LEGAL DRUG (GOHOU DRUG) FANFIC
Title: Sanguine
Written By: RinoaDestiny (Ann Koo)
CHAPTER 16
"Boy, are you feeling okay?"
Kazahaya wiped his fingers on his apron, removing the sticky smears of exploded lip gloss from his hands. This batch was a bad one, with the tubes bursting upon removal, painting him in the flavors and colors of peach, strawberry, mint, and raspberry. He smelled like fruit salad; probably tasted like one, too. Grimacing at how sparkly his green apron was, he proceeded to the sink to wash the rest of the gunk off. Behind him, Saiga-san followed, towering and dark.
The hot water felt good against his skin. "I'm fine."
"You sure?"
He turned the faucet, closing the tap and pulled a length of paper towel to dry his hands. There were sparkles in the curves of his nails. "Yeah. Why?"
"Because you misplaced this," the other man said, proffering a tiny closed tin of another brand of lip gloss towards him. "This is spearmint, not green apple. Don't let Kakei dock your pay, boy. You can't afford to right now."
"It's not as if I'm using it much."
"No grocery shopping, no extra expenses…nothing, boy?" An eyebrow rose, a dark curve above the concealing black shades. "Between the two of you, I'd expect you to eat more. Did something happen between you and Rikuo?"
"Nothing did," he said, taking the container, keeping his voice level.
"Really? Doesn't seem like it to me."
In actuality, things weren't going so well but he didn't need to tell Saiga-san that. One: Rikuo rebuffed his attempts at physical contact, communicating deep hurt at his careless remarks. Two: The nightmares were worsening by the day and Rikuo looked awful. Three: Rikuo was eating but he'd stopped speaking to him, avoiding him whenever possible. Four: He felt like shit but since his roommate shut him out, he'd never had a chance to say so. Five: It was only the third day after that surreal night. Six: That was the first time he'd seen Rikuo collapse in front of him like that. Seven: After his admission that he'd seen nothing, he wished he could take that back, which wasn't going to happen. Eight: He wasn't sure what Rikuo was going to do with Toshiya's shadow lingering over him like that.
Which left him at number nine: What was he going to do to chase away that threat?
The memory was still very real, very raw. It was as if the knifepoint was in his chest, inducing that pain and the words at his ear, asking for something that he refused to give. A memory that didn't fade, even with all the elapsed time, remembered word for word, action by action, and sensation by sensation. The agony was very real, hard to imagine but Rikuo had been sick and pale and the nighttime awakenings were no coincidence.
It left them at an uneasy standstill.
Rikuo was upstairs, awake but haunted and Kazahaya had no idea when his life would resume normalcy. Last night had been a bad one – even worse than the previous ones – and Rikuo, shuddering, had refused his comfort. Had locked himself in the bathroom, slumping against the door, and although it remained silent, Kazahaya could guess what happened. It wasn't like Rikuo to cry in front of him anymore. An internal turning, this and he had no part in it. It was like the old Rikuo again but a shade sadder and knowing the cause, gloomier.
It wasn't a thought he wished to ponder, so he returned to the present. Returned to normalcy the way he knew it. Returned to now.
"Some issues. Nothing big," he said and shrugged. It wouldn't do to outright lie, considering the other man sniffed out lies like a bloodhound and he wasn't a particularly good liar to begin with. He wondered if Rikuo knew and didn't say anything. That last glance Rikuo gave him kept him up two nights ago, for it was full of "could-be" turned into "won't-be" and the fact of it wounded deeper than any injury would. It was one of the many things preventing them from bridging the gap created. "It's not anything big."
"Boy, you're a terrible liar. Shows all over your face. Something's wrong, isn't it?"
"Nothing's wrong."
Saiga-san looked at him, shook his head and shrugged, raising massive shoulders. "If you say so, boy. I guess we have to let you and Rikuo sort it out yourselves, now, don't we? If you need any help, let us know. I'll be in the back. Talk to you later, kid."
