Hah! Glinwulf, thanks for picking up on that continuity slip XD I amended this now. That much for writing without beta.
Cheers, LH.

xxx

38. Cold Light of a Summer Morning

//You are unworthy.//

"I am unworthy." Nagi was on his knees on the cold greasy concrete, his hands pressed against his temples. Swaying lightly, he murmured the words that filled his brain along with the cold, the white light, the reek of human waste that filled the small room.

//You are nothing.//

"I am nothing."

//The Trinity created you. The Light gave you life.//

"I was created..."

//A servant to the Truth and a soldier of Salvation.//

"I am nothing. I am a servant. I am blessed for Salvation will come to me..."

//The proof of true humility lies in our actions. It rests in our thoughts. It clarifies our minds.//

"Please..." A whisper, barely audible, escaping Nagi with a small breath.

//You have been thinking evil thoughts.//

"I have dirtied my mind. I have been thinking evil things."

//You yielded to Pride and Hubris.//

"I thought I could walk on my own. I have insulted the Light. I am lost and begging for guidance."

//Return to The Path, one step at a time. Pray for forgiveness. Pray for humility.//

"This humble servant prays to the Honourable Light. He prays that his words might be heard. He prays that his sins might be weighed and his mind relieved of its burden. He prays that the Honourable Light might fill his mind and illuminate The Path to him once more so he may walk towards Truth and Salvation..."

//Words are feeble. Demonstrate.//

A small sob wrenched from Nagi's throat, and his small hands curled into fists as he began to tear at his hair hard enough to pull out thick strands, and then he drew his hands down, his nails scouring bleeding tracks over his pale skin. Sweat was beading on his upper lip and between his shoulderblades in spite of the cold. He was trembling, shivers chasing over his skin and making the tiny hairs stand on end. Biting down on his lip to lock in the pained gasps that filled his mouth, he was panting in harsh little puffs through his nose.

//Demonstrate...//

Slowly, Nagi unfurled his scrawny frame and laid himself out, with his stomach on the concrete floor, blood dripping from his scratched flanks and neck, his legs spread wide and his arms stretched out, palms on the ground. His nose was pressing onto the floor, his lips were moving against filthy concrete. "Honourable Light, this servant left you." His words, slurred at first and hasty, began to gain clarity and strength as he went on. "He fled your HOME. He embraced the OUTSIDE. He is nothing but filth..."

//What does he want?//

Nagi opened his mouth and drew a shallow breath that tasted of oil and dirt. Staring at the grey ground, he whispered, "He pleads for penance. He begs to be made whole again. He prays..." A small pause, and then Nagi closed his eyes and said tonelessly, "...for The Light to take his mind."

xxx

Yohji found him like that, marred with congealed blood and stiff with cold, his belly and chest, his legs and arms streaked with broken welts. He set down the plastic container with rice he carried, along with a plastic bottle with water, and shoved the container towards Nagi with his foot. "Hey." Yohji nudged Nagi's shoulder. "Quit this crap. You gotta eat."

And then something hit him in the chest. A flash of darkness, followed by blazing light exploding in his head as his head hit something hard and cold with a sickening thud. Yohji tried to blink open his eyes while the pungent taste of blood filled his mouth and turned his howl into a choked gargle, but the white room around him began to spin and darken. As if through cotton wool, he heard Aya yell something about a gun. Yohji sagged against the wall behind him and slid down, his hands coming up to his temples, touching something warm and sticky that trailed down one side of his skull and caked his hair. Just washed it, it flashed through his mind, and he wanted to laugh, then wondered why Aya was pointing a gun at him, before he realised that Aya's glare was focused on something near him.

Aya blocked the door. In fighting stance, his chin jutting forward aggressively, his eyes flaring... a spark of panic deep down, quickly covered by a layer of frost. "Yohji, move your ass," he ordered. His voice had the ring of steel, Yohji thought dazedly, like the blade he used to-

"Yohji! Move the fuck out of here. Now." Aya pursed his lips, but he neither shifted nor blinked, as if he was trying to will his target to stay still.

xxx

In the kitchen, Yohji propped one elbow on the edge of the sink whilst pressing a soaking teatowel against the side of his head. Cold water ran down his neck and between his shoulderblades, trailing shimmering rivulets on his bare back. Aya, in his orange sweater with rolled-up sleeves, set a mug of coffee on the table. "You didn't see this coming?" He sounded incredulous and tired.

"Hmph."

"Yohji." Aya sat down, unthinkingly massaging his bandaged arms.

"I didn't, okay?" Yohji turned around and stared at Aya. "I didn't even see him move. One second, he was on the floor, and I thought he'd snuffed it overnight. The next thing I know is my head cracks against the wall and I'm out for the count. He shouldn't have that kinda... strength. Hell, look at him! He's just a kid, and I'm still not buying into this whole superpower crap. Why were you snooping after me anyway?"

Aya quirked a mirthless smirk. "A kid, like Ken and Omi. I had a hunch."

Yohji pushed out his lower lip. "C'mon..."

"Okay, if you really want me to answer this - I think you are losing it. I wanted... I was..." His voice faded, and he swallowed hard.

"Wow. That's a bit rich coming from you, innit?" Yohji snorted. "Where d'you get the gun?"

Aya gathered himself. "It's Omi's. I can't use the katana until my arms are better."

Yohji leaned over to turn off the tap, and then, in the small silence that settled between them, he shuffled across to pull out Ken's chair, next to Aya's place, and sat down. "Ayan..."

"Have your coffee now." Aya met Yohji's green eyes quietly. "You'll feel better afterwards."

"Aya." Yohji covered Aya's hand with his own. Aya let him, but his gaze drifted away to the mug of tea that stood before him on the bare table. Yohji drew him closer until they sat shoulder to shoulder and Yohji could touch his lips to Aya's hair. "You need to change those dressings." He rubbed his blood-stained fingertips lightly against the wool of Aya's sweater.

Aya heaved a suppressed sigh. "Yohji, do you realise-"

"I love you."

Yohji could feel Aya jolt and then freeze. The tap was dripping into the sink, hacking the silence into small eternities. Yohji's scarred fingers dug into the folds of the sweater, gathering them over Aya's shoulder into a tight bunch that filled his fist. "Won't you say anything?" he murmured hoarsely.

Another few heartbeats before Aya cleared his throat and turned his head, his lips brushing over Yohji's stubbly jaw. "I want you to stop this. I want you to give up and concentrate on your job instead."

Yohji met his mouth in a kiss that tasted of cigarettes and tenderness. "I can't," he said, all harshness gone. "You know I can't do that."

"And I can't work like this." Aya sagged a little more into Yohji's warmth.

Yohji drew a slow, deep breath. "Well... seems we have a problem."

"Yes, we do, down in the basement." Aya drew back and shook his head. "Look, Manx is chasing after her mission report, why don't you draft something so we can try and sort this mess? We'll talk later about... things."

A small smile curved Yohji's lips as he closed his eyes. "Aye, sir. Later. Why not. How's Ken?"

Aya shrugged. "Drugged up against the pain, but it could be worse. He managed to get to the bathroom, he ate rice and miso earlier, and he had some tea. The stitches look neat enough."

"Did you-"

"I told him we'll collect Omi tonight."

Yohji glanced up, meeting Aya's pale gaze. "We?"

Aya wrapped his arms around himself. "Do you... does this trouble you?"

Yohji leaned back and reached for his coffee and lit a cigarette. "No."

xxx

Next chapter: Journey