LEGAL DRUG (GOHOU DRUG) FANFIC

Title: Sanguine

Written By: RinoaDestiny (Ann Koo)

CHAPTER 17

Shadow-thin and silent, Rikuo flinched when he touched him but said nothing. The police had been here, questioning and because the reports circulated around the fleeing young man, Kazahaya witnessed the incredible scrutiny Rikuo underwent. In the end, no blame was assigned for the wreckage downstairs but the encounter left both of them shaken. From what he understood, the girls had been frightened by the disturbance and some of their neighbors believed an earthquake underway. The fact that the supposed epicenter took place right in their drugstore lent cause for suspicion; therefore, bringing in the authorities.

Behind them, their forgotten plates of eggs and toast sat, rubbery and stale. They had no appetite left after what had occurred and beside him, Rikuo inclined his head, closing his eyes. "They'll make a report. It'll circulate...someone will hear about it. Someone will know." The boy's voice was soft and controlled; monotone and dull. "They'll find me. I know they will."

"How can you be so sure?"

"One of them...he's like us. He knew, Kazahaya. He knew what I was."

"Then why? Why didn't he –"

"And blow his own cover...reveal what he is?" Rikuo leaned into him, head tilting against his shirt, fatigued. "What good will that do him? He can't arrest me. But he knows and that's what I'm afraid of."

"But aren't police reports confidential?"

"Reports can be bought. People can be bribed. It's not that simple." From where he stood, Kazahaya could see the seam of Rikuo's mouth tighten. "He'll find me and..." He didn't need to hear the end of the sentence to know what Rikuo meant; the truth of it was apparent – spelled out in the scars and the heavy lines of exhaustion anchoring the boy to the chair. What did startle him was the sudden change in subject, shifting from generalization to Toshiya.

"He won't find you. I won't let him."

"Tell me, Kazahaya," Rikuo said, eyes open and clear, meeting his gaze. "That night, when you found me...how long did it take for you to get there?"

"I...I don't know. Kakei-san just told me that we needed to get somewhere fast. I didn't pay attention to the time –"

"It takes an hour. On foot. By bus or train, less."

"They don't live far." The fact chilled him. "And you've released two signatures so far. Rikuo..."

"And you expect him not to find me? With his people...with his men?" Beneath his hand, he felt Rikuo shiver. It was brief but strong and Rikuo quickly jerked away, snapping about to face him. "How can I be expected to 'start all over' again when he's still out there? When I know they're capable of killing the both of them and..." He dared not breathe; Rikuo did, sharply, staring at him with eyes lost in the shallow depths of his face. "Kazahaya, promise me something."

"What? Why?"

The other boy shook his head, scattering strands of hair. His expression was indecipherable. "When they come for me...no, listen to me," for Kazahaya opened his mouth, ready to protest, "you have to run. You and Saiga and Kakei...you can't let them get to you. It doesn't matter what happens to me..."

"Rikuo, you can't!"

"Promise me, Kazahaya! Promise me you'll run. I've already...I've already lost her and..."

There was no subtlety in that. "You're afraid to lose me. After her."

"You'll lose more. I can't let that happen."

"Rikuo, am I..." Another shape taking form; yet another facet uncovered and it glimmered cold and hard, brilliant but fatal. "...Am I involved in this? With you? What are you protecting me from?"

"Just promise me, Kazahaya. It's the only thing I can do –"

"And Saiga-san and Kakei-san. You remember them."

"Kazahaya," and the desperate grasp of Rikuo's voice caught at him, "will you?"

There wasn't anything he could say. Instead, because he needed to sit down, the older boy pulled his chair closer. Rikuo had fully turned around, hands gripping the sides of his chair until the muscles twitched and Kazahaya needed to think. Badly. It wasn't like Rikuo to sacrifice himself like this. Of course, in the past, Rikuo had saved him from drowning a poor man's death but that was because Rikuo was dependable. Rikuo could swim, unlike him and wouldn't send both of them sinking to a cold and quiet death. This was different. This was...suicide.