It wasn't until the break room door shut that Kazahaya relaxed, closing his fingers over the container of lip gloss and restoring it back to its appropriate shelf. Saiga-san treated him as an adult but the man had read him – had known, somehow, that things weren't quite right – and it disturbed the psychic to know that. If Saiga-san said that his emotions were there for all to see, then Rikuo must've known. Known and didn't mention it – not even a word. Had gone back to bed, to staring at the wall, knowing and perhaps, in the end, that was what made the nightmares worse.
He didn't want another headache.
Lifting a box of disposable tissues, he brought it out to the front, where the display racks were. He'd barely started filling them when giggling snapped his head up, so that he stared at the bunch of colorfully-dressed schoolgirls stuck together like winter butterflies – Kakei-san's version of the invisible bugs, no doubt – and smiled. It was a staffer's smile – the kind employees gave to every customer in Japan by being overly polite – and it stuck on his face. One of the girls, pretty and sweet, flitted towards him, breathlessly laughing.
"Ne, you're cute."
He hated this. Smiled. Addressed her as was fitting. "What can I do for you?"
"We're looking around and didn't see any chocolates. Can you tell me where they are?"
"Sure. Third shelf, on the second row. Do you need a hand?"
A girlish giggle. "No. We'll manage."
He breathed a silent sigh of relief as the girl left, joining the clique of friends, gathering around the third shelf and whispering among themselves. Valentine's Day was coming up soon, so they were probably mentioning the names of boys. He felt a distinct pang; tried, resolutely, to ignore it. He wasn't a girl dressed in jewelry, carrying a cell phone dangling with charms, or gossiping over there in the corner about so-and-so "what's-his-face." It wasn't as if he hadn't cross-dressed – thanks to the plans of Kakei-san and Saiga-san – or engaged in chatting amounting to gossip with Nayuki, but he didn't need to talk about any boy. It wasn't necessary.
There was only one face he could think of.
Rikuo.
A clatter sounded outside, near the corner and dropping the packs of tissues onto the counter, Kazahaya skirted the front and headed for the entrance. Broke into the open air and the cold, brilliant sunshine and stopped, feeling that pang in his heart sharpen. Saw Rikuo, dressed in a thin jacket and jeans, picking himself up from where he'd fallen. Their eyes met – the dark ones glancing elsewhere – and slowly, almost painfully, the other boy stood up, not even bothering to brush the snow off. He looked exhausted, wan, and wretched; ashen, dry and red-eyed, mouth thinning into a line and from the marks in the day-old snow, Kazahaya could tell Rikuo probably swayed, tired, and lost his balance.
He moved closer, wanting to give him a hand but the psychic ignored him. It was like this the night before and the night before that, so why was he surprised? Letting him go, he followed him into the store; intrigued because this was the first time Rikuo'd come down here on his own prerogative. The last time, Saiga-san took Rikuo down here because the upstairs went through quite an upheaval. This was actually the very first time the other boy visited the place and from the expression on the other's face, it didn't seem to be a welcome back.
Quite the opposite, in fact.
"Rikuo?" he asked, apprehensive. "What's wrong?"
The other boy didn't answer him. Didn't look at him. Instead, stared in front and inhaling sharply, trudged forward. Kept walking until an uneasy halt before the shelves, where a myriad of products awaited. He saw Rikuo reach forward, take an item off the shelf, and stare at it, as if remembering. It looked like the tin of lip gloss he'd misplaced. A simple thing, really. But held in Rikuo's hand, with that distant look across the other's features, the gloss seemed to carry more import than a mere piece of merchandise.
It carried memories. Good ones.
He saw Rikuo wince, closing his fingers tight around the tin. Remembering.
Not all memories always stayed good. Sometimes, they threw the darker ones in deeper and blacker shadows. Perhaps this was so. I can't return to 'before', Rikuo told him, agonized, cloaking it in the hard edges of anger and seeing him like this drove that realization home. It hurt. Returning to this life as if nothing happened would be deceptive. Rikuo wasn't kidding with him when he spoke of how impossible it would be. But they could try, only if Rikuo was willing to try. He didn't want to see this futility – this fatalism – stamped into Rikuo's life forever.
"Rikuo?"
