LEGAL DRUG (GOHOU DRUG) FANFIC

Title: Sanguine

Written By: RinoaDestiny (Ann Koo)

Author's Comment: Oh my God, this was hard to write! Must've 'murdered my darlings' three times over before I finally got it right. Also notice that it's short – had to be this time in order for this chapter to work. Thank you to all my readers and reviewers for sticking with me thus far! Thank you very much :)

CHAPTER 14

"Rikuo, this is insane." Snow swirled around them, stinging his cheek; the wind skirled high and fierce, keening; visibility was low and knives of ice sliced into him, chilling his blood. Shivering even with his down jacket on – which made him feel like a bloated winter chicken – Kazahaya wondered how he ever got convinced to go on this mad excursion. Like it or not, it was Rikuo's idea. For some addled reason, the other youth wanted to go outside into the teeth of a ferocious snowstorm. On the rooftop, nonetheless; scarily enough, they've already had a few close calls. The steps were slick with ice, slippery with layered snowflakes, and more than once, they've had to grab onto the railing to avoid tumbling down the stairs. With Rikuo's broken arm, it was even more of a hazard.

"I know."

Shooting the psychic a pointed glance, Kazahaya turned back to stare at the incoming blurs of white. Cursing as a snowflake jabbed his eye with icy precision, he rubbed furiously at it. This was why he preferred staying indoors during a goddamn snowstorm. What had possessed Rikuo to suggest idly strolling onto the roof – in freezing weather, too – when they could've been inside, eating and drinking something hot? It wasn't as if he didn't warn him about pneumonia, slipping and falling, breaking bones, or tumbling down the stairs.

"If you know, then why are we here?"

Rikuo turned to face him, features starkly framed by dark hair, sharp cheekbones, and the snow flying around them. His eyes were lucid, startlingly calm, and clear like glass. Although the weather tossed white nily-wily, causing havoc until his head spun, Kazahaya saw how it transformed Rikuo. Surrounded by swirls that danced around him, the taller male appeared serene, clothed in black that covered all of his frailty; and there, in the storm, he was strong. When Rikuo wrapped his unbroken fingers around the railing and looked down briefly, Kazahaya realized that softness and vulnerability were also there.

He simply hadn't seen them.

"Kazahaya," the other male said, glancing back at him. "I had to get out."

"Why?"

"I don't like the walls. Not all the time. Not since…"

He didn't need Rikuo to finish that sentence. He understood. Although Green Drugstore's apartment had windows to let in the air, to welcome the light, to frame the night – it still had walls. Rikuo had seen so many walls during his captivity. Didn't Kazahaya understand that? Of course he did. He saw steel walls in the memories. He saw the same gray walls in the photographs where acts that shouldn't have happened occurred. He saw human walls in the same images – walls that didn't break until a man was done so that another could partake in the spoils. He saw nothing but physical walls and knew that inside of Rikuo, emotional and mental walls also existed.

This, he understood.

"You don't need to tell me, Rikuo. I know."

"I couldn't tell what time it was." The words began to flow; became lost in the crying wind. "I couldn't tell whether it was day or night." Ice-blue fingers clenched, tightening, and Rikuo continued speaking next to him, seemingly impervious to the chill. "I started to forget things there. I only knew what was going to happen was always the same. That never changed."

"Didn't Eichiro tell you what time it was?"

"No. I never asked him to. It seemed more…" Pause. "It was more bearable, not knowing."

"Oh. What were you forgetting?"

A blink of an eye, covering transparent green, and Rikuo didn't look at him. Instead, set his face into the maw of the storm. "Names. Faces. Where I lived. Who I was." A bitter laugh answered the wind, which cried back, cascading down a fresh wave of snow. "I forgot all those and remembered others."

His heart ached. "Remembered what, Rikuo?"

Rikuo shuffled and the fairer psychic saw his shoulders hunch inward. "Their names. Their faces. Their words. Their touch." At that, Kazahaya shivered, noticing how the younger man violently shuddered. "They never let me forget it. Who I became. What I was to them. The only thing I was good for. Even now…" Rikuo's voice broke. "Even now, I can't forget."

Somewhere in the distance, something tinkled, falling into endless silence. Below them, on the third floor was a warm apartment full of light, full of love but also full of walls. He remembered Christmas evening for both of them: He, unwilling to die and wanting to live even though people ignored him; Rikuo, dying and unable to live, isolated and ultimately ignored. If it wasn't for Rikuo, he wouldn't be here right now, staring at him; momentarily, forgetting the snowstorm. If it wasn't for Kakei-san, Rikuo wouldn't be here at this moment, staring into the storm, hurting and remembering the source of that ache. They were only separated by a year in both incidents and for both, snow was prevalent.

Speaking of which…

"Rikuo, why exactly are we out here? Is it because of the snow?"

"It's the first thing I saw."

That answered a lot. He left it at that and removed his glove. Rikuo's fingers were frozen, burned to the quick from the abrasive chill and they twitched slightly as his hand made contact. "It's okay, Rikuo." Even now, with all that lay between them, Rikuo startled; Kazahaya closed his fingers around the other's, shielding them from the elements. Everything was white – specks and specks of it in every direction – except Rikuo, who was a beacon of black and he, plumped out in red with his face flushed the same color.

He swore he had a runny nose.

"Your fingers are getting cold, Kazahaya."

"It's okay. Yours already are, Rikuo. Don't you feel them?"

The other psychic nodded, never looking at him. "It doesn't matter. I'm used to it."