The order of things, of themselves in particular, had changed. If Rikuo protected him now, it meant a death. And the scary aspect of it was that Rikuo already knew the price and was willing to pay it. A slow death – no water, no unconsciousness, no mercy granted – and all so that he, Kazahaya Kudou, could escape. Without looking back, without extending a hand to help because the other boy asked it of him. Promise me, Kazahaya!

Could he promise that, knowing the cost?

"Kazahaya," and it was as if Rikuo read his mind, "I've already decided."

In other words, it was out of his hands. That and something else.

"It's not the only choice you can make, Rikuo."

"It's the only one left to me." A surrender. A loss declared. "Will you?"

"Do I have a choice?"

A faint smile, fractured. "I meant what I said about protecting you. You can only run. I...I can only do my best, which isn't much. They'll kill me before the end." A wound bleeding into the words that followed, dark and aware. "If not worse."

Kazahaya winced. "That doesn't leave me with much."

"You have more than I do."

"So do you, Rikuo. Start over again."

"With what?"

"What you normally do, I guess." A routine. Something simple. "You used to read the paper –"

"I can't. Not..." The sound of plastic scraping against concrete. Even if he hadn't been looking in Rikuo's direction, he would've known by the sound. Remaining seated, watching as Rikuo paced, hands jammed into oversized pockets, Kazahaya felt the silence solidify into a shield around his roommate. Had the sensation that a revelation was about to break, scattering upon them like the torn shreds of pictures. Of pain splintering like that of vicious rain. Something. "They never told me...after they killed her...I don't want to..."

"Rikuo, what is it?"

A shrug, so nonchalant that it betrayed. "It's better if you don't know, Kazahaya."

Perhaps Rikuo was right. Maybe this line of questioning, with its reply of cryptic and unfinished phrases, was beyond his understanding. And maybe, just maybe...he didn't want to know. Let it stay with Rikuo – whatever it was – if that was the case. If that was what Rikuo wanted. From his vantage point, seeing only the upright back of the other psychic – his partner, his family away from family – the fact was evident.

Brutal and hard to take, like poison to the throat, if one thought hard enough about it. "You're afraid to start over. Because she's dead. Because –"

"Because there are no choices for me."

"Rikuo..."

"Will you, Kazahaya?" Calm, quiet, composed and still. So like and unlike Rikuo. "Will you promise me what I've asked?"

There was no recourse for his pain; most certainly, he couldn't give it to Rikuo, who'd already suffered plenty and had it in abundance. To give consent, to set his word upon this promise – not like the one he'd sworn before and which was met with ironclad resistance – only guaranteed one thing: Rikuo would die. Painfully. Brutally. To consign Rikuo to this...no. I've already decided. No matter what he said or did, Rikuo would follow through. It's the only one left to me.

Which left him. Will you?

He uncurled himself from his chair, moving as if through the sluggish flow of past and present, of memories and uncertain futures, of nightmares and blacker days and found himself beside Rikuo. Their conversation had shaped things, changed moods and empathy cut both ways, affecting him psychically and emotionally. He touched Rikuo on the arm; felt muscle jump and constrict but Rikuo didn't say anything. The look he received, though, undermined him with pity. It made him want to give Rikuo a hug.

"Kazahaya?"

"You had a nightmare last night, didn't you?"

"You knew?" A statement in the guise of a question. No answers were needed.

"The police...they shouldn't have come."

"It's not like they had a choice. Look at what I did."

"Rikuo?"

"Kazahaya?"

"Your promise. I'll...I'll keep it. But..."

Sorrow and resignation, tangible and keen, haunted that single gaze and remembrances of a better time flitted across the other's face. It was similar to watching a mirror break or a stone sinking into water, leaving ripples behind. Rikuo, he realized, had readied and braced himself, expecting nothing less but failure and disappointment. "It's okay."

"Rikuo?"

"Yes?"

"I'm involved in this, right?"

"Don't ask that of me, Kazahaya." Rikuo's voice was brusque. "Don't."

He didn't.