The boy shook his head. Gave him no reply. Pain in his eyes and memories, too. Released the tin, so that it clattered to the floor. A mirroring – the person first; the item second. Merchandise, both. He understood or so he thought he did. Stepped closer and Kazahaya wanted to reach out himself and touch him. Knew that if he did, Rikuo would shudder and flinch. The other set of memories had left deeper impressions, eaten away at Rikuo, and the result was this. He hadn't heard his voice or seen his gaze in three days.
Rikuo had placed his arm against the shelf, leaned into it, and covered his face with it. Coping and in this pharmacy where people were friendly and the atmosphere was clean and good, the next level of anguish was unpeeled. Rikuo's eyes were shut and the trembling, while subtle, was there.
He could see it.
"Rikuo…"
A squeal from shelf number three interrupting his train of thoughts and his string of would-be words. Chocolates forgotten, the schoolgirls bustled out, nearly tripping over themselves in their haste. Observing them – noticing, as if for the first time, the presence of both boys; of him and Rikuo. It came as a shock to him that they would still remember Rikuo after so long. A month and a half. Didn't the girls have anything better to do instead of ogling them?
No, not them. Not him. Rikuo.
They were ogling Rikuo.
"Hey, isn't he that boy? Your partner?"
A giggle. "Yeah, that's him. Where has he been? It's not like him to disappear like that, unless, you know…" A yelp as a short-haired girl dressed in blue whispered something.
"We haven't seen you for so long. Can't you say something to us?"
Rikuo didn't say anything; didn't move; didn't look. Kazahaya inwardly sighed. This was becoming habit; he was getting accustomed to it, even if the girls didn't. They hadn't seen Rikuo like this. The last time they saw Rikuo, he stood tall and strong, quiet and knowledgeable in the ways of a clerk. Not like this – not like this frightened, broken, and lost…thing…without direction, without reassurance, without hope. He saw the exchanged glances, the confusion and felt the disconnect. Knew it in the silence.
Knew, that, no matter what, Rikuo wasn't saying a word. Wasn't going to turn around; was going to stay there, remembering until both good and bad meshed together. Until the memories jarred against each other, painted white and black, forming grays. The other boy wanted to forget and couldn't; had come down here, looking and reflecting on a life once had and lost. Held the worth of it in his hand and as a sign of his helplessness, had dropped it.
An end to this. An end to a beginning.
Kazahaya couldn't let it end like that. Wouldn't.
"He's sick," he offered forth as truth and it wasn't entirely a lie. "It's been a rough winter." Only he and Rikuo need know the underscored emphasis of the words. Pale colors whitewashing harsher ones. An expedient lie. There were some things no one else needed to know.
"Oh, he is?"
"But you have medicine, right? Can't he take some?"
"He has. It's just been harder for him." Not an untruth, this one. Prior to everything, Rikuo was the one with the stronger constitution. No longer. "So please, leave him alone. Are you buying anything? I can ring you up."
"Oh, it's okay. I gotta get going anyway. I have cram school later on tonight."
"You do, Yuki-chan? Which one?"
"Wait! I have chocolate! I want to make sure Masayuki gets it!" It was obvious from the medium-sized cellophane wrapped package that she thought highly of this boy. "Just give me a minute to…"
It always took forever for girls to dig through their purses. "Take your time." The nice smile back on his face. Customers paid and the payment went towards his paycheck. Besides, now that he'd diverted them from Rikuo – who still hadn't budged – he could afford to relax a little. He'll have plenty of time later on to pry Rikuo away from his troubles, let alone the shelf. He could guess what Rikuo was going through. Having ten or so blushing and yammering girls couldn't be helping that.
"Ah, I'm short!"
"Haruko, you sure? I have some extra yen. How much do you need?"
"A hundred." Haruko wrinkled her nose; it was amusing. "Only two hundred, ai!"
"Are you sure you're working hard enough? You've never run out of money."
"Natsume, be quiet."
He'd kept his head lowered, watching the commotion in the front, so when he felt the first twinges of something wrong, Kazahaya snapped his head up. Did so and whitened. This sensation…this feeling…a lone girl – Did she just walk in? Was she part of the group? – was right beside Rikuo, who'd stiffened. From here, he glimpsed the taut lines of his body; the straightened plane of his shoulders. A hand on the small of his back – the girl's – wandering downward.