Kazahaya bit his lip, refusing to cry. Rikuo wasn't saying much but he understood every nuance in his replies; however short they were. He wondered how long they were going to stay here, seeing what couldn't be seen, letting the storm render them insignificant, and if both of them were going to have fevers the next day. Lying cooped up in bed with medicine, cough drops, and Saiga-san's homemade soup for a week wasn't his way of enjoying the winter. Looking at Rikuo, though, he decided that if both of them got sick, it wouldn't be too bad.

They'll just have to suffer together, that's all.

"You were gone for a long time, Rikuo."

"I know." The younger man grimaced. "It felt like that. Don't tell me how long, Kazahaya. I don't want to know."

Let him be ignorant on this one, his mind told him, and Kazahaya reluctantly agreed. After all, five weeks was a long time. How was he going to explain to Rikuo that gap of time without re-opening old wounds? The only thing Rikuo was aware of at the time was snow after his grueling captivity; how and why would he tell him that Christmas was the day they found him – that he'd been gone since the last week or so in November? The irony of the situation was cruel and he didn't want Rikuo to compare and contrast their holiday trials, only to see that his was so much worse. That was something he could never impose on him.

"The storm's picking up," he heard Rikuo say matter-of-factly, neck craning upwards as if to challenge the thick of it. White blanketed around their boots, nestled on their scarves, dotted their intertwined hands, and swiped harshly against their faces. Green eyes blinked, batting away flakes the size of his fingernails, only to settle on him. Rikuo's face was white, cheeks flushed red with cold, and his chapped lips were the faintest color of crimson. For once, he couldn't read the expression displayed across those features.

He didn't need to.

"Thank you. I…I needed to be out here. I guess we can go back now."

In reply, he sneezed.

"Kakei-san's gonna kill me if we get sick, Rikuo. You're barely well and…" There was no reason, at all, to mention to Rikuo how he fell into the pond, caught a cold, and had his boss and Saiga-san laugh at him. Not to mention that it later linked with Tsukiko during the movie. Not to mention that it still embarrassed him to this day at how gullible he was in taking those side jobs. He was lucky, thanks to Rikuo that he didn't drown.

What he did get was a bellyful of invisible fireflies, though.

He sneezed again.

"You're going to get sick, Kazahaya."

It took all his willpower not to glare at his roommate. "It was your idea."

"I know. I think we better start heading back."

Kazahaya didn't protest as Rikuo removed his hand from beneath his, shoving it deeply into one of several pockets. Uncurling his from the railing – hopefully not frostbitten – he slid it into one of his insulated gloves and stamping his feet against the frigid wind, started to move in the direction of the stairs. If they managed to make it back down without slipping and possibly breaking a bone or two – in his case, maybe three – then this mad trip was worth it. Still, he was going to regret the fever that inevitably was going to come.

Behind him, Rikuo coughed.

"Oh goddammit, not you, too!"

His roommate's voice was hoarse. "I guess we'll deal with it later."

Right. After they're done dealing with the icy stairs, the possibility of tripping and breaking their necks, the close calls with Rikuo's hampered mobility, and the fact that the storm wailed over them, hurling white straight into their faces. He could barely see; thank goodness that Rikuo hovered close to him, black against his red. He had no idea how in the world he was going to explain this to a fuming Kakei-san. He only hoped that Saiga-san would mitigate some of that outrage.

It would help, too, he mused grumpily, if Rikuo explained his part.

Another cough. He sneezed right after that.

"I told you we're gonna get pneumonia!"

"Kazahaya, I think we're at the stairs."

Rolling his eyes at the absurdity of the whole event, he clung onto Rikuo's uninjured arm – feeling the tremor that ran through Rikuo when he did – and growling under his breath, started the arduous trek down. "Remind me never to do this again in under zero degree weather!"

"Kazahaya, your eyes are getting red."

"Rikuo, shut up."

"You nearly slipped. I guess you're right."

"Kakei-san's gonna kill me!" Pause. "Rikuo, your voice…"

His roommate tilted his head towards the right where their door was. Almost there. If only they could make this last step without doing something stupid…

Kazahaya slipped, wobbled, and if it wasn't for Rikuo anchoring him where he stood, he would've met the icy metal surface with a resounding smack. He groaned. As much as he liked talking to Rikuo up there, understanding more and seeing how Rikuo melded with the snow, this wasn't fun. Not at all. Gritting his teeth, he tugged on Rikuo's arm. "Come on, Rikuo. Almost home."

"Who's going to kill you again?"

"My boss."

Pause. Silence and he could almost hear the gears chugging along in the black, snow-covered figure next to him. "Before he does that, can we get some cough drops? My throat hurts."

He was tired. Cold. Hungry. His nose was dripping.

Wonderful.

"Rikuo?"

"Kazahaya?" They made it to the door and he nearly shoved Rikuo through. He tripped in himself, a pile of snow, a pair of boots, and heaps and heaps of down-stuffed folds. Snatching the hat off his head, he tossed it aside. Then, he sneezed and this time, hard.

"Goddammit."

"Kazahaya, are you okay?"

Another sneeze that ripped his lungs out and he braced himself against the wall so that the next one wouldn't topple him. Why did it have to be him? Then, Rikuo coughed and the older psychic wanted nothing more than to push him into bed. Two sick boys for a conversation outside in a forecasted snowstorm – great exchange. He'll remind Rikuo of that the next time he wanted to commune with him and with nature, walls or no walls.

He was getting the chills. Just perfect.

"Rikuo?"

"What?" Shaking his head, Kazahaya stumbled over to the coughing boy and took his arm. The unmistakable flinch was still there. After all of that. Walls and memories, indeed. Damn that Toshiya.

"Shut up and let's get some rest."