, they sounded...

Happy.

Just a little.

Even if they were trying to hide it.

"I-if you were going to 'save me' or something, you needn't have bothered. It took you long enough to get here... Bakaito."

a/n: yay?
This fic might be a little bit longer than I intended. Like, sixteen chapters instead of fourteen (and I assumed it would finish at the twelve mark... Ahaha... XD)
But that just means more Meiko and Kaito interaction :3
Also, this whole fic ended up being a /lot/ darker than I intended o_o;;
I… Don't know if this is a good thing or not… o_o

Then again, the concept of this fic was pretty 'dark' anyway.
But I feel bad abusing Kaito and Meiko so much ;A;

~renahhchen xoxo