It was inappropriate. It wasn't right. It was…
Kazahaya slammed the cash register closed, rattling the inside and the coins. Dashed away from behind the counter, already closing the distance between him and the girl and Rikuo. Felt eddies of power swirl heavily around him, reminding him of Rikuo shouting and glass breaking. Of Green Drugstore's top levels almost demolished. That was bad. This was worse. This was…
"Leave him alone!"
A shrill scream perforated the air. Shattering of something behind him. The sound of feet and the scramble of bodies heading towards the entrance. The break room door slamming open, swinging on its hinges and Saiga lumbered out. Kakei-san still out running personal errands. When will he be back? Items rattling, skittering off the shelves – some smashing and spilling its contents – and he grabbed a hold of the girl's wrist, yanking her hand away. Glared at her.
"What are you doing?"
Had to scream. Had to above the noise and the angry beat in his chest.
She seemed to awaken, snapping out of a reverie, as if noticing for the first time that the situation was quickly careening out of control. A quaver in her voice. Good. "I…didn't mean to…he seemed lonely…"
"So you go and touch him?" Unfair – she didn't know but still…Rikuo… "Get out of here! Now!" Without a backwards glance, she was gone. A bottle skidded precariously above him; he moved out of the way just in time. Glass smashing to pieces, to shards beside him and shampoo oozing blue and viscous onto the floor. The tin of lip gloss, discarded, lying next to Rikuo's shoes.
He raised his head.
Rikuo hadn't moved. Was rigid; shaking. His arm trembled. His fist was clenched tight. Oh gods, no. "Rikuo?" Didn't touch him; didn't dare to, after how that nameless girl had done so. Rikuo was on the verge of breaking, of snapping, and around him, things continued to fall. To smash and shatter; to be ruined and destroyed. In open daylight. Psychic signatures. Two organizations. Tsukiko. Toshiya. This had to stop. Had to stop now.
"Rikuo, please!"
It was as if something brittle snapped. Before he was aware, Rikuo had ripped away from the shelf, his face a study of horror and started for the entrance. He was fast – faster than before – and although the boy was ill and weak, Rikuo's strides quickened and lengthened until the boy was in a full run. Dashed straight past Saiga-san, who stopped halfway in slamming the roller door down; without a pause, Rikuo slipped through, out of their grasp.
"Oi, boy! Stop!"
"Saiga-san?" The open whiteness and the empty quietness of the outside world. Rikuo… "Please, let me go find him."
The older man's expression was grim. "Hurry! Watch your back!"
He was out.
Kazahaya ran, using every muscle in his body to hasten his speed. Rikuo…Rikuo…oh why? Why now? Why during the day? Why when people were around – and they were glancing at him as he tore past, skidding in the snow – and leaving yet another signature of his presence? At Green Drugstore, nonetheless. An open beacon. Why? Why did that girl have to touch Rikuo like that? Why did she have to…cause all of this? Tears in his eyes and frustration and worry pounding and aching in his chest and the people blurred beside him as he raced by.
He couldn't call Rikuo's name. Can't. Didn't want to leave an evident trail.
Toshiya. His men. The flinches, the shudders, the aversion to touch. To intimacy. Oh gods, why, oh why oh why?
Where could Rikuo run off to, panicked and terrified like that? The other psychic's face had taken them both back to the memories. To the room and the four walls and suddenly, it became clear why Rikuo ran before the roller door shut him in and things were a mess and…. Kazahaya picked up his pace, passed a high concrete wall and found his steps leading him in a familiar direction. Found trampled snow, flung wildly and large footprints turning into holes and he followed them, knowing where Rikuo disappeared off to. The closest place – a place to hide; a place where double truths and wishes were revealed – and once a special cat led them, taking them to a place full of childlike wonder.
The park.
This time, going the longer route, he understood why it took Rikuo so long to catch up with him. He'd conveniently taken some shortcuts before, scaling the wall and climbing under brush and shrub. He'd no such luck this time and the footprints, sloppy and angled – even resulting in a sprawl – led him without trouble towards his destination. Towards Rikuo's destination. His heart clenched and he remembered the tenseness of Rikuo's fist.
Please don't let him break. Please don't.
The silence was eerie. It was afternoon, the park was remote and vacant, and the sun shone overhead. A cold light and a cold wind. His steps stilled; Kazahaya stopped. Allowed himself to pause, to gather his thoughts and his condensing breath. Had to because if he didn't, he'd weep. He followed the trail left unthinkingly for him, trudging through white and without saying a word, came up behind Rikuo, whose fingers were locked around the large metal climbing play piece. Snow was caked over his jeans and his jacket and his bent posture was so broken…shattered.
"Rikuo," he said, soft and gentle. Heat pricking his eyes. "Please."
The other youth – his friend, his co-worker, his partner – shuddered hard, grip fastening firmer onto the icy steel bars. Rikuo hadn't slept for hours, was exhausted…was holding on, as if afraid of letting go. Afraid to do anything. "Rikuo…"
"Do you know what they did to me?"
First words in three days. A voice scratchy from disuse; honed by pain. His heart jolted, pieces falling in place and when he spoke, Kazahaya heard himself quaver. "What…what did they do to you?"
"They…" The trembling worsened. "They held me down…ripped my shirt off. I tried to fight…they held me and…" Rikuo's knuckles were angular, sharp and jutting blue-white. "…it hurt so badly and when she touched me, I thought…I thought…"
"Rikuo…"
"I thought it was happening all over again…like they were there. I couldn't…I can't…"
"Rikuo…how many?"
"Eight." The words were bleak. Gray. "They…they told me…afterwards…" A wince, anguished and Rikuo's head dipped, leaning against the cold bars. His skin was white. "It took two hours…and they…he…he wasn't done, yet. I…they left me bleeding and it wasn't over…I couldn't…"
"Rikuo." Kazahaya trudged nearer, careful not to broadside him. "It…it's not your fault."
"I couldn't do anything about it. It…it was the first time."
"Rikuo?" Uncomprehending or was it that he didn't want to understand because his stomach roiled when he thought about it? "What…?"
"It was the first time they raped me."
Shock. Silence. Rikuo's eyes closed; cheekbone gaunt against the cold metal. The fact of it settling, soul-deep – jarred his foundations and his stability. "When…when did that happen?"
"Three days after the first." The first assault. The first of everything. Oh gods, Rikuo…. "I panicked…lost control." Acid in the words, self-deprecating. "Broke certain things…not the door…they broke me…and I..." A wracking shudder, reaching deep. "I broke."
"Rikuo..."
"And she...she was..." Fingers sliding down the weatherworn surface. "...lost to me. I couldn't help her...she's gone."
"Who?" He knew. Was afraid. "Who, Rikuo?"
The fingers completing their descent, falling away at the bracketed metal joint. Rikuo leaned into the structure, as if weary and losing balance. Losing everything. A weight, pressing hard. No longer rigid but the wasted hours were catching up and Kazahaya couldn't help but notice the swaying of his body. Saw that the other hand held tight, recovering the slack. Saw that his eyes were still shut and that Rikuo was very ill.
The boy's mouth shaped the word.
"Tsukiko."
Fear, real and cold, seized his gut. Kazahaya braved another step, until he could see the frozen tears in Rikuo's lashes. He was extremely close – had to be careful. Rikuo couldn't see him but if he reached out, he could touch him. He wanted to. Instead, gazing upward, he fixed the memory of that beloved face – pale and soul-sick – and anchored it into his mind. Remembered it, because it was important.
Because no one else would.
"Rikuo...I'm sorry."
Quiet in the empty park, except for the both of them and Rikuo didn't answer him. For a moment, at least, the absence of sound lingered. He let that moment stay. Had to because it was Rikuo's. He couldn't infringe on that.
Didn't want to.
"I...I thought...I thought I couldn't break anymore and..."
"Rikuo," and this time, he did touch him, laying his smaller hand on top of his. Felt the immediate recoil, the terrified flinching, and snapped his hand back so that his elbow hovered in midair. Stared at his friend, into his dilated eyes, and bits and pieces of his heart ground itself to dust, smashing emotions as readily as the objects in the store crashed and broke.
Rikuo...
"Kazahaya...I can't." A wince. "It's too hard."
"Rikuo?"
"I...I can't help you in the store." A laugh that hurt. "I don't belong there anymore. It's...I've broken too much, Kazahaya."
"You don't have to come back right away. I can do it by myself for some time."
"I don't think I can. I remembered, being there and...pretend I'm not there. Forget I was ever there before...with you...helping you out."
"Rikuo!"
"I broke too much," Rikuo said quietly, the impact of his words striking Kazahaya harder than if they'd been screamed or shouted at him. "I thought I broke as far as I could go. I...I was wrong."
Tears ran down his face, cooling in the knife-like wind. "You're letting Toshiya win, then. Him and his men...you're letting them win. You're letting them beat you. You're letting them, Rikuo!"
"It wasn't my choice." Rikuo's tortured gaze tormented him. "I didn't choose to break...I just...did. I...Tsukiko...I went in there...to save her." The other hand, covered with scars, loosening on the metal supports of the innocuous structure. Sliding downward. "I couldn't even do that. What good am I?"
Kazahaya had no response to that.
"You see – nothing much."
"That's not true. You're still Rikuo. You're still the one who rescued me."
"That was before." Nothing but pain in those features, welling in the dark dark green of those tear-filled eyes. "That was before I made my mistake. Before they beat me and raped me. Before they killed her. Look at me, Kazahaya. Do you think I can save you now, after what happened to her?"
"It can't be your fault. None of it is. Rikuo – it's not a mistake. You did what you thought was right. You didn't kill her."
"If I didn't go, she wouldn't have..."
"If you didn't go, she'll still be there and I'll be afraid to ask you questions. You'll still be thinking about her. You didn't do anything wrong."
"I didn't do anything right." Sorrow swept over Kazahaya upon hearing the self-imposed judgment. At how tired Rikuo was and how the conviction – unfair, all of it – must've torn at him for days. Rikuo had had too much time alone to think; he'd given him that time – those hours – and the pitiful sight before him fell to his knees, fingers finally slipping free. Scrambling down, he held Rikuo so that he wouldn't pitch face-first into the snow. Rikuo jolted in his arms, shaking, already showing the first signs of fear.
"It's okay, Rikuo." He wasn't Kakei-san or Saiga-san. He was Kazahaya. "I won't hurt you. No one's going to hurt you. It's okay."
"It doesn't go away."
"I'll be here. You know that. Rikuo, I'm sorry." A confession needed. "I didn't know it was so bad. I didn't know that you were fighting back all that time. I'm sorry."
"You did see something."
"Yes." He swallowed the tears aching in his throat. "I did."
"Kazahaya?"
"Yeah?"
"I want to sleep. Please...wake me up."
"Rikuo?" The boy's head pillowed against his shoulder. "Can you raise your shields?"
"What for?"
"I don't want to hurt you anymore. If you don't want me to see into your memories, I'll be okay with that. I...you've been hurt enough."
Silence.
"Rikuo?"
"Thank you, Kazahaya."
"Don't fall asleep, yet. I can't carry you back. Can you still walk?"
The soft sound of trodden snow. The older psychic turned, glimpsing the taller and broader figure of Saiga and the slighter one of Kakei approaching. Kazahaya swallowed. They'd probably followed them, only to stay back out of sight and out of mind when chancing upon his and Rikuo's conversation. Their moment together in the park. He glanced down. With or without his suggestion, Rikuo had fallen asleep. He looked peaceful.
"It's okay, kid. I'll carry him."
"I found out what happened, Kudou-kun. Are you all right?"
He smiled tenderly, finding it difficult to relinquish Rikuo over to Saiga-san. "I'm fine. Rikuo...I think he'll be all right, too, Kakei-san. It's just...it's been a tough week for him."
"He looks it." A sigh. "Come on, Kudou-kun. Let's go home. Saiga?"
"The boy's lightweight."
"I'll cover our tracks from here. Kudou-kun, go home and sleep. You both need rest."
Now that he thought about it, he did. "Did you hear anything?"
"No. We'll talk about it some other time, if you're willing to divulge the information. You reacted well, Kudou-kun. You deserve the rest. Take it."
"Yeah, boy. Let's go and put him back to bed. He'll be okay, you think?"
"I think he will, Saiga-san." He knew so. "I think he